The wind was blowing strong and relentless and that constant tapping on the glass woke me up. The voracity contained in the ferocious turns hitting the window of my room, did not allow me to sleep well; Tired of tossing and turning in bed, of curling up on the bedspread without falling asleep, I got up. I had to rub my eyes and shine my phone's flash to get my bearings a bit.

The storm was doing its thing outside. I hugged myself, wrapping my arms around myself. Most likely, the light returned until the storm had subsided. I stumbled out, still sleepy. I went to Isaac's room, there I found him succumbed to rest. From the frame of his bedroom, I watched him with a half smile. He was an incredible child, he did not flinch at the noise of lightning, or thunder. However, the brave little boy who slept peacefully was also delicate and susceptible to cat and dog allergies. In addition to being afraid of the dark, but sleeping deeply, he was not terrified that everything was gloomy around him. Between bravery and fear, like every human being, behind was a wonderful and intelligent child.

I advanced stealthily, I didn't want to wake him up, he would get grumpy every time I interrupted his sweet dreams. I managed to get into bed with him and hugged him. He barely stammered in his sleep, and continued to doze. I put the phone on the table and tried to sleep, ignoring that everything outside was shaking.

…

In the morning I was the victim of a young man scattering kisses all over my face. That's how my awakenings were; I returned the gesture by tickling him. It wriggled under my body like a worm, when I got tired, I got its revenge. In the end I snuggled him on purpose, he would get angry when I told him that he was still my baby, it doesn't matter if he was already seven years old.

“Mother!” she growled her thick eyebrows lowered angrily.

“You can get angry if you want, but you're mommy's little boy” I assured just to see how he was upset.

His eyes narrowed, looking a lot like Ismail.

“I can't be a baby, remember that I'm the smartest in my class” He declared with his chin raised

The funniest morning scene.

“Of course, I cannot forget that I have the most intelligent son on this planet. For that matter, go get ready, or we'll be late for school and a smart-ass kid like you, avoid being late” I pointed out sweetly.

His eyes widened in horror. That's right, Isaac Lombardi, he hated being late. That's why in his room he had a huge clock on the wall, another on the bedside table, and just to make sure that both were correct, one on his left wrist.

I denied fun and went to my room, I had to start getting ready. Like every Monday, my shift started at nine o'clock. Which meant that the minutes were counted, the good thing is that months ago Kelly encouraged me to drive, I learned quickly and got my license, now I did not take the bus, nor did I get hysterical just because all the taxis were already occupied.

“To have breakfast!” I warned finishing making the scrambled eggs.

My son appeared neatly, with neat hair, well-dressed uniform. From my place I could smell her delicious perfume. Like a real little man, he sat on the stool and folded his hands on the counter. Like his father, his biggest flaw was being impatient, that came out through his pores.

“Here you go, toast and scrambled eggs, sweetie” I left the plate in front of him, and before turning for my plate, I leaned in leaving a kiss on his cheek. “But how good you smell, son”

"Please, can I have the peanut butter?" he asked in a sour voice.

I rolled my eyes, and passed him the jar of butter. But I gave him a warning look because I hadn't liked that tone of voice.

"I think we can do something today, maybe take a walk." What are you saying? I proposed taking a bite of the toast that I spread with red jam.

He looked at me over his eyelashes and went back to his business, he had almost ignored me. Wait, that was just done. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“I'm talking to you, Isaac” I scolded with a serious expression.

“I know, I don't want to go for a walk” He didn't even contact me.

“Why?

“It's weird, just you and me. My classmates go out with their parents, but I only go out with you" he snorted, then looked at me with puppy dog eyes. “When can I meet dad? why don't you have a picture of him, mom?” he inquired in a low tone, but it still sounded demanding.

I knew that he would insist on that matter. It had been no use avoiding him for years. Pretending that he didn't exist, erasing him from his life, nothing worked. And I feared it since he was born, I was afraid that the day would come when he would ask the same question.

With a huge lump closing around my throat, to the point that it was heartbreaking, I half sided my breakfast.

"N-this is not the time to talk about that topic." So, finish eating and no more questions, Isaac. I was able to say with a trembling voice.

I had lost my appetite. So, I got up and explained that I would go get the car keys.

The truth is that I went to the bathroom, once I locked the door, I looked in the mirror. A little stomach ache wandered around, awakening remote nerves, the anxiety hidden under the layers of my skin. She felt her palms clammy and her heart beating wildly, dizzying.

When I recovered, I returned to the kitchen. I found my son with his arms crossed, he was going to reply about it, but in question he interrupted me.

