Part 3
Eight-thirty p. m.
I stared at myself in the mirror, taking in my reflection and wondering if how I looked was okay enough for my meetup with Aaron Hart. I was in a black silk dress with a hollow chest that showed just a hint of my cleavage. It had slim hands and left my shoulders bare. The outfits hugged every curve I had from top to bottom. It doubled in size after I had Zion, and though I thought it would leave in due time, it hadn’t. I wasn’t complaining.
My dirty blonde hair I held up my hair in a loose bun, letting a few curls fall onto my shoulders. I applied a little makeup and touched my lips with red lipstick and my lashes with black mascara. I needed to look my best, and though I felt this was too much, I reminded myself that the man I would meet was Aaron Hart. He might have seemed like a normal man five years ago, but he was a businessman and a multi-millionaire, and I didn’t want to appear wretched before him.
However, tonight wasn’t about me; it was about Zion, our son, and the stakes now that he was back in my life and in his. A lot was going to change, and I wanted to know firsthand what those changes would be like.
With the change in my schedule, I had to hire a nanny to watch over Zion while I was away. I already scheduled the meeting to last no more than two hours at most, and I pray that Aaron will be considerate in using the time for the meeting. After all, I was a mother to a four-year-old son.
Daniel asked if we could make plans for the night, but I told him I couldn’t. I wanted to tell him how today’s events had turned bad, but I wanted to have the full story before revealing it to him. I also hadn’t told Diya yet for the same reason.
I packed my car in the parking lot, which was easier said than done because of the many cars already parked outside.
The Vanity restaurant was one of the largest in the city, and it had great ratings from what I’ve heard, but this was my first time coming here. I didn’t know it had this much pull on people, but the environment was as warm and welcoming as the critics said.
Aaron chose it here; he must have liked it too.
I stepped inside and glanced at the massive restaurant hall, which had many people seated around. My eyes tried to find Aaron from where I stood, but I didn’t after a long visual scan. A young male attendant approached me with a bright smile on his face, and my attention settled on him.
“Good evening, and welcome to the Vanity restaurant. Would you like a table, or have you already ordered one?”
“I’m here to meet someone, Mr Aaron Hart,” I answered, and he nodded, knowing who I spoke about, and beckoned that I follow him.
I silently did, and he led me up the stairs to the executive floor, which had only a few people present. It also appeared well organised and provided maximum privacy compared to the outer hall.
I caught sight of Aaron on the right side of the room, holding the menu in his hand and reading through it. His attention was as keen as always, and his brows furrowed. He was now in a blue suit that would have complimented his eyes if it were daytime. His hair was in a neat ponytail, which brought out his broad, handsome face. It didn’t feel right that I wasn’t on the same page with him.
I spoke up to the attendant, saying, “I have seen him; I can make my way from here; thank you.”
He smiled and nodded before taking his leave.
I clutched my purse harder and guided my legs towards him. I reached the table where he sat, and I drew myself into the other empty chair to take my seat.
“You’re late.” He said it with a displeased tone as my butt touched the seat, forcing me to glance at my wristwatch to see that indeed it was five minutes later than the time he gave.
“I am here,” I grumbled under my breath, but he heard because his head lifted from the menu he read and his hard gaze rested on me.
I felt chills at his haughty stare, and I adjusted in my seat as if I had emptied a bucket of ice water on my head.
This wasn’t the side of Aaron I knew all those years. I knew the kind side, the gentle side, and so this side of him felt alien to me.
‘Well, you kept the existence of his son away from him for four years. If you’re honest with yourself, you’d admit you don’t deserve to see that side either.’
And I will keep paying for the choice I made for the rest of my life. What a horrible life!
I realised my response wasn’t the best either. He was right. I was late, and once again, I was in the wrong. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I would use that line tonight.
My apology was loud enough, but he behaved as if I had said nothing. His gaze returned to the menu in his hand, and after a while of me sitting at the table awkwardly, I spoke.
“I’m here, just like you requested.”
He placed the menu in his hand down on the table, and he folded his arms across his chest. “I want to know why.” He said this, his eyes levelling down on me.
