Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal)

by J. C. Reed

My tears are falling as I write this, and I have to be very careful not to stain the paper.

  You have a half brother. That’s when my parents could no longer deny the obvious. I was fifteen years old when they sent me to a monastery to bear my uncle’s child. I was left afraid and alone among strangers, so my parents’ rich friends wouldn’t find out. Among strangers I learned to feel safe until the day I was forced to give up my child.

  I prayed. I pleaded with them to allow me to keep my son, but nothing I said could make them see my pain. Even to this moment, I still think of him. I miss him every day. The three days I had him might not seem like a lot, but they were the best of my life, until I had you.

  In that short time I dared not sleep out of fear that I would miss a single moment with him.

  Giving him away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, much harder than the sexual abuse I had endured. After nine months of carrying him, I loved him more than I loved myself. I loved him and his innocence in spite of my hatred for the despiteful man who was his father. You don’t know how hard it is to give away a part of your heart until you experience it.

  I cannot state how many tears I have shed about my broken family, or how many times I thought of killing myself.

  As I’m writing this, my boy should be sixteen. He’s seven years older than you. By the time you get the letters, he’ll be almost thirty. The name I chose for him is Kaiden—Kaiden Stonefield—though his new parents might have changed his name.

  I don’t know where he’s living, but I can feel him in my heart. Like I can feel you in my heart. Two children, both linked by my blood and womb.

  I pray he’s with a good family. If I could tell him that I would never have given him away out of free will, I would. I would hate him to think his mother didn’t want him because she didn’t love him when the opposite is the truth.

  Having a real family has always been my dream. Ever since I was a child, I wanted to be a mother. When you were born, I was older, wiser. I knew you couldn’t replace Kaiden, but you filled a big hole in my heart that your brother had left behind.

  My God, Laurie. I was so happy when I held you in my arms the first time. You had the tiniest hands and feet. Born with the cord around your neck, the doctors were sure you would never breathe. But as I was holding you in my arms, my tears staining your little face, my fear that I would lose my next child paralyzing me, I whispered, “Breathe, Laurie, breathe for me.”

  And you did. You did it for me. And when you opened your eyes and looked at me, I knew I would love you forever. I knew I would never give you up, no matter what happened. That I would protect you with my life because you were my little girl.

  I was so afraid that the same history would repeat itself and what happened to me would happen to you. I could trust no one. It’s one of the reasons I married Clint. You needed a father figure. And I needed to get away from my family.

  Only a few people know what happened to me: my parents, Clint, your father. The truth was, my life was a complete lie to everyone else. I met your father when I was seventeen. He was my first friend. He was also my first love. He was also the first lie I told you. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me that I claimed we were married before he died. None of that is true.

  He isn’t who you think he is. He’s not an honorable man nor is he someone with a good heart. They were lies I told you to protect you from the truth. Lies I told myself to help me move on. When he got me pregnant, our parents insisted that we marry. When the day came, he ran off and left me behind. As a child, you wouldn’t have understood, but now that you’re older, I hope you can feel the heartbreak he caused me. Lies are not honorable, but sometimes when the truth is too painful and we have no choice, we have to lie. I think I mostly lied to myself and I got to a point where I began to believe my own lies.

  As far as I know, your father is still alive. I wish I could tell you that he loved you and wanted to see you, but the truth is he’s always been a coward who feared my father.

  I tried to contact him on many occasions. I told him about you. I sent him photos. But he never replied. In my heart, I wanted to believe he loved me for a long time, that something or someone held him back, but the truth is, he wasn’t in love with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought I was a rich, spoiled, and strange young woman. At some point, I even believed that my father paid him off to be my friend. That’s the downside of being rich—you never know if anyone ever likes you for who you are.

  Choose your friends carefully. Most of them will run when the going gets rough. Most of them would rather take the money than stick around. I can’t blame your father, though. He was younger than I was when I found out that I was pregnant with you. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He wanted to be a physician, study, travel the world, and that’s exactly what he achieved.

  If you decide to contact him, I have included everything about him below, though you should know that he is now married with children.

  I married Clint because I wanted to be loved rather than hurt. Even though I’ve never been in love with him, I’ve always respected him for who he is. Before we married, he chased me for years and taught me that I could rely on him.

  Now that you know my story, you will see that my life’s been a lie for a long time. I’ve been carrying too many secrets. The burden has become too heavy to bear.

  If you’re angry with me, please know, I still love you.

  I’ve decided that money should not define you. I don’t want you to be used. I don’t want people to hurt you or rob you blind just because you were born who you are. Your wealth won’t help you make many real friends and so I’ve decided to keep your rightful money away from you until you become the open-minded, independent individual with a fixed set of opinions I know you will be. Once that is achieved, my duty as your mother has been accomplished.