"Aaron will never be my father" she snapped reluctantly, then added firmly. And I'll never love him, because he's dumb, stupid...

"No more, that's enough!" I don't know they got along. Since I started dating Aaron, he had become a very difficult child. Yes, he was opposed to our relationship, there was not a day that he did not make it clear to me. But that didn't give him the right to insult him, let alone disrespect him. Wahlberg and I met again a year ago, at Kelly's engagement party with Sean; Aaron turned out to be the brother of Carrie, the girl who went to Rosewood but I never had a word with.

Kelly, he talked a few times with her, now that they ran into each other at work, they became attached.

At first his brother and I became friends, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend and I turned him down, over and over again. I think his persistence eventually made him give in. I decided to give love a chance, to him; a sincere and attentive man. But Isaac still didn't accept it. Which hurt a little; he was trying at all costs to win it over and so far, nothing had worked.

“I can't force you to love it, love is born, it doesn't come out of nowhere. Grab your backpack and let's go” I blurted out without wanting to get into a discussion.

He did it reluctantly, all the way he didn't erase the bad face. I turned on the radio, as if nothing had happened. Despite everything, when he arrived, he gave me a kiss on the cheek and left, but not before wishing me a good day. Until I made sure that I was entering the school, then I was able to accelerate the car.

I entered the tedious traffic. Nothing out of context; accustomed to waiting, I began to hum the song that was playing. There was still thirty minutes to go. Everything stopped, even the annoying noise of the horns from one side to the other, because Isaac's words settled in my head, eating away.

Aaron will never be my father...

I took a deep breath, turning off the radio. I hit the steering wheel annoyed. I was drowning, it was not easy to tell her the truth, the one that was abruptly ripping my soul out, and I deserved it for being a liar. It didn't matter if I did it to avoid another disaster, however there would only be another catastrophe as soon as I found Ismail and told him about our common son.

He was keeping it from her, he was afraid that once he found out, he would want to fight for custody. She had power, rights that I took from her from the moment I didn't tell her about my pregnancy.

Neither excuses nor absurd explanations would be valid.

Late, it was late for us, but that didn't mean it was the same for father and son. Each one had the right to share, get to know each other and enjoy life together. What was said about him also stopped me, he was happily married to the Russian model, and I was well in a strange courtship. There was so much space between Aaron and me that I didn't seem like his girlfriend, and he didn't seem like my partner. We barely kissed on the lips, and the next step became distant every time I avoided taking it.

“I wasn't ready” He would not be, until the advances ceased to be just a false facade, with which he claimed to have left life by his side on the shores of lifeless oblivion. At my twenty-five years, I was still stuck and stranded in the bitter taste of what I was in the past, however it seemed too much like the burning abyss, because it also consumed me, dragging with it the ashes of what was left.

And I could not mitigate the burning that spread on my skin.

I shook my head, stopping to wander to distant horizons, remote directions that were distant, although forced, from a path that I was now traveling.

It hurt me to walk on old paths; Fixing our wrong history stirred up conflicting thoughts within me, causing me to rethink whatever it was I had with Aaron.

The march resumed, by then, I stopped delving, with great difficulty, into the past. I parked the Nissan, downstairs, in the underground parking lot of the building where I worked. With less than five minutes to go for the day, I had already occupied my desk.

Valentina approached me raising an eyebrow. Pretty blonde, enviable intellect, but quite a nosy and loud woman. The yellow folder that he had in his hands, he dropped it on my workplace.

“Good morning, Marianne”

“Hello, Valentina, why are you giving me this?” I asked wrinkling my brow.

He rested his arms on her narrow waist.

“Honey, it's your assignment. It inadvertently made me a little curious and I checked it out. I think I would have liked to have had the pleasure of interviewing such a specimen of a man” he expressed biting his lip, even groaning as he said the last words. “But you know how Anastasia is, our little boss has you in high esteem, she blindly trusts you, she has already made it clear to me. It's not uncommon for you to have been given the opportunity to interview a tycoon like Al-Murabarak. God! I even feel like my panties get wet just imagining it”

In the midst of all the chatter, his name was the knife that stabbed me. The air left my system, with atrophied lungs, I had to fan my face.

"Good for you, but don't flatter yourself that he has a wife." he added with amusement.

The worst joke, if I knew what it meant to meet Ismail Al-Murabarak, I wouldn't be spouting nonsense.

“Oh really?”

“It's not a joke, redhead” He rolled his eyes.

Still without giving credit, I reviewed the contents of the folder, only to verify that a bad move of life, put it back in my present.