“Y-You're… dad is… gone. He's gone, honey. He won't come back to us anymore,” I answered with my trembling lips.
I CLOSED MY EYES, the weight of my own words still fresh in my mind. I’d seen the flash of hurt on my son’s face when I told him that his father was gone. I knew it was a lie, but I just wanted to end the questions, to stop the endless hope in his eyes for something I knew I couldn’t give him.
To me, Alpha Damon was as good as dead. Or so I thought.
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. The memory of my son’s sad, confused expression replayed in my mind, filling me with guilt. The next morning, I tried to cheer him up.
“Honey, do you want to go outside? It’s Saturday. We can go to the park,” I said with a forced smile. Aaron loves to play with his friends. But today, he seems not really in the mood to do that. And I'm the only one who would be blamed for that.
“No, mommy. I'm fine here,” Aaron answered as he looked at the window.
I sighed, but still not giving up to make him happy. “Hmm, you told me the other day that you want a new toy. We can buy it now,” I said.
Aaron shook his head. “I don't want it anymore…” he answered, almost coming out as a whisper.