Once
Chapter Two
"Every past used to be a future… once upon a time."
The Past
BPOV
I cried when Mike put the paternity test and the divorce papers on the table in front of me.
They weren't really tears of sadness or guilt, rather tears from the emotional relief I felt that it was finally over. Our marriage had been a sham for years; I knew it and I think subconsciously Mike knew it, too. We barely communicated, had no friends in common, and slept in separate rooms for over three years.
I knew Mike blamed me for what he perceived as the failures in his life-plans. Plans that he had formulated when he was only fourteen years old, and had obstinately adhered to without considering any modifications, through high school and into college; even though we both matured and changed as we grew older. The idea that I might want something else rather what he had planned for me never entered his mind.
I also knew that he probably did love me at one time. I had certainly loved him in that adolescent first-crush, puppy-love way that we all experience in junior high. Most people grow out of that attraction; they recognize it for what it is… infatuation. Mike never did, instead it became an obsession – a fantasy with me in the center of it.
And I had gone along with it. Even when I began to chafe at the restrictions his fantasy bound me in, I accepted his plans, his wants, his dreams. I accepted them because I needed them… desperately.
Although Charlie was never physically abusive, he was emotionally distant and in many instances, verbally abusive. When I took over the household chores at eleven years old, it wasn't because I wanted to do them, or even knew how to do them; but I had been told to make my "lazy" self useful if I wanted a roof over my head. While kids my age spent their time playing baseball, or swimming, or hanging out at the mall with friends, I spent my summer days washing and ironing, learning how to cook without burning myself, and scrubbing toilets. The ever present threat that he might actually kick me out of the house "like my slut of a mother" hung over my head like a threatening cloud. So frightened was I, that it was years before I realized it was an empty threat and one that would have severely impacted his job and his standing in our small community.
So, I needed Mike and his family and his plans. They represented security, safety, love and most of all the acceptance I so desperately craved.
They were good people.
Upstanding citizens who took part in the community, attended church, were active in school and charity causes, they represented everything I thought I wanted in my future.
They were the Cleavers; the perfect family with the well-kept cottage home, the white picket fence, and the rose garden. It wasn't just show either, they were genuinely decent people. But more importantly, they loved me – for me – of that I had no doubt, and I loved them in return. Karen Newton was one of the most loving, caring women I had ever known. She was the mother I never had, the nurturing, supporting female influence I needed in my life. The pain this divorce and the truth about Riley would cause them, was one of the reasons I had kept my secret for so long.
I didn't set out to deceive Mike or his parents about Riley's parentage. When I first realized I was pregnant, I was sure it was Mike's child. I debated telling him about the possibility that I was pregnant by someone else, but I couldn't see any benefit in confessing my indiscretion. If the child were Mike's, then knowing I had been unfaithful would have caused hurt and pain to people I loved and cared about. Living with the secret I carried and the guilt because of it, would be the punishment I thought I deserved.
I told myself if it became apparent that Mike was not the father of my baby, then I would tell him the truth; but the birth had been so traumatic. Riley needed care – lots of it, and I could barely take care of myself. I clung to the lifeline Mike and his family provided, knowing that I would receive only disdain and a door slammed in my face, if I sought help from my father. The old fear of being homeless reared its ugly head, and with a sick infant it was a threat I just could not risk.
By the time Riley and I finally recovered our health, it was too late. Mike and his family loved Riley, and Riley loved them. I hoped it would be enough.
It was because of that love that I hesitated to discuss ending our marriage with Mike. I had already consulted a lawyer, trying to get enough information to help me make some kind of decision. I assumed we would sit down together and discuss our problems like adults. Perhaps we could come to a mutually acceptable solution. That option flew out the door when Mike laid those papers in front of me. He didn't ask how I felt, or what I wanted, or even what had happened so many years ago. For all he knew, I could have been raped. None of that mattered to him.
—O—
My tears dried quickly as I scanned over the divorce papers. The more I read, the angrier I became. He had listed the grounds as 'adultery.' The fact that we weren't married or even engaged when I became pregnant didn't seem to make a difference. I had to wonder what he told his lawyer.
He did not ask for visitation rights with Riley. In fact, he expressly denied any financial or custodial obligations for the boy he had raised. Other than that, the rest of the settlement was fairly straight forward. We didn't have many assets. Our furniture was old, mostly hand-me-downs from his parents and grandparents. Both cars were well-used and not worth much. Despite both of us having decent paying jobs, we still lived in a rented apartment. Mike had always refused to consider buying a house, and I had never pushed him. We did have a substantial savings account that I kept a close watch on and knew I was entitled to half.
The divorce went quickly. After the grounds were changed to "irretrievable breakdown" I agreed to everything else that he specified. Riley wasn't his biological son and he didn't want him. Ten years of caring, of nurturing, of father and son bonding with a young boy who loved him, meant nothing to Mike. When he turned his back and walked out the front door, he killed any feelings of respect or gratitude I might have had for him.
I packed our clothes, our personal belongings, took half the money and my son, and left town.
I was ready to make my own decisions and plans.
I was ready to be happy.
.
.
.
AN: Thank you for reading. I've enjoyed your reviews and I thank you for sharing your thoughts. As many of you guessed (De Perry and Pam Jacob!) Mike Newton was the "good boy" not Edward. Although, as much as we all love him, Edward was a "bit" controlling and obsessive and ignored Bella's wishes more than once, so he could have fit this part very nicely. But, you know, I just couldn't do that to our favorite couple! lol Besides, this let me have my own little 'secret.' Please excuse any mistakes, they are all mine.