HELENA’S POV
“France?” I echoed aloud, my heart drumming in my ears as I was yet to process Dante’s words and the fact he was already pulling me alongside with my luggage. He had whipped out his phone from his back pocket and was already barking orders at the phone.
“Captain, I need the private jet prepared and a flight to France. How long is that going to take?”
A pause as he waited for a response
“Perfect, I’ll see you then” he ended the call and was about to start pulling me with him when I retrieved my hands from his hold.
“What the hell Kyle, you can’t just go to France with the snap of your fingers”
“Yes I can and that’s exactly what’s happening” he looked confused at my surprise.
“You can’t just go to Paris and demand to see a son that you only just found out about. You can’t just show up and disrupt his life just like that, it’s not fair and I won’t allow you do that. I haven’t seen him with my eyes since I gave birth to him”
“Well this is an opportunity for you to see him” Dante said and he didn’t understand that he just couldn’t show up like that.
“Oh my God, the world doesn’t revolve around you Dante, don’t you get. He’s no longer your son, you lost the right to that the moment I put him up for adoption”
“Bullshit!” Dante yelled out in a frustrated manner “I don’t care about none of that, I want to see my son, even if I don’t have any bloody claims to him I just want to see him”
“And then what tell him you’re his father and then he jumps into your hands and all is well with the world? Can’t you see how incredibly selfish that is”
Silence stretched between us as we held each other stare with so much intensity that I felt the air zing.
“Fine” he breathed out “I won’t tell him I’m his father I just want to see him” the desperation in his voice was evident and it pulled at my hearstrings.
“I’ll have to call Antoinette, and let her know we’re paying a visit” I took out my phone and stalked to corner to dial her. I knew she’ll be elated to have us, just on the condition we don’t confuse Julien and all of that. I had the urge to tell him that she wouldn’t have us and she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of us just showing up like that but I knew how much it’d hurt it, dim out the lights in his eyes that had only just begun to show. He needed this, I knew he needed this so when Antoinette picked up the phone and I told her of our plans, she was more than elated, more than I’d expected her to be.
“She’s expecting us” I said to Dante after I had clicked off the call and fell in step with him “I told her everything, but you cannot let Julien know you’re his father”
Dante shrugged “If he’s really my son, I wouldn’t need to say a word. He’ll be smart enough to figure it out sooner or later”
Later on, we boarded the flight to Paris and the cold air hit my face the moment we stepped of the plane. I could already feel the tension brewing in the air again, buzzing around Dante and I knew he wouldn’t say anything but I could smell his nervousness from where I stood behind.
Soon we boarded a taxi and we were on our way to our son. We pulled up in front of a modest, typical French house, quaint and charming with faded shutters and ivy climbing the whitewashed walls. The garden was dotted with wildflowers and tiny birdhouses, and the scent of lavender wafted in the air. My pulse quickened as the front door opened, and there she was-Antoinette, her thin frame and delicate features wrapped in a casual, flowing blouse. Her long, blonde hair framed her face, and her smile was warm as she spotted me.
“Hi, Antoinette,” I said, pulling her into a hug, feeling her light frame enveloped in my arms. “It’s so nice to see you.”
“It’s been what? Five years?” she replied, her French accent lacing her words with a melodic warmth.
I nodded, turning to Dante, who stood beside me, silent and intense as he took her in with a slight frown. “This is my husband, Dante,” I introduced, my voice low. “I told you everything on the phone. He just wants to see him-nothing more.”
Antoinette studied him, her eyes holding a wary flicker as if weighing his intentions, but she finally offered a tight-lipped smile and nodded. “Right, come in,” she said, stepping aside to let us in. “Julien is in the playroom. We can go say hi.”
Dante and I shared a look, and for the briefest second, I saw something in his eyes-a hint of hesitation, a vulnerability that vanished almost as soon as it appeared. He exhaled softly and followed her into the house.
Antoinette led us through the cozy, inviting space, her apologies filling the air as she mentioned her husband was out on business. We soon stopped in front of a brightly painted door covered with cheerful animal stickers. She glanced at me, and I felt my breath hitch as she slowly pushed the door open.
Inside, Julien sat on the colorful rug, a curly-haired boy of five with big, curious eyes and a tiny smile playing on his lips as he stacked building blocks into a tower. His hair was a soft mix of dark curls, tumbling down around his round cheeks. The moment he saw Antoinette, his face lit up.
“Maman!” he squealed, abandoning his blocks and running into her arms. I felt a pang in my chest as she hugged him close, their bond an unspoken warmth that left me breathless. It could have been us, he could have been calling me mama.
After a moment, Julien turned to look at us, his small face tilted in confusion as his eyes moved from me to Dante. “Who are they?” he asked in an already smooth French accent.
“These are just Maman’s friends,” Antoinette replied softly, running her hand over his curls. “Say your greetings.”
“Bonjour,” he murmured timidly, his fingers clutching Antoinette’s skirt, his wide eyes uncertain as they peered up at us.
Dante and I froze, both of us caught in the spell of that tiny voice. For a moment, neither of us could find the words. My throat tightened as I watched the child whom I never gave the opportunity to be a part of our lives.
Then Julien’s gaze drifted to Dante, curiosity sparking in his innocent eyes. “Would you play blocks with me mister?”
Dante hesitated, a flash of confusion crossing his face. He glanced at Antoinette, who smiled gently and translated. Understanding dawned, and he crouched down, meeting Julien’s gaze.
“Uh… sure-of course. What do you have?” Dante said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
Julien’s smile grew, and he reached out, taking Dante’s hand and pulling him to the floor beside him, his tiny fingers wrapped around Dante’s much larger hand. My heart stilled, an ache rising so deep in my chest I thought it might tear me apart. Watching them together-Dante, with his guarded expression softening just slightly as he listened to Julien explain the rules of his game, and Julien, his eyes bright and happy as he showed off his block tower-I couldn’t take it. The sight was too much, every unspoken wish, every moment lost crashing over me all at once.
I felt tears prickling my eyes, blurring the edges of my vision. The emotions churned inside me, too fierce, too raw to ignore. Before I could catch my breath or ground myself, I turned and hurried out of the room.