9
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He shamelessly stayed in my way, pleading, “Jocelyn, please forgive me. My mom’s in the hospital, unconscious. She’s paying for her mistakes, and everything’s a mess at home. I can’t do this without you…”
His voice droned on and drew stares from the crowd. I was disgusted; even now, with his mother in the hospital, he could call it karma. No wonder he hadn’t tried to stop Mr. Carter from hurting her. Eric was as selfish as they come, and if he could be this heartless toward his own mother, what would he do to me and Noah?
I finally had enough. “Finished yet? We’re divorced, and whatever’s happening with your family has nothing to do with me.”
All his sweet talk was a cover; he had no help at home now. That’s all this was, and listening to it was laughable.
Just as Noah’s teacher was leading him out, I turned to leave. But Eric suddenly dropped to his knees, tears in his eyes. “Jocelyn, please, I know I was wrong. My mom’s in the hospital with no one to care for her, and I have to work. I can’t handle this on my own. Come back, and I’ll put the house in your name…”
Unbothered by the people staring, I said loudly, “A marriage? The thought of the years with you makes me sick. What’s wrong? Missing your housekeeper? I have a life to live and a son to raise. You think I’d come back to take care of you and your mom? Keep dreaming.”
Humiliated, Eric dropped his head, saying nothing. Noah’s teacher brought him over, and I looked at Eric one last time. “Don’t bother us again, Eric. The words you threw at me? I’m throwing them back at you now. Oh, and remember, you have a real father out there. Maybe he’ll help you.”
Eric stood up, his face red with anger. “You!”
Ignoring him, I took Noah’s hand, hailed a cab, and left without a backward glance.
I made up my mind to leave the area with Noah and transfer him to a new preschool. Eric was bound to harass us again if we stayed. Sure enough, the calls came nonstop, along with pleading texts. He even showed up at my place, refusing to leave, crying, “Please, Jocelyn. I know I was wrong. Noah needs a father. Come back!”
Neighbors thought we’d had a marital spat and tried to mediate. “All couples have arguments; just give him a chance.”
I pushed Eric toward the neighbor and said, “Fine, take him! He’s all yours. We’re divorced. He’s not my husband anymore.”
Eric was all about saving face, and I’d made sure to strip him of it. Enraged, he started banging on my door. By the time the police arrived, he had a brick in his hand, seething, “Divorced or not, Noah’s still my son!”
I leaned in, smirking. “How would you know? You and Noah never had a paternity test, did you?”
He went completely rigid, staring at me in disbelief, just as the police escorted him away. On his way out, he yelled back, “Jocelyn Carter, you shameless woman! Tell me–is Noah my son or not?”
I didn’t answer, just gave him a meaningful smile. Later that night, I booked the soonest flight out of town for me and Noah. With Eric held on charges of harassment and vandalism, he wouldn’t be free for at least a week.
On the plane, Noah looked up at me. “Mom, where are we going?”
I brushed his hair back, smiling. “Somewhere no one can find us, sweetie. I’ll be with you. Don’t worry.”
He beamed. “I’m not scared!”
A little while later, he asked, “Mom, do I have a dad?”
I thought about it and replied gently, “Once you did. But now, you don’t.”
Noah didn’t press further, gazing quietly out the window as the city faded behind the clouds.
I remembered my last words to Eric, spoken in anger but now resonating with a finality. They would forever assume everyone else was as rotten as they were. Leaving him was the best choice I’d ever made.
And it was the justice they all deserved.
