Page 148 of Five Summers

“But that doesn’t explain why you ignored my texts when I told you I was pregnant and again on the day Alex was born?”

I lift my head in response, as though she’s speaking a different language. I blink, feeling dumbfounded, with the words lingering in my mind.

“I texted you, Xander, to let you know I was pregnant. And again the day Alex was born. But you ghosted me. Why?” She stares at me.

“Because I didn’t fucking know,” I mutter, scanning the room in disbelief. My stomach churns with sickness. The sensation of the room spinning overwhelms me. All this time, and I didn’t fucking know.

“But how, when I sent you those messages? I texted you the night you called me and didn’t speak.”

“Because after that call, I threw my fucking phone into the lake straight after I called you. I did it to let you go.” I release her hand and get up from the bed, pacing back and forth across the room.

Little did I know she had been pregnant with my son. All these years passing without knowing I had a kid because I was a fucking idiot, unable to bear the pain of losing her and resorting to drastic measures of throwing my phone in the lake. What the fuck have I done? She’s done it all by herself while I’ve been living my dream. Suddenly, I turn towards her.

“So, that's why you never pursued your dreams and ended up working in a bar?” I ask.

She stares at me, and I see her swallow.

“Answer the fucking question, Poppy.”

“Yes.”

Her response hits me hard. Her mother was right. I was the lowlife who would alter her life and sabotage her dreams. She never had the opportunity to pursue any of the things she wanted. It's too much, knowing that it’s all my fault. My heart is racing, and I can't catch my breath. I need to get the hell out of here before I break down in front of her.

“I have to go,” I state, rushing over to the door and letting myself out. I need to get the fuck away from here and think.

I rush down the hall with no idea of where I’m going. After what Poppy just said, I need to get out of here. I’m not angry that she told me. I’m angry at myself because it’s just another asshole move I pulled on her all those years ago. She was pregnant. We should have been going through it together, instead, I left her alone to deal with it all by herself. The overwhelming sense of guilt and shame washes over me, making me feel like a complete asshole.

I stride quickly down the street. Fuck, I should have grabbed my wig and cap. Just something to avoid catching people’s attention so I don’t have phones pointing in my direction. I can’t deal with that shit at the moment of some fan wanting a photo.

“Hey, man,” says someone.

And that’s the problem with fame. No matter how awful or messed up you feel, everyone expects you to put on an act for their benefit. Well, fuck it. I’m not in the mood. I need to get away from here and think.

“Fucking asshole!” I hear the same voice shout behind me because I didn’t stop and make his day so he can brag to his friends.

If I were just an average guy, I’d turn around and tell him to fuck right off. But I can’t because I don’t want to make a scene right now.

I hear my phone ping, and I don’t bother checking it. Whatever it is can wait. I pick up the pace and sprint down the street, racing toward the taxi pulling up to the curb.

I'm standing there, waiting for the door to open, when this girl gets out and does a double take the moment she spots me. She flashes me an excited smile, but I brush her off and jump into the taxi, slamming the door.

“Where to?” The taxi driver asks. He’s middle-aged, and judging by the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he has no idea who I am. Thank God I don't have to deal with all the fanboying shit while feeling this way.

“Anywhere,” I add, not caring about the destination. I just need time to think.

“You need to give me somewhere, man, otherwise we’ll just drive around.”

“Just take me somewhere quiet where I can be alone and think. Where people won’t annoy me.”

“Okay, you got it.” He turns left at the next intersection, and we continue to drive.

There’s music playing on the radio, and normally, I enjoy listening to random tunes, trying to guess the song by its opening ten seconds. But today, with everything on my mind, I can’t even focus on that.

For all this time, I’ve had a son out there. My son. My own flesh and blood. Just last week, when I heard Poppy talking to her son, I yearned to be a part of that world. Now I am. He’s my son, and I belong to their special bond.

Guilt, my old friend, brings up all these old feelings, making me feel like the biggest piece of shit for what I did, not only to Poppy but to Alex as well. It highlights how I’ve messed up bigger than I thought. Poppy has been handling all of this on her own. I should have stayed back at the hotel and asked her more questions about everything, but I couldn’t think, and I did what I always do. I ran. I regret not answering her calls years ago, believing that with me out of the picture, I was improving her life, when in reality, I only fucked it up. Made it more difficult. I should have been there all along for her, for our son, acting as a father figure. Fuck, I’m no better than my asshole father. What the fuck is wrong with me? All I do is hurt people, especially the people I love.

My father and Poppy’s mother are right. I am a piece of shit. I’ve hurt the only girl I’ve ever loved so much more than I thought. I messed up her dream, and now she's probably been busting her ass to make ends meet, and that's why she's stuck at that damn bar. God, that alone is enough reason for her to hate me.

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