Maybe this time [Completed]

Chapter 11

Three days later, my mom's revelation was still going through my head. Was she right? Was there really something between me and Paul back then?

And if it was true, should I ask Paul about it? It would be awkward though. Like how would I bring that into the conversation?

Hey Paul, do you think we should have dated 20 years ago? I could be married to you now.

Very straightforward, just the way I like it. But hella embarassing if he laughs his face off in response. Well, I could play it off as a joke but I doubt if he would buy it. Aaarrrrgh! The shame would kill me.

I'd rather live the rest of my life not knowing than risk him rubbing it on my face everytime we meet.

I wonder though what he wanted to talk to me about. Anyway we'll be meeting up in a few hours so there's no sense obsessing about it.

"Lucas honey," I called out from his bedroom. "Did you pack everything you need for the weekend? Did Daddy tell you if you're going out or just staying at home?"

He stood outside the door, eyes roving around as he checked out what I was doing to his closet.

"I don't know mom," he answered, probably after deciding I didn't look like I was wrecking his private space so it was okay. "We didn't talk about it when he called last night."

Then he went off again, I assume back to the kitchen, seeing as he was holding a sandwich earlier.

I sighed. Ray just told me last night that he was picking up our son an hour from now, but I had no idea what his plans were. Typical of him, he doesn't like to plan ahead, especially for his rest days.

I wasn't sure whether to pack warmer clothes for going out in this spring weather, or just plain clothes for use inside the house.

Picking up my phone from the bed, I quickly dialled his number, listening to a few rings before he finally answered.

"Elisse, I'm driving. Is this urgent?"

"Oh. Sorry. I just didn't know what clothes to pack for Lucas. Do you have plans to go out this weekend?"

"Well, yeah. Probably to the park and play ball or something. Depends on our mood. You want to come with us?"

"No, no. This is your time together. I'll just pack a few coats for him then."

"Alright. I'll be there in about an hour. Bye."

I quickly finished packing then carried the weekend bag out to the living room. Lucas wasn't there, so I went to the kitchen and found him munching on a sandwich as I thought.

With his boundless energy, no wonder he has to eat all the time. I get tired just watching him move around.

"Hi mom, want some?"

"What are you eating, honey?"

"Peanut butter sandwich. I made it myself!" he proudly announced, grinning.

I smiled back then sat across from him on the table. I rarely get a chance to observe him like this anymore, just sitting still with a peaceful look on his face.

He is growing up so fast. Gone were the chubby baby cheeks that I loved to kiss and pinch. He has grown taller too, almost to my shoulders now. He's shaping up to be as tall as his father, he'll be towering over me soon.

But he still looked so much like me. People always say he is my mirror image, looking at him, they could see how I would look like as a guy.

We have the same round cheeks, sharp nose, and round lips.  The most distinct feature we both have are our eyes.

Almond shaped and fringed with dark lashes, I'd say it's our best feature. I won't describe myself as pretty, but I do love my eyes, especially the color. It's mostly gray with a distinct black ring surrounding the iris.

Practically everyone I've met told me afterwards that my eyes were the first thing they remember about me.

The same eyes were staring at me now.

"Why are you watching me like that mom? It's kinda creepy."

"What? Why is that creepy? I just love looking at you, honey. You're growing up so fast, I feel like I have to save as many images of you in my head as fast as I can or else you'll be a grown up in the blink of an eye."

"Geesh. Girls. So cheesy," he grumbled, looking away. I laughed at his embarassment.

"Fine. I'll leave you to eat in peace. I have to get ready anyway, I'm meeting a friend later."

"Who?"

"Oh I'm not sure if you remember. You only met him once when you were small. His name is Paul, he's an old friend in the office."

"Why are you meeting today, then? There's no work on Saturday."

What is this, an interrogation? I look at him suspiciously, wondering where all the questions were coming from.

"Because he's been out of the country for a long time and only just got back. So we're meeting to catch up. He told me to say hi to you actually."

"Well, I don't remember him so I can't say hi back," he grumbled again.

"Lucas, that's not nice, honey. He is mommy's friend, he's a good person."

"He's not my friend, though."

I sighed. My son has always been possessive of me, even more so after the divorce.

That is what pains me the most, seeing the effect this whole process had on him. He would randomly ask me questions like this one that broke my heart: Mommy, are we going to divorce one day, too?

His innocent mind cannot yet process what happened to me and his dad, why we're living in separate homes now, and why he sees his dad only on weekends.

I felt like my heart was being crushed as I looked at his defiant face.