04 | broken love

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C A R T E R

I have a son.

I have a four-year-old son.

I am a father.

Fucking hell

My body stills, all movements ceasing as Amaya keeps looking at me like she is expecting me to say something.

Whatever she is expecting me to say, I can't.

I didn't know I had a son. I didn't know anything.

She never told me she was pregnant. We had always been careful with that. We had it all planned - two years of just being married and then we would think of kids. However, the way we used to be all over each other was quite contradictory.

But what if it happened without both of us knowing? Did she know she was pregnant the day of our wedding?

Fuck! What have I done...

I shut Amaya's file, taking my glasses off my eyes when I feel them start to moisten. I rub my eyes hard, not wanting Amaya to see how close I am to having a breakdown.

"You may leave, Miss. Sommers," I say in a strained voice. "We're done for today."

She doesn't make an attempt to move as she watches me.

My Snippy looks just the same as she did all those years ago but there is something on her face - a kind of tiredness - that makes me think that it is because of me.

Her brunette hair is tied to a bun, and the soft tendrils - the ones I had a fun time wrapping my fingers around every time we had sex - frame her soft features. Her eyes glisten as they focus on me.

"Carter..." she whispers.

I close my eyes, my name on her lips still sounding the same as it did years ago.

"Just go, Miss. Sommers." I force myself to maintain my calm as I speak with a straight face. "Please leave."

Her jaw ticks as she gets up from her chair. Snatching the file from my hands, she flips around, walking away from me. She reaches the door, stops, hesitates, but then pulls it open and steps out.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I dash from my seat towards the direction of the private bathroom that came with my office.

Reaching the toilet, I throw the cover open, bending down and throwing the contents of my stomach into it.

I gag, half crying, half aching as I flush the toilet and walk over to the washbasin. After washing my mouth thoroughly, I drag my body to the nearest wall.

Leaning against it, I pop open the buttons of my suit and push it off my body, letting my collar loosen. Once my body is more comfortable with the present environment, I let the tears escape my eyes.

I have a son and I don't even know what he looks like. I have a son who doesn't know he has a father who regrets not knowing him sooner. I don't know what he likes or dislikes, I don't know if he knows he has a father, I don't know if he would love me if he knows me.

What happened to us? How come I never tried to find Amaya after everything was over?

I should have tried instead of letting myself be blackmailed by that old man. My grandfather has always thought that what I had with Amaya was just a high-school relationship. He doesn't know the depth of us. He doesn't know because he hasn't seen it.

I scream into the air, letting my frustration with my life tear through me.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I yell at myself or the ghosts of the past, I don't know.

The door to the bathroom is pushed open and Dawson steps in.

"Sir?" He looks at me in shock. "What happened?"

I look at the man. He has been my closest companion over the years, the only friend I have. I could tell him my darkest secrets and he wouldn't spill a thing because he is the only one who actually cares for me.

"I have a son, Dawson..." I tell him softly. "I have a son and he doesn't know how much I love him."

If Dawson is shocked, he doesn't show it. He steps inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and coming to crouch in front of me. His face has a flicker of worry as he finds me lying broken in front of him. I am his boss but he is much older than me, much more experienced with life.

Be it life or finance, I depend on him most of the time.

"Carter...you need to get up. You've to go through twelve more interviews today." He touches my shoulder gently. "Get up and proper yourself."

"I have a son," I repeat, staring blankly at the wall ahead. "I am a father."

"Yes...yes...I heard that but you need to get up now."

"What should I do, Dawson?" I ask him, running my hands through my hair. "Should I ask Amaya to let me meet him? Or should I do nothing? But...how can I do nothing? I need to see him. I need to see him, Dawson. Will she let me?"

"He's your son, Carter. You didn't even know he existed all this time. I think she would," Dawson says. "Do you want me to tell this to Mr. Bell?"

"No," I snap quickly, even the thought of his question seeming horrifying. "Don't say anything to him. If he finds out he has a great-grandson, he will file for custody immediately, without even seeing the child. I can't let that happen to Amaya."

"But wouldn't you like to file custody too? Do you want him?"

