Page 48 of From Fake Dates to Forever Goals

“It was hard,” she admits, pausing as her gaze lingers on a photograph of me as a baby.

“But?” I prod gently.

“But it was all worth it. Look at what a wonderful man you’ve grown to be.” She rubs my cheek with a tender smile.

Her words should warm my heart, but instead, I feel a pang of guilt. I’m not the wonderful man she thinks I am.

“I can’t imagine doing it all on my own,” I say, shaking my head as I think about everything she did for me—every scraped knee, every heartbreak, every triumph. She was always there.

“That’s because you’re not a parent yet,” she replies knowingly.

The weight of her words presses down on me. I hesitate, then ask the question I’ve avoided my whole life. “You never told me why you and Dad decided to get a divorce.”

She sighs deeply, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she shuffles through the old photographs.

“Your father and I got divorced a long time ago, Sebastian. We only decided to tell you once you left for college.”

Her words hit me like a blow. I’d always been told their divorce happened after I left the house.

“I kept it from you because you were too young to know the truth. I wanted to shield you and give you some semblance of a normal childhood,” she explains. “Your father and I fell out of love a long time ago.”

I watch as her face softens, sadness clouding her eyes. She packs away the photos, as if trying to tuck away the memories they hold.

“I tried to keep your father in your life,” she continues, finding one of his pictures in the pile. “But I suppose he just wasn’t ready to be a father.”

Hearing her say that hurts more than I expected. She carried the weight of their separation all on her own, while I selfishly never thought to ask how she managed it all.

“You’re the best mom a son could ask for,” I say, hoping my words can offer her even a fraction of the comfort she’s given me my whole life.

“That means a lot to me, Sebastian.” She hugs me tightly.

Her next question catches me off guard. “Why are you bringing this up after all these years?”

I hesitate, the urge to tell her everything battling against my fear of her disappointment.

“I was just curious, that’s all,” I mumble before standing up and leaving the room.

Later that night, as she heads upstairs to her room after dinner, I sit alone with the weight of my secret. I know I can’t keep this from her any longer. I need her advice.

I make my way to her room and knock softly on the door.

“Do you have a moment?” I ask, seeing her in the middle of her bedtime routine.

“I always have a moment for you, baby,” she says, patting the bed beside her.

I sit down, struggling to find the right words. “Promise me you won’t be disappointed in me,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes narrow with curiosity. “You better not have broken Ava’s heart,” she says sternly.

“I think I have,” I admit, the regret evident in my tone.

Her gasp is loud, and her reaction is immediate.

“You’re going to be a father?” she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement.

I nod, surprised by the sheer joy on her face.

“Do you know how happy you’ve made me?” she says, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

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