Lucas' POV
When my son fainted, Zara took him to the nearest hospital. As usual, I didn't bother to check on the child and let my wife do the work. An hour later, she came home with a weird request. I was caught off guard because of the words coming out of her mouth. She wanted me to give Enrique happy memories before we parted ways. The audacity of her request annoyed me, but at the same time, it tugged at a pang of hidden guilt within me.
"Two months, that's all I'm asking," she reiterated, her eyes hopeful yet filled with sadness.
"Fine, two months. But after that, you have to promise to leave my life for good," I said, trying to sound stern, but my voice betrayed a hint of vulnerability.
She nodded, her lips forming a small smile. "Thank you, Lucas. I appreciate it."
After we agreed on the terms and conditions, she returned to the hospital. I just let her leave but later on, I realized my mistake and followed her to hospital. However, I didn't expect to another man try to act as her husband.
Nick and I argued but then Zara announced that she wouldn't be returning to our house, much to my chagrin. I was furious and reminded her of our agreement. In the end, she had no choice but to go home with me, and not with her best friend, Nick.
Over the next two months, I tried to spend more time with Enrique. I wasn't the best father, and it felt strange to be around him, but I kept my promise. We went on outings, played games, and I even bought him gifts. It was the most effort I had put into spending time with him in years.
Seeing him smile and hearing his laughter was bittersweet. I couldn't help but wonder how different things would have been if I had embraced fatherhood from the start. But my past actions had consequences, and I couldn't erase them.
As the weeks went by, I found myself slowly bonding with Enrique. He was a sweet and innocent child, completely unaware of the complexities surrounding him. I tried my best to push away the resentment and animosity I had harbored towards him and his mother, but it wasn't easy.
One day, as I sat with Enrique in the park, he looked up at me with his big, innocent eyes and said, "Daddy, I'm glad we're spending time together. I love you."
Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. Love? Did he really love me? How could he, when I had treated him and his mother so poorly? Guilt washed over me once again, and I struggled to find the right words to respond.
"I... I love you too, Enrique," I managed to say, my voice faltered.
He beamed at me, and for a brief moment, I felt a glimmer of happiness. Maybe, just maybe, I could salvage this broken relationship.
As the two months drew to a close, I found myself torn. On one hand, I had grown fond of spending time with Enrique, and his innocent affection had touched something inside me. But on the other hand, the bitterness and resentment I had felt towards Zara hadn't disappeared.
Zara seemed to sense my internal struggle, and one evening, she confronted me about it. We were alone in the living room, Enrique already asleep in his room.
"Lucas, I know this has been difficult for you, and I appreciate you trying to be there for Enrique. But I can see that you're still holding on to your anger towards me," she said softly.
I sighed, not knowing how to respond. It was true-I couldn't just erase years of resentment and hurt.
"It's not that simple, Zara. You can't expect me to just forget everything that has happened," I replied, my voice tinged with frustration.
"I don't expect you to forget, Lucas. But for Enrique's sake, can't you at least try to forgive?" she pleaded, her eyes searching mine.
"I'm trying, but it's not easy," I admitted, feeling vulnerable.
"I know it's not easy, but holding on to anger and resentment will only continue to hurt you and Enrique. I want him to grow up in a loving and supportive environment, even if that means we're not together as a couple," she said, her words filled with sincerity.
Her words struck a chord within me, and I realized she was right. My anger and bitterness were only hurting myself and my relationship with my son.
"I'll try, Zara. I'll try to let go of the anger," I said, making a promise to myself.
Over the next few weeks, I made a conscious effort to work on myself. I sought therapy to help me process my emotions and learn healthier ways to cope with my past. It wasn't easy, and there were times when I wanted to give up, but I knew I had to do it for Enrique.
Zara was supportive throughout the process, and I began to see her in a new light. She was a strong and resilient woman, raising our son on her own and facing the challenges life had thrown at her. I couldn't help but admire her for her strength.
I found myself spending more time with Enrique and even attending his school events and activities. The joy in his eyes whenever he saw me was heartwarming, and it motivated me to continue working on myself.
One evening, as I tucked Enrique into bed, he looked up at me and said, "Daddy, I'm glad you're my dad. I love you."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I hugged him tightly. "I love you too, Enrique. I'm sorry for everything."
He smiled at me, and in that moment, I knew that I had made the right decision. My heart had softened, and I had found a newfound appreciation for the family I had once rejected.
Over time, Zara and I grew closer as well. We started to communicate openly and honestly, addressing the issues that had driven us apart in the first place. It was a slow process, but we were both willing to put in the effort.
One day, as we sat together in the park, I took a deep breath and said, "Zara, I want to try again. I want to be a better partner to you and a better father to Enrique."
She looked at me, her eyes filled with surprise and hope. "Are you serious, Lucas?"
"I am. I can't change the past, but I want to build a better future for all of us," I said, my voice filled with determination.
She smiled at me, and for the first time in a long time, I saw a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. "I would like that, Lucas. But we have a lot of work to do."
"I know, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes," I replied, taking her hand in mine.
And so, we began the journey of rebuilding our relationship. It wasn't easy, and there were still moments of doubt and fear, but we faced them together. We attended couples therapy, and I continued with my individual therapy as well. Enrique was the glue that held us together. He deserved to grow up in a home filled with love and support, and we were determined to give him that.
Then, I got a call.
"Hello?"
"Lucas, where are you now? You seem to be always busy these past few weeks," Giselle complained on the other line.
When I heard Giselle's voice on the other line, I felt guilty for what I did. Since I agreed to Zara's terms, I neglected my fiancée. I wanted to say sorry for lying to her but then, Zara was approaching, so I had no choice but to end the call quickly.