I knew what he wanted to know; he wanted to know why I cut him out of the first four years of his son’s life. He wanted to know why I chose not to contact him after I found out I was pregnant with his baby five years ago.
I opened my mouth to reply with all the words I had rehearsed on the way down here, but none of those reasons came out of my mouth. After a few seconds, my mouth snapped shut, and my eyes dropped to the table.
I fidgeted with my fingers, contemplating the words to say. “I thought it was the best decision. There was no reason to involve you in my business.”
The last line must have triggered him, because his eyes flickered. “Except he isn’t just your business. He’s my son as much as he is yours, if not more.”
I stayed silent despite every fibre of my being wanting me to rebel and tell him his last line was a lie, but I bit down on my tongue. I didn’t want to upset this man; he seemed ready to bite off my head if the chance presented itself tonight.
“You denied me five years of being a part of his life. Now tell me why I shouldn’t take him away from you.”
There was no reason he shouldn’t, but I could not imagine a world without my son. It would be a dark and miserable one, and I would not survive or want to live in it.
“It was a weekend together. I thought nothing would come of it, but it did. Understand that there were a lot of things to consider. I barely knew you, and I had to decide all by myself.”
His teeth clenched at my words, and he shook his head. “You could have told me when we met at the fundraiser. You could have come out with the truth.”
“How did you want me to do that? Hello Aaron, I saw you come in today, but we have a son, and he came out from the weekend we spent together over five years ago. Was that what you wanted me to say?” I demanded.
“Yes, exactly like that.” His response showed he saw nothing wrong with it. “You had the last three weeks to come out with the truth, and you chose to keep it from me. There’s no excuse. That is on you.”
I drew a deep breath and rubbed my hand over my forehead. “Then I’m sorry about everything-for not telling you about your son-and if there’s a way to get on the same page about it, I want to hear it.”
He placed his hands down on the table, and my eyes caught the file sitting on the table before him beside the menu. My gaze immediately narrowed, wondering what it was.
“I want my son. I want to be a part of his life. I want him to get to know me, his father. I do not want to get the lawyers involved and take him away from you, and so I had this drafted.” He pushed the file towards me, and I picked it up and read through it.
It was a very detailed consent agreement in which I would sign over my rights to him. He didn’t want fifty per cent; he wanted eighty per cent.
I scoffed after reading through the terms stated in the document. He was pushing all the limits, and my back was already against the wall. “This is ridiculous.” I slammed the file on the table and shoved it away from me. I felt anger burn within my being, and I couldn’t control it.
“How?” he asked, as if he wasn’t there when this was drafted.
“You literally just want to take him from me.” I slammed, exhausted from trying to reason with him. It was obvious that it would never work. He wanted to make me pay for my shortcoming, and he was doing that. These terms didn’t appear to be made by someone who was being considerate; they appeared to be made by someone who was being an asshole!
He raised a challenging eyebrow at me. “Isn’t that what you have done for four years?”
“It’s not!” I insisted, “I didn’t know if you would accept him as yours or if you were just going to reject him!” He had his life planned out. He seems to have found completeness with the woman he was searching for then, and a baby would have disrupted that.
“You took that choice from me, and it was never your place to do that!” he snapped at me for the very first time.
I pressed my lips together and said, “And now you’re going to pay me back in kind.”
“That’s not what this is,” he argued.
My eyes grew glassy, but I blinked them back. My heart was breaking, and I couldn’t fathom the thought of losing my son to this man. “Then what is it? You’re making demands for more time than I will have with my son. This is cruel.”
“I do not deny you access to your son. He is still yours, and you can still see him.”
“Yes, but I’d have to get permission from you before doing everything. My son would no longer be mine but yours!”
“Because he is mine.”
I didn’t want to accept this offer; it was too cruel. A painful tear slid down my face, and it burned my skin. I quickly reached for it and wiped it off.
“You want to punish me; that’s all you want to do. You want to take him from me, but you don’t even know him or what he’s like.”
“And whose fault is that?”