Page 51 of Back to Willow

“No, baby,” I answer defeatedly while picking him up.

He settles over my hip, my hack to better support his weight. A frown takes over his face, and it hurts me even more.

This is such a mess. How can I explain to a five-year-old that he probably is the outcome of non-consensual sex? That I ran away from the situation and never wanted to take a DNA test because of what that could mean to me, to my ex-boyfriend, and to who the real father is. I just…can’t.

“I haven’t found him yet,” I tell him, grazing my finger over his reddened cheek. “As soon as I do, I’ll contact him and ask him to meet you, yeah?”

Stalling isn’t the solution, but I can’t bear to truly break his heart.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around my neck and placing his head on my shoulder as I walk us both to my car.

“So, what did you learn at school today?”

“Oh,” he exclaims, raising his head and looking back at me. An exciting glint swirls in his irises. “We were taught to count even more numbers, Mummy! Like, they don’t have an end.” His hands wave and move in the air in rhythm to his speech, and it’s so amusing to watch.

Just like that, he forgets about what was making him sad, easily getting distracted by what he enjoys, babbling and laughing throughout the entire car ride home. The afternoon passes quickly as I help him out with some educational games, and we play football in the backyard.

Nana came back yesterday, but she still looks pretty tired from the days away, probably taking care of everything for her little brother’s funeral. So, before leaving for this friends’ date, I’m cooking dinner for them.

This is my favourite part out of the entire house. It was already fully renovated when Nana bought it, with these beautiful wall-built cabinets in sage green covering two walls, making an L. The bottom row of cabinets is topped by a white counter and a built-in stove and oven.

It has tons of storage and a cooking area. It’s divine. There is also a huge island in the middle and a little corner by the window with a rustic-style dining table—my favourite.

“Lo, dear?”

“In the kitchen, Nana,” I yell just as I turn off the stove. “Do you want me to set the table?”

“No, dear. You’ve done more than enough. Go get dressed and have fun. I’ll take it from here.” She smiles at me and sits down beside Dylan who gives her a wide grin.

Upstairs, I put on some loose mum jeans and a tight white top, then brush my hair into a loose French braid. I head downstairs to head out, kissing them both on the head and picking a bottle of wine before walking to the car.

It’s a quick drive to Jo’s since she lives so close. When she opens the door, there’s light chatter in the background, letting me know everyone else has already arrived.

“Willow! You’re here,” she squeals in delight as if it were a surprise to see me here.

With a small, shy smile, I side-hug her. She’s always so radiant, happy, and full of energy. It’s always as inspiring as it is intimidating.

“Hey, Jo. I brought some wine.”

“I told you I’ve got it covered, silly!” She waves me off. “Oh, wow! That’s a decent wine. I didn’t expect you to bring a good one. Nice job!”

What?

My eyebrows twist in a frown, confusion hitting me. But before I can answer, she twirls around, heading inside, and I take the hint to move into the living room.

Ethan stands up right away, hugging me tightly. Sofia follows, kissing my cheek, and Hazel nods in acknowledgement. I guess that’s as good as you can get, so I smile in return. She’s hardened on the outside, but it looks more like a defence mechanism than anything else.

We all sit down at her white oval table, which is already set and prepared.

“Were you waiting for me long? Sorry—”

“We just got here,” Ethan answers with a smile. “Like one minute before you.”

“Oh, good,” I exhale in relief.

I hate being late; it’s not polite at all.

As we wait for Johanna to return, I look around a little. The decor really suits her vibe. The walls are stark white, the furniture a light grey with modern and straight lines. The decoration is kept to a minimum, but it has splashes of colour here and there with the pillows, the paintings and the chandeliers or lamps—giving it just enough personality.

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