- 12.
Lucas was playing soccer in the yard with a
nanny. I hadn’t seen him in five years, despite
calling constantly. The nanny always claimed
he was in class and hung up. David told me
not to bother him, to let him focus on his
studies.
“Lucas!” I called out.
<
He stopped mid–kick and ran towards me –
to hit me. “Go away! I don’t want you! Amelia
said you’re a homewrecker!”
I froze, stunned.
David pulled him back. “Lucas! This is your
mother! Apologize!”
“No! I won’t!” He ran off.
“What does that mean?” I fought back tears,
looking at David.
He avoided my gaze. “To get Lucas’s birth
certificate registered, I had to tell Amelia he
was adopted. She’s been taking care of him.”
He’d told me he’d tell his family Lucas was
<
adopted so he could get his birth certificate.
His “family” was Amelia. That’s why he sent
Lucas away, why he wouldn’t let me contact
him. Amelia had been raising him. And now,
the son I carried for nine months didn’t
recognize me. It felt like my skin was being
ripped off, the pain unbearable.
