Sasha happily watched Disney+ on my bed while I sat at my desk beside it. You better believe I googled Anthony Bridgerton's name a billion times. In a very rare twist for a modern millennial, he didn't have any social media accounts. Ok, maybe that's not so rare; I don't either. The TikTok app isn't even on my phone- hope that doesn't date me. No, I saw all those mindless things as distractions during my intense academic journey. And it worked! My laser-focused attention allowed me to graduate early; success! But I can't imagine why someone uber rich and young like Anthony wouldn't have any accounts online. It did make researching him personally a LOT harder.
Fortunately, his siblings all had accounts on various platforms. There appeared to be eight Bridgerton kids in total, which Sasha confirmed. Four boys and four girls. Anthony was the eldest and inherited the title of Viscount from his father. I began to understand that my future husband was some sort of titled man with a long family lineage in Britain. That really made me nervous…..
The first thing, or well the second thing, that stuck out to me was how well-educated Anthony was. As a boy he attended Eton Academy, then Oxford for undergrad. He finished with a Masters but didn't go any further in academia, it would seem. His degrees were in history and finance, but he didn't appear to have a job, or an ordinary nine-to-five job anyway. I guess he wouldn't, coming from a super wealthy family. He and I were just so different in that regard….. To be honest, I'm kinda surprised he'd ever want to marry someone like me at all. Our family doesn't have a spotless, criminal-free history, and we're- for lack of a better word- broke. Even Edwina and I don't talk anymore. We had this huge fight after I graduated from Masters back in Vancouver. I BEGGED her to get an education, not to dream of becoming what I suppose is called a "tradwife" today. Not that there's anything wrong with wanting to be a stay-at-home mom! Course not! My issue was that it was her ONLY plan, and that worried me. Why can't she be a wife and mother with a degree or backup career path, just in case? That's all I wanted for her.
Course she screamed at me, saying I was forcing my own ideals onto her. Then, after some nasty comments how no man will want to marry some old, PhD graduate with a ton of student debt, she moved to London; we haven't spoken since. I didn't even find out she was engaged until one of our mutual friends here in Toronto told me. The thought to call her about the arrival of my "new" son hadn't crossed my mind. I didn't think about Edwina once since Sasha got here, in fact.
I DID think about Anthony Bridgerton, however. His education was the second thing that caught my attention; the first was how utterly gorgeous he was. Seriously, this man was stunning! A living Adonis! They couldn't cast men like him in movies or tv shows because they'd have to pay him too much money. He's perfect; absolute perfection. Compared to him, I felt like a dried-up, old spinster.
Ok, maybe googling my future husband and baby-daddy was a mistake. The more I read about him, learned about him, the more insecure in myself I was beginning to feel. Like, this guy had everything- the world was literally at his feet. He could have any girl he wanted; it would be easy for him to find someone to marry. So then why…..? Why does he "settle" for somebody like me? Yes, yes; I know it's bad to think of yourself in that sort of way, but let's be real- it's true. Compared to him, I brought nothing to the table. I wasn't rich, had a sordid family history, came with no titles or assets. I didn't even see myself as beautiful as him. All I could really offer what the production of our son….. And at the expense of my life.
Pausing here, I twirled my chair around so to see Sasha once more. He was still watching 101 Dalmatians with a big grin on his face; he hadn't noticed that I was staring at him, studying his adorable face.
You know…. When I really look at him, I can see bits of Anthony present. The shape of his ears, the point of his nose, the structure of his chin. Yes, I see it; I'd dare say he looked more like his father than me. His hair was even curly like Anthony's. The only notable features he got from me are his skin colour and eyes….. He undoubtably had my eyes. Sasha was an amalgamation of us two, carrying parts of both of me and his dad… My cheeks started to sizzle as I continued to think about the implications. That means though….. At some point Anthony and I are going to….. We… My prudish face blushed as my lips pursed together.
That's when my son finally realized I'd been looking at him for over a minute now. He perked up and glanced my way. "Whatcha' lookin' at?" And I smiled, lowering my head a touch. "You." This pleased him as he crawled off the bed and came over to me, getting up onto my lap on the chair and turning to the laptop screen. His eyes widened somewhat as his forefinger pointed up.
"That's Dad!" Sasha referred to a photo of Anthony from his sister, Daphne's, Instagram page. "So it is," well I guess it's good to confirm that he's the right "Anthony Bridgerton" anyway. My son gazed up at me ponderingly. "When are we gonna go get him?" Uh oh… My grin instantly began to fade; I hadn't expected him to ask me that. I rubbed his back reassuringly as I tried to explain the situation as best I could to a pre-schooler.
"Uh, well you see, he's in London and we're in Toronto. Daddy and Mommy live in two separate countries. We can't just go see him." "Why not?" Sasha's eyebrow cocked. "Er, well…. Travelling abroad with a child isn't that straight forward. You don't have a passport." "What's a "passport"?" "Uh, it's like a special book that lets you go to other countries." "Can't we just make one?" He inquired so innocently, I almost laughed. "No, honey; we can't make one." "Well then let's buy one." "You can't buy one either. There're papers I need to get you one; papers I don't have."