  My twenty-third birthday was an important year for me. It was the year I conceived you. It was the year I grew. It was the year I met Clint and we became friends. It was the year I realized that I’m responsible for my own life, that no one can hold me down. It’s also the year my parents asked me for forgiveness after my uncle died.

  While Clint is not the man I love, he is my safety net. He offered me a chance to get away from my family. He treated me well. He wanted to be your father. I don’t know many men who would have jumped in wholeheartedly at the idea of raising someone else’s child. Because my mind is deteriorating I have asked him to take over my business. I have asked him to take good care of you. And when I told him that I’d mention him in my Will, I made him promise that he would give you the estate once you were old enough.

  Whether he will keep his promise is a different matter. I would like to believe it, but honestly, my life has taught me that I cannot trust anyone.

  So I did something to protect you. I made a Last Will to overrule the previous one. You will find it in this letter.

  I feel bad for Clint. I feel bad for not trusting him, but it’s the only way to ensure I’ll be able to take care of you after my death. Until the day you inherit everything, Clint will be your legal guardian. If not him, then who else? I have no sisters or brothers. My father is still alive, but I would rather give you to Clint than to him. At least I know Clint will take good care of you.

  In my first will I’ll ask you to give up your inheritance, and for a very good reason. I want you to go to college and experience life like any other young woman out there. I want you to learn the value of friendship and happiness without the heavy burden that wealth brings with it. You shall receive everything when you’re old enough to make your own, wise decisions. While I know Clint loves me, I’m not naïve enough to trust that he’ll hold on to me forever. Someday he will move on, like your father did.

  I cannot take the risk that he will become greedy.

  My last Will and Testament that will be read upon my death will state that Clint gets everything, even though he and I have a verbal agreement that you’re to receive everyt
hing when you turn twenty-three regardless of who you’ve become. To make sure you find out about the existence of these letters, I’ve included a clause that requires you to be attached by the time you turn twenty-three years old. The reason is that I want you to be with someone who loves you for who you are rather than the money you’ll inherit.

  Should Clint break his promise to me, my last Will is inside this letter. It’s co-signed by Nurse Marla and our gardener. It’s the only copy I have and they are the only witnesses, so make sure you don’t lose it. I also have included their contact details below.

  Marla has always been good to me. She is also the closest I’ve ever come to having a real friend who hasn’t betrayed me. I’ve asked her to keep some things from me for you. Make sure to contact her. While she does not know about my past, she knows about my heartbreak that I’ve experienced at the hands of your father, and she understands what I have to do.

  No one is perfect, Laurie. No one can be completely faultless. Not I, not my parents, not my uncle, nor Clint. It’s part of being human. Important is what you do with your faults, and what you can live with. In the end, it’s your life and your decision what you make of it. My decision was to make sure that I did the opposite of what I experienced in life. I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because the hardest thing is yet to come.

  I know you will hate me for this. I would, too, but I have to do it, Laurie. It’s not your fault, nor Clint’s. It’s also not my father’s fault. Nor my mother’s. It’s my own. I’ve considered this for a long time now. Today, my thoughts are lucid. Today that I can speak clearly, I know I have to do it. I don’t want to die at the clinic, labeled a mentally ill person. I want to do it on my own terms, as someone who’s aware of what she does.

  Please forgive me.

  I cannot stand to see myself slipping away. My mind…it’s not what it used to be. On some days, I don’t recognize myself. Those days become more and more frequent. I wander off with absolutely no idea of who I am, where I lived, what I do. On those days, I forget to eat, I forget that I exist. On some days, I wake up with wounds I inflict upon myself. This is not a way to live. I do not want to forget. I want to live, and be in control of myself, and if I cannot be that way, I would rather die as long as I know you exist.

  Memory can be a precious thing, my daughter. I took it for granted, until I started to forget a little each day. The good memories were the first ones to go. I can feel it.

  The medication I take isn’t helping. It makes my nightmares worse. It keeps me stuck in the past. I’m telling Clint that I’m taking it, but the truth is, I haven’t for weeks. I do not want to burden him with the fact that my medication only lets me keep the bad memories inside my head. It’s like all my life has been nothing but bad memories, and maybe it’s the truth. But I cannot relive the past over and over again.

  My darling girl, I have so many regrets. Too many to count. One of them is not being able to experience the joy of seeing you grow up to become the wonderful woman I know you are now. To graduate. To fall in love. To start a family. Maybe even meet your half-brother.

  I’m sorry that I cannot help myself, make a small change, no matter how hard, just for you. I’m sorry that I have to do what I’m about to do. I’m sorry that I have to leave you.

  In spite of my weakness, I can tell you in all honesty that I’m proud of you as my child. I’ve always felt blessed to have you. You grew up so fast. Too fast. When I look at you, I see your father. You’re just as beautiful. But everything you have, everything you are, is because of me, your mother. Don’t cry as you read this letter. I have made peace with my life. I made peace a long time ago and have accepted things as they are.

  Both the past and the future.

