There was furniture, a brown couch, a small wooden table, a colorful rug on the floor. Toys, a red truck, some building blocks, stuffed animals. Someone was living in his house. Anger rushed through Nathan’s body like hot water. This was his house. Who would dare break in and live here? He walked to the front door and knocked. He heard sounds inside. Footsteps, light and careful, like someone trying to be quiet. The footsteps came closer.
The door opened just a crack, just enough for Nathan to see one eye, one side of a face. A woman’s face. “Can I help you?” she asked. Her voice was soft but scared. “Yes, you can help me by,” Nathan started to say angrily. But then the door opened a little wider. Nathan saw her face fully now, and every word died in his throat. Time stopped.
The world stopped. Everything stopped because he knew that face. He knew those warm brown eyes. He knew that small beauty mark near her left ear. He knew the way her eyebrows curved. He knew the tiny scar above her lip from when she fell off her bike as a kid. He knew everything about this face because he had loved it.
Because he had kissed it, because he had dreamed about it every single night for 8 years. Evelyn. The word came out as barely a whisper. The woman’s eyes went huge. Her face turned white as paper. Her hand gripped the door so hard her knuckles turned white. Nathan, she breathed. They stared at each other. Neither one could move. Neither one could breathe.
This was impossible. Completely impossible because Evelyn was dead. Nathan had gone to her funeral. He had watched them put her coffin in the ground. He had cried until he had no more tears left. But she was standing right here, right in front of him, alive, real breathing. You’re You’re dead, Nathan whispered. How are you? This can’t be.
Mom, who’s at the door? A small voice called from inside the house. Nathan’s heart nearly exploded. Mom. A little boy came running up behind Evelyn. He was small, maybe seven or eight years old. He had messy brown hair that stuck up in funny directions. He wore old jeans with holes in the knees and a blue t-shirt with a dinosaur on it.
The boy grabbed Evelyn’s hand and looked up at Nathan with curious eyes. green eyes, the exact same shade of green as Nathan’s eyes. Nathan felt like the ground was disappearing under his feet. The boy had his eyes, his nose, the same shape of his face, even the same way his left ear stuck out just a tiny bit more than his right.
“Mom, is this man bothering you?” the boy asked, trying to sound brave, even though he looked a little scared. Nathan couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Evelyn pulled the boy closer to her, protecting him. When she looked at Nathan now, there was no love in her eyes, only fear and anger. “You need to leave,” she said. Her voice was shaking.
“Right now, Evelyn, I don’t understand,” Nathan finally managed to say. “They told me you died. The police came to my office. They said there was an accident, a car fire. They said you were. I know what they told you,” Evelyn said coldly. “Now leave. You’re scaring my son.” “Your son?” Nathan’s voice cracked.
“Is he? Is he?” He couldn’t finish the question, but he didn’t need to. The answer was right there in the boy’s face, in those green eyes. “This is Lucas,” Evelyn said, her hand protectively on the boy’s shoulder. “And yes, before you ask, you have no rights here, no claim, no place in our lives.” “But I’m his,” Nathan started. “You’re nothing to him.” Evelyn said louder now. “You left us.
You believed what you were told and you walked away and you never looked back because I thought you were dead. Nathan shouted. Lucas started to cry. Mom, I’m scared. Make him go away. Evelyn picked up Lucas even though he was really too big to carry now. She held him tight against her chest. Go away, Nathan.
She said, tears running down her face now, too. We don’t need you. We’ve been fine without you. Just please go away. Evelyn, please just tell me what happened. Nathan begged. How are you alive? Where have you been? Why didn’t you go away? Evelyn screamed and she slammed the door in his face. Bang. Nathan stood on the porch staring at the closed door. His whole body was shaking.
His mind was spinning like a tornado. Evelyn was alive. He had a son. Nothing he believed was true. He raised his hand to knock again but stopped. Through the window, he could see Evelyn sitting on the couch holding Lucas, rocking him back and forth. She was crying. Lucas was crying. Nathan lowered his hand.
Slowly, like a man in a dream, he walked back to the car. “Everything okay, Mr. Cole?” Mr. Peterson asked when Nathan got in. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Nathan stared at the house. At the light glowing in the window, at the shadow of Evelyn and the boy, his boy moving inside.
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