was mostly mine. I am just not very good at romantic associations. I would prefer not to get into the details, but to make a long story short, I didn’t realize that I was really bad at affairs of the heart until recently. Isn’t that silly? I’m old now. I think deep down I knew it, but I never admitted it to myself. I know it was definitely me, though. I have problems that have destroyed my relationships. I have been in love with two women in my life. Sandra was one of them. The way I would self-destruct my love life is textbook. I focused on my work, which was what I was mostly good at. I loved Sandra, despite our failures. She and I broke up several times but always got back together. Then, one time, after a few weeks of not speaking, certain it was finally over between us, she came to me announcing her pregnancy.
Imagine my surprise and skepticism. She knew I had had a vasectomy. At first, I didn’t believe the child to be mine. I put her through quite a lot in fact, doubting her, and at one point refused to speak to her. I was certain she was trying to pin a baby on me that wasn’t mine and worst of all, I was actually heartbroken believing she’d cheated on me during our relationship. Once my son was born, however, it was more than obvious that he was in fact mine. I have never questioned the legitimacy of my child since then. I want to make that perfectly clear.
When I went to the hospital, late at night, Sandra glowed like an angel. She lay in the hospital bed and I asked her if I could see him. My son, Aries. He was in the room with her, in a tiny bassinette. I studied him, counted his fingers and toes. There was an extra finger that had been removed right after he was born. The little baby’s hand was bandaged. I had had the same thing when I was born. So I felt a mixture of surprise, fear, and joy. When I looked into his big light bronze eyes, I felt things that scared me to death. Old memories resurfaced, and anger, too. It was then that I realized I should leave Sandra and my son alone, forever.
That was it. Lauren coughed, clearing her throat, then handed the letter back to Aries. Slowly, he folded the piece of paper back up, then slipped it into his pocket. They stood there, mirroring each other’s stance. Arms crossed, drowning in confusion and more unanswered questions.
“You know what, Aries? This letter doesn’t feel like it started at the beginning. I’m sure there’s more I hope we’ll find, which will fill in some of the gaps.” She reached for him and stroked his shoulder. Aries was cold to the touch… so cold. His eyes were darker than usual. His frame was stiff, unyielding.
“You see how he writes?”
“What do you mean?”
“He writes like he’s some British aristocrat or some shit.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Who the fuck talks like that in real life?”
“Well, honestly, he was kinda formal in person, but he also sounded… what is the right word? Warmer. He had a very dignified way about him, you know? But I can see what you’re saying.”
“Warmer in person huh? He thinks he’s better than everyone, Lauren, even my mother. She was good enough to sleep with though! What a fuckin’ waste of air. He’s big-headed and stuck up even in his damn letters. He couldn’t even write a note that didn’t sound removed, totally out of the loop. There’s no apology, no caring, no, ‘Oops! Sorry I shitted on you.’ There’s nothing. I was told this was supposed to be a love letter. I can’t tell. Where’s the love at? He is insulting me and my mama from his casket! It’s a bunch of bullshit, is what it is.”
“Aries, I think—”
“I’d like to take him out of his coffin right now, this very second, and stuff this fuckin’ letter down his throat. His corpse can kiss my ass! Rot in hell, Benjamin Creed.”
Aries turned and marched out of that barn so fast, the cool wind smacked her across the face as he made his exit. She knew her man now. This wasn’t anger but the shattered remains of a bruised and broken heart. Damn you, Benjamin!
Aries now knew for a fact that Benjamin didn’t want him. The guessing game