"Of course, I want him, Dawson!" I nearly yell at him. "He's my son but I wasn't present all this time. What right do I have to seek custody when I don't even know what he looks like? No, that's...that's not how we do it."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting a migraine as I start to see blurry visions in front of me.

"Okay, here's what I'm gonna do," I say, pulling myself up and slinging my suit over my shoulder with one finger. "I'm gonna go out there and take the rest of the interviews. Then, I'll go home and tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow?" Dawson repeats, looking curiously at me.

"Tomorrow, I'll go and meet my son."

***

After finishing twelve more interviews, I find myself with a blinding headache when I step out of my office.

Dawson quickly starts to follow me as he opens doors and keeps the employees away who are ready with their anxious questions. It is the weekend after this and the ones who haven't had their evaluation done yet would have to wait till Monday which must suck but I can't help it.

It is past 7 pm and the work hours are over.

"Did you get the penthouse ready?" I ask Dawson as we step into the private elevator.

"Yes, sir. We'll be heading there now," he answers.

"No, not now. I need to go shopping first."

He seems to choke at my words as he meets me with widened eyes.

"You? Shopping?"

"Hmm..."

"Why?"

"Didn't I say that already?" The elevator doors open and we step out. "I'm meeting my son tomorrow, Dawson. I can't go empty-handed."

"But sir, do you know what he likes?"

"He's a four-year-old. Shouldn't be hard to guess."

"Yeah...right," he nods as my driver stops the Range Rover in front of the building for us.

"Take me to the most expensive mall in here," I order the driver while Dawson opens the door for me.

"Hey...isn't that your baby momma with that man?"

I stop as I am about to get inside the car and quickly snap my head towards the direction Dawson is looking at.

Sure enough, there is Amaya but whereas the sight of her usually pleases me, the sight of the man in front of her rings a hundred warning bells in my head.

He is on his bike, casually chatting with her while she wears her helmet. He is tall, looks rich by the model he is riding, is dressed in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, and has a face looking quite ordinary but good enough for Amaya to pay attention to him.

She laughs at something he says, not noticing that I am standing right opposite them. She places a hand on the man's shoulder as she gets on his bike. He shuts the visor of his helmet and pulls her arms around his waist, making her hold on to him tight.

The action sends a spark of insane anger rushing through me. I clench my fingers into fists as I watch him kick start the engine of his motorcycle.

'Hold me tight, Snippy. You'll fall.'

'Ride slow.'

'Not my thing, babe.'

"Find out who that guy is," I growl at Dawson as the man rushes into the road with my girl behind him. "I need to know everything."

"What do you plan to do, Sir?" he questions.

"I don't know," I mutter under my breath. "Will probably try to send him somewhere far off from here."

"You don't even know who that guy is. He could be just her friend."

"I don't care. He made her laugh. That's reason enough for me."

I enter the car and Dawson enters after me. While the driver starts the engine, my PA takes out a notebook and pen from his pocket and begins to scribble something in it. I narrow my eyebrows at him as I see him start writing something with my name.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He lifts his head, blinking at me innocently.

"Oh...this? It's a diary I've decided to keep...to note about you and Miss. Sommers." I quirk an eyebrow and he clears his throat. "This diary is called 'How to get your girl 101 - in the ways of Carter Bell'."

"Dawson..." I draw on his name, throwing him a warning look.

"Tip 1 - leave her on your wedding day. Make sure not to give any reasons as to why."

"Dawson..."

"Tip 2 - return as her boss and make her work for you."

"Dawson..."

"Tip 3 - send the guy she possibly likes to somewhere far off. Tip guaranteed to work."

"Dawson!"

"Yes, Sir!" He looks up, fighting back a smirk when he sees me glare at him.

"Never read that to me again," I warn.

"Yes, Sir."

•••

author's note

I know I said Sunday but thank you for 5k followers here on Wattpad. Behind Your Walls was the first book that got me my first 1 million and I hold a special place for Amaya and Carter in my heart.

So, here's a new update and no worries! I'll be updating Sunday too. :)

Don't forget to share your thoughts!

If you are looking for another story with first loves, sex, drama and gang wars, then don't forget to check out my ongoing story Fragile Things on my profile.

PS: I'm doing a Q&A on my Instagram handle @ iya_fictional . Would love to greet you guys there!


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