  Even though I’m not with you right now, even though I cannot hold you and kiss you, please know that my heart will always be with you. Always. You’re my precious daughter. Ever since the day you were born, I promised to you I would do anything to protect you, to make sure they would not take you away from me, too.

  When you read this letter, I know that my life has passed and that my wishes were fulfilled. I went to great lengths to make sure that they were, so when you read this, I know my duty as your mother was well done and that I can be proud of you, of myself, of everything we are.

  The past might hold us, capture us, separate us in our minds, but these words will remain. And so will your presence and your future…it’s all within our control. Do not focus on the past. Remember me for the smiles we gifted each other and the moments we shared. I love you. Nothing can stop me from loving you no matter where I am. Even though our time together was short, I’m grateful for the moments we had. When you miss me, you’ll find me in your blood, in the beat of your heart, in the fact that I gave life to you.

  Remember me for who I was.

  Your mother

  Chapter 24

  “Surprise,” Jude yelled the moment I opened the door to our apartment. Behind her were a few of my college friends, neighbors and other people I knew holding a banner that read ‘Welcome home’. A huge chocolate cake with the inscription ‘Happy Belated Birthday’ beckoned to me from a table set up in the corner.

  “Oh, my God, Jude,” I mumbled as she dashed for me with a shriek. Her arms went around me, pressing me to her chest so hard I had no choice but to drop my suitcases and give in.

  I closed my eyes. Tears gathered in my eyes as her familiar scent hit my nostrils. In spite of her overprotectiveness and her tendency to make my business her own, she was the most amazing friend anyone could have.

  “Welcome home, Laurie.” Alice, Jude’s sister, drew me in into a tight hug, too. “Jude’s told us everything about your disaster.”

  “And by disaster you mean…” I shot Jude a glare.

  “Chase,” Alice replied.

  ‘You told her?” I asked Jude.

  “Not just her. She told us all,” someone from the crowd. It was Janice, our neighbor. I frowned as I stared at all the familiar faces.

  Did Jude invite the whole neighborhood?

  My gaze swept over the crowd to take everyone in. Half of them were unfamiliar faces. But then was it really such a surprise?

  Jude had always proclaimed that I deserved a big party for my twenty third birthday, not least to celebrate the fact that I’d receive my mother’s letters. I never believed her because I never thought it’d happen, but she had been right. She had made it happen.

  I stared at her in admiration.

  Jude shrugged. “I felt like I needed moral support.”

  I laughed. “Moral support?”

  “Yeah, you know, it was pretty hard to see your best friend falling in love for the first time and then realize she had been used.”

  “Which is why we’ve declared war. We’re going to make his life a living hell,” Alice chimed in.

  “You can count on us,” one of my neighbors said. “Give us his phone number and we’ll make sure he gets the prank calls of his life.”

  “Oh, God.” Laughing, I shook my head as I took the offered drink out of Alice’s hands. “Chase isn’t after the money. He’s actually trying to help me.”

  “He is?” Jude frowned and everyone grew silent.

  “And you’re not saying that because you’re under duress?” Alice asked.

  “What?” I laughed again, then shook my head. “No.”

  “So you guys worked everything out?” Jude asked. She sounded so sceptical I had to shake my head again.

  “No way.” I noticed how thin my voice sounded. “We’re actually getting a divorce.” I plastered a fake smile on my lips that I knew wouldn’t fool most people, and definitely not Jude. I expected to feel relief at the thought of Chase and me being over once and for all, but deep down, my heart lurched as realization dawned on me.

  I wasn’t going to see him again.

  Jude didn’t buy my smile, as expected. She knew me too well, or maybe she was too perceptive for her own good. With a sense of im
pending doom, I watched as she grabbed a spoon from a nearby table and knocked it against her wine glass.

  “Okay, guys,” she yelled, even though you could probably hear her voice from the street outside. “Would you mind giving us a few minutes? Or better yet, let’s meet at Freddy’s where the party’s starting. Woohoo.” She winked at me and ushered everyone out the door.

  Eventually, it was just Jude and I. The moment the door closed behind the last visitor, she drew me into a tight hug again.

  “I missed you,” she whispered, wiping a tear from her face. “I thought you said you’d be back home the day after our conversation.”

  “I couldn’t, Jude.” I let out a shaky breath, ready to drop the bomb. “I read the letters.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes fell on the pendant I wore around my neck. “Isn’t that your mom’s?”

  I nodded. “Chase gave it back. You were right. He had it repaired.”

  Her frown deepened.

  “What’s going on with you two?” she said. “What happened? Why couldn’t you tell me, Laurie?” Her eyes were soft, but there was that glint of accusation that always appeared when she suspected me of keeping secrets from her.

  I shook my head just as the tears I had been holding in began to stream down my face. “My mom.” I looked up and saw the compassion in her eyes. “Chase brought me her letters.”

  “What did they say?” Jude’s voice was feeble, her face pale.