Page 6 of Chill

“Cassian, you’re a child; I’m the adult—”

“Who clearly couldn’t take care of herself,” Cassian shot back.

I winced at his harsh words. Cassian wasn’t wrong.

“You’ve no idea what has gone on, so don’t pass judgment. Cass, I didn’t bring you up like that,” I scolded, and Cassian flinched. “I know you’re shocked, worried, scared even, and that’s okay. But I didn’t tell your father to do this to me. Gerard did this of his own choice. Do not victim-shame, Cassian!”

“Dad won’t talk to us. My teachers have contacted him, and Dad refuses to speak to them. Uncle Lyle said he’s an asshole but won’t interfere either. Dad won’t pick the phone up to me. The only time he did, Dad told me to deal with you. Doesn’t Dad want us?” Cassian asked forlornly.

Gerard had never been a hands-on parent. But he had attended games and school events. It paid to look like the perfect, happy family. He’s always beaten me where the marks wouldn’t show too. Cold precision planning—that summed Gerard up perfectly.

I didn’t know how to explain what was happening. It was clear the kids had realised some of it. Giving them the full, miserable, tragic story would hurt them. A mom’s job was to protect her kids, and here I was, proof that the world was cruel and those you loved could turn on you.

“How long have they been screwing?” Cassian demanded.

“Dad admitted about five years.”

Cassian sucked in a breath. “While you were pregnant with Poet?”

“Looks that way. Anyway, I’ve rented a house, nothing like we’re used to. I don’t have access to the bank. Your father’s blocked me for now. My lawyer is trying to get child support,” I said.

Gerard should at least be paying maintenance for the children. It didn’t matter that he no longer wanted them; they were his children. But again, Gerard’s lawyer was being a total asshole. Meanwhile, Gerard was losing his kids. He might not care now, but one day he would. I was sure Gerard loved them deep down. He didn’t want me anymore, but these were his flesh and blood. Surely that meant something.

“So, we wallow in poverty while he and that whore live it up?” Cassian asked.

“For now. But I have proof of the marital assets. Sooner or later, we’ll get our share,” I said.

“Then we make do. We’ll survive,” Cassian replied firmly.

Gerard may have money, but he’d never been one to spoil anybody—certainly not me or the kids. We lived as a normal family—apart from the big fuckin’ house. Thank God I didn’t have to deal with that anymore. Cassian didn’t shop in designer shops, and his phone was a couple of years old. Material things came and went, and he’d learned that the hard way.

“Dad can fuck himself,” Cassian spat hatefully.

“One day you might want a relationship with him…”

“Why? Dad’s a cheater, wife beater, and a deadbeat. Why the hell would I wish to know him?” he demanded.

“Gerard’s your father,” I said weakly.

“Nah. He’s a sperm donor. Nothing more. I ain’t bothered, Mom. It’s Poet and Zion that worry me.”

I was worried about Zion too; he tried so hard to gain Gerard’s approval. Poet had always been a mommy’s girl. She’d barely seen Gerard these past few years. I tried to smile, but my cracked lips hurt, and it came out as a grimace.

“When do you get out?” Cassian asked.

“They said tomorrow. I’ll head to the new house and organise the furniture. One of the nurses is going to bring the stuff over that I ordered,” I replied.

“Okay. Uncle Lyle will probably bring us tomorrow night.”

“Yup. That’s the plan.” I smiled, but it felt empty. Our whole lives were in upheaval, and I’d no idea which way to turn.

Chapter Two.

Chill – July 2023.

I lay there, trapped under the weight of the blast. Eyes staring at the grey sky as smoke drifted overhead. There was no pain, just the bright red and orange of fire, the smell of burned bodies. Somewhere, a man was at work, unaware war had broken out on American soil.

A child ran for his parents, arms outstretched and full of trust. A woman cooked for her family, with no idea blood was being shed. Here, there was murder, chaos, and death.