Sasha thought for a moment, letting his cute brown eyes wander about pensively. "Why can't Dad just come here, then?" Hmmmmmm, that might be more feasible, so long as you don't consider the details. But I did, and had to sigh in defeat before glancing back at him. "Your father doesn't know about you yet. I doubt there's any way I can convince a Viscount to fly all the way to Canada just to meet us," ha, I bet he'd actually call the police on this "crazy lady" he's never met before claiming to have his son there with her. CPS might also get involved too….. No, there's no rational way I could think to convince him that Sasha REALLY was his biological son….. come here from the future just to meet his mother for the first time. This sort of thing happened in movies and badly written fanfictions, but not in real life. There's no way I could go down that route.
My son's face lit up again, his back arching. "Course Dad would come here! He loves us! He's always saying he'd give anything to see you again," he does? Awe! Ok, Anthony does genuinely fall in love with me….. for some unfathomable reason. I kept rubbing his back in a comforting motion. "I'm sure if Daddy knew the truth, he'd be on the next flight over. But I can't just call him up and tell him that we have a son together." "Why not? It's true." "W-Well yes, it's true… Or it WILL be true one day, but Daddy and I haven't met yet. He has no reason to believe me," hell, I'd think he's crazy if the case was reversed and he tried to tell me that a strange little boy was my child. I'd probably call the police, which is exactly what he would do I'd imagined…. But Sasha couldn't understand this, and I get why. He's never lived in a world where Anthony didn't love me, which is a thought that still sticks in my throat. He couldn't see why this devoted, loving man wouldn't want to come running to his wife if given the chance…. Oh Christ, how do I make him understand that's still true, and his perception of his father is genuine, while making him see that it WILL happen someday? It's true; it's just not the case right now.
But Sasha wasn't giving up, reaching out to grab hold of my hand tight in his. "Mom, I want both my parents. I want us to be a family. All I've ever had was a dad; I want my mom too." "I know, sweetheart, but it's not that simple. Even if we met now, it doesn't mean we'd fall in love right away; these things take time." Sasha's stare hardened a tiny bit. "I don't think you get it, Mom. Dad LOVES you; like he really, really loves you. He'd be soooooooo happy to see you again!" "But Sasha…" I started but he interrupted me with a firm shake of the head. "No! I want my family! It's my turn- I want my mom AND my dad. I've always wanted the three of us to spend time together, just like other families get to. Please, Mom; I really want this. Please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeease?" His tiny hands suddenly clasped together in a pleading motion. I could only stare down at my child…. God, I'm so in over my head with this whole parenting thing.
My hand caressed the side of his cheek, rubbing my thumb side-to-side on the skin. "Sasha, honey; we don't know how long you're going to be here for. You could go back to your own timeline tomorrow morning, as far as we know." "Nope! I'm going to stay here with you forever. That's the plan!" He announced with a firm shake of the head. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "We don't know that, honey." "I don't care! I wanna stay, and I want you AND Dad here together. Then I'll finally have my whole family, just like I always wanted."
Seeing that "conversation" wouldn't get me anywhere, I signed again and kissed my son on the forehead. He insisted that we cuddle on the bed while he finished his movie. Then I lent him one of my t-shirts to wear as pyjamas and I tugged him into bed- there was only one bed in my room. Thank goodness it was queen-sized. I carefully waited until he fell asleep before picking up my phone.
As far as I was concerned, a few outcomes could happen. One, Sasha could disappear at any time, and then I'd have to go to England on my own and scope out Anthony. Two, Sasha could stick around long enough for Anthony and I to meet, and then go back to his own time. Or three, he could very well never go back to his own timeline, and he'd really stay here for the rest of his life. The last option would solve the whole me-dying-in-childbirth problem, but it raised a whole host of new issues. He still didn't have any legal paperwork, after all…
Either way, I'd have to go to London sooner or later. Edwina's there with her new fiancé anyway; maybe we can reconcile while I'm there. In truth, I didn't expect Sasha to say around for very long, but just in case he did until Anthony and I met, I realized that keeping him here in Toronto with me and being a single mother wasn't the best idea. Well, it was from a legal perspective, but that wouldn't get the ball rolling, metaphorically speaking. I waited until I was sure Sasha was zonked out before unlocking my phone and making a call.
A call I never wanted to make again.
My finger tapped impatiently as it rang a few times. As it did so I tried to formulate in my head what I would say when he finally answered, which he did a few seconds later. An older, familiar male voice echoed from the other end.
"Where'd you get this number?" "Why haven't you changed it since Dad's funeral?" I shot back and the ex-convict growled, evidently irritated. "I told you never to call me unless it's an emergency." "It is. Look, my dad took the fall when the police raided YOUR compound. He also didn't spill on that little "accident" you had. You owe us Sharmas big time, and I'm calling in that favour." There was a brief pause on his side of the line. "What do you want?" His tone was low but compliant. "I need a government passport and birth certificate, and I need them asap." Another pause, shorter this time.
"I know someone who works at the service centre. Give me three days."