A drunken one night stand three years ago, that's how it started.
And Matty never finding out he has a son, is how she wants it to stay.
But she's a fool if she thinks it will end that way.
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"Do you need me to call anyone?" His voice was laced with worry, as he made his way back to me, now back on the couch, as he thrust a glass of water in my face to take.
I protested, holding a hand up as I shook my head. But received a disapproving scowl in return, making me take the glass from him. His eyes never left my face until I took a sip.
Suddenly I could see the huge resemblance of the two, looks and personality wise, to him and his brother. It was uncanny. They both had that same gaze that could make anyone back down in seconds.
He now sat in the chair opposite me, giving me an almost saddened look. Was it pity? Please don't.... And by the time he'd sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and dropping dramatically, just about to open his mouth to say something, I cut in and bet him to it.
"Really, I'm okay" I lied.
And he knew. He knew it was just words. A front. As he dropped his head to the side and shot me a half smile that silently pleaded with me to not be so standoffish with him.
"I'm a good listener" he smiled. Reaching over the coffee table to take the glass from my hand and placed it down. Now taking a seat closer to me. Making me now notice my hands were trembling.
But I only shook my head in return. Still feeling short of breath and now feeling a massive burden. Confusion was riddled in me. What was he even doing here?
"Talking can help, trust me. I know the signs of anxiety" he told me calmly, once again smiling across at me warily, as if to innocently prove he wasn't meaning to stand on my toes and butt in.
Why was he being so nice? Why was he acting as though he cared. He'd met me once. And that time I saw him, we got on, yes, but the last he saw of me was me all over his older brother. His brother who already had a girlfriend at that point. Practically naked. I knew what he thought... And as that thought entered my memory, I was now unable to even look him in the face.
See.... Slut. I knew it. Everyone knew it.
"Taylor?" He pushed gently. His face looking worried again as I stared off, stuck in thought. My own head tormenting me.
"I'm just- I'm not much of a good talker" I told him. Keeping my gaze on the floor. The same thing stuck in my head of how I must come across to everyone. Repeatedly stuck in a hatred thought against myself.
Just a slag. A homewrecker. Gagging for it... Anything I can get.
I know that's what they think.
But before he's able to reply, crying from Timmy's bedroom fills the air around us. Causing Lou's head to snap in that direction.
"He's here? I thought-" his brows fuse together as his eyes drop on me harshly, frowning in confusion, annoyance, "weren't you just about to leave?" He stands, glaring down at me.
What was I meant to say to that? Was I? Was I in such a distressed mess I was just about to up and leave, not even releasing my son was asleep in the bedroom?
Would I have actually left the building hadn't Louis been here?
"I just needed some air" I tell him, my voice laced with obvious guilt. Desperate to justify myself. But fully aware I was feeling nothing but ashamed and disgusted with myself. I just wasn't thinking clearly. Everything became too much for me....
That doesn't mean I'm not a good parent. Because right at this moment in time, it feels like being a good mother is the only thing I'm just about decent at.
I can't have people take that away from me too.
Now desperate to be out of this situation. Away from the tension. Away from his constant changing facial expressions, judging, not being able to read him. Not yet knowing why he's even at my flat, or how he was able to find it, I quickly jump from my seat and head straight for my son, making a beeline, before he can and call me out as a bad mum.
"I can-" he offers as I pass him, suddenly standing again.
"I got it!" I snap back. Hoping to god he's taken the hint and vanished when I get back.
"I just want to help" he calls out. Sounding wounded. Guilty suddenly.
But I ignore his words. And get to cradling my sleeping son in my arms. Feeling like a massive failure. Feeling worthless. Like he suddenly deserves far more. Better.... Than me.
Why did I feel like I was losing everything, like I had nothing, when right at this moment in time, I had everything I'd ever wanted. More than I'd ever had.
