Page 143 of Back to Willow

“Mummy?” Dylan calls me, pulling on my sleeve. “I’m tired,” he whines.

We’ve been walking around the city for an hour, and I honestly don’t know what to do. Will he be waiting by my car at his building? Or by my house? Will he be fully out of my life from now on? Will they join forces to take Dylan from me?

I shiver in fear just from the thought. It feels like if I make a decision, it will be final, and I am too triggered to face him and too scared to lose him.

“I’m sorry, baby. Let’s go sit down a little bit, okay?” I pull him up onto my arms and carry him to the bench across the street.

“Mummy?” I hum in response, holding him to my side while he plays with the ends of my hair. “Why did we have to leave?”

“I am so sorry, baby. We wanted to give you the best Christmas, but things didn’t go as planned. Liam’s parents don’t get along with me. I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He sniffles. “Can we go back?”

“I–I don’t know,” I confess. “It’s up to Liam. How about Mummy calls a cab so we go home, for now? Then we can talk to Liam later and maybe visit him again.” He nods, burying his head into my side.

It’s hard to keep my composure while my brain keeps attacking me with old memories. Seeing Mason after all of these years has opened up the hole I have been trying so hard to fill.

He was just there like nothing ever happened, like he didn’t strip me of my dignity and step on it afterwards. Like he didn’t vanish into thin air and leave me to pick up the pieces of everything he destroyed.

At that moment, it felt like someone opened my chest and squeezed my heart to ashes.

And by now, after the confusion that I saw in his eyes has worn off, Liam is probably siding with them, blaming me for everything.

We’ll need to know which one of you will ask for full custody.

No other words could scare me as much as those. I’d still rather go through all the pain again than lose my son. They took everything from me that night. I lost the person I was, the person I loved most in life, and even most of my family. Knowing I have Dylan has been my rock, my strength to go forward, and I won’t let them take that away from me as well.

I’ll run away again if I have to.

Warm fingers brush my soaked cheeks, and I open my eyes to find Dylan looking at me with a miserable expression. My poor baby, having to go through all of this and constantly watching me break down. He deserves better than this.

“Don’t be sad, Mummy.” Dylan climbs onto my lap, hugging me. “It’s Christmas. We have to be happy!”

I let out a shaky laugh at his attempt to cheer me up. “Yes, you’re right.”

“Willow?” a male voice calls from a distance.

I freeze, afraid of looking up to see who it is. At least, only until Dylan shrieks the person’s name.

“Athur!”

He jumps off my lap and runs to my Portuguese and Literature professor. Well,former professorsince the semester has finished.

Arthur ruffles Dylan’s hair before crouching down to his height. My son wastes no time jumping into his arms, and he picks him up, unfazed. Then he slowly comes my way, and as the distance closes in, I see a frown forming on his face. Probably due to my bloodshot eyes and swollen face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sitting down next to me.

I shake my head, not wanting to talk about, it but Dylan beats me to it. “We were at Dad Liam’s for Christmas. Some persons appeared and were mean to Mummy. She cried, and we left.”

Well, that’s a light way to put it. My eyes blur, but I dab them, not wanting to cry again.

“Is that all that happened?” he asks, sceptical of my silence.

Doesn’t he know kids are too pure to lie? He just doesn’t know the details that made me so upset.

“Hewas there,” I whisper.

“As in...”

---