Chapter 5
This bastard is trying to poison my son’s mind against me!
I gaze upon Logan with eyes filled with a burning hatred.
“That’s not true! Mom would never do that, right, Mom?”
Chel appears at the front door of her house wearing a fuzzy robe. I shift my gaze from her to Az, and then I promptly bend down so that I am at eye level with him. “Buddy, we can talk about this at home. Let’s head there now,” I say as I extend my hand to him, signaling for him to hold it.
Az takes a small step back, still holding Logan’s hand. “Mom, tell me this is a lie!”
“Of course, it’s okay for your dad to be around. He’s just joking,” I utter those words, feeling defeated.
Az looks in Chel’s direction, which is relatively close to him, before shifting his attention upwards to Logan. “Then let’s go home together, Dad!”
Logan lets out a loud sigh. “Az, obey your mother. I’m still busy here.”
The weight of Logan’s harsh tone is evident as Az hangs his head, displaying a defeated expression similar to my own. “Okay,” he says quietly with a small voice.
“Come on, buddy,” I say, clutching his small, delicate hand tightly. “I’m going to make those cookies you like so much, just for you to enjoy!” I smile at him even though my heart is shattered.
He does not answer for a moment, but then he gives me a defeated nod. My angel affectionately wraps his arms around his father before we make our way towards the car, where I open the door for him.
Even after driving for ten minutes towards our dodgy neighborhood, the vivid images of Logan and Chel together refuse to leave my mind, along with the triumphant expression on Logan’s face as I climb into the car.
Az didn’t utter a single word to me the entire way.
🐺 🐺 🐺
“Mom, is Elizabeth already cleaned up?” Az approaches the bathroom door and looks down at me, kneeling while diligently cleaning the toilet. “Do you need help?”
Over the past few days, he has been inquiring about Logan, but I have been purposely avoiding the topic.
The point is that I don’t want to live with Logan anymore, but I also don’t want to obtain a legal divorce. Whether I like it or not, I need that bastard. I need his last name so no one can find me.
“No, buddy, I got this,” I say and then flush the toilet. “She must be dry by now,” I wash my hands and head to the kitchen window to retrieve Az’s doll, which is hanging there.
Elizabeth is Az’s beloved toy, the one he had since he was three years old. While he has owned other toys, she has always remained his favorite.
I couldn’t afford to buy him a bunch of toys, and Az was never the type of child to make requests.
To be honest, there are moments when I get the impression that no matter how hard I try to conceal it, he is perceptive enough to recognize my lack of financial resources, which may explain why he never asks for anything.
However, when he laid his eyes on this adorable doll at the fair where I was volunteering to raise money for homeless people, he begged me to buy it.
He spent quite some time trying to come up with a name for her, but ever since then, he has held onto his old doll tightly, showing no signs of letting her go.
Some children have pacifiers, and others have a small comfort blanket. Az has Elizabeth.
His attachment to his precious doll is so strong that he strictly forbids anyone from laying a finger on her, and every now and then, he asks me if he can discreetly keep her in his school backpack just so he can hold her hand inside when he’s feeling lonely. I hate that other kids exclude him so much, so I always let him have her.
It has always bothered Logan that Az had this deep bond with Elizabeth, which he despised. That’s why Az always hides her, so Logan can’t see.
Checking for dryness, I touch the doll’s brown eyes to ensure she is fully dried. “She’s perfect!” I say after taking two pieces of lint from the doll and handing her to him.
“Thanks, Mom,” Az says with a toothy smile on his face.
I gently stroke his light blonde hair, the same color as my own hair, although I dye mine black.
Az heads to his room at the same time the doorbell rings.
He stops on the way and looks at me with a bigger smile. “That must be Dad!” He happily rushes towards the door, but I think he realizes halfway that he is still holding Elizabeth in his hand because he halts and turns back to his room.
The last time Logan came to get his clothes, he dramatically left his apartment key, as if I didn’t know he had secretly taken the spare key.
I stand on my tiptoes and peek through the door’s peephole, only to find out it’s Chel. My ex-best friend.
I sigh loudly. Fuck! What is this bitch doing here?
Chel is donning a classy dress that, I’m sure, costs enough to pay two months’ rent for this apartment.
I look at my tattered t-shirt, which was Logan’s.
Fuck. My. Life!
It is not a good time to see her.
Chel knocks harder on the door and yells, “Open the door, Alicent! I know you’re there!”
I mutter a curse. “What do you want?”
“Open the door! Alicent! It’s dangerous to stay here in this dirty hallway! I don’t want to catch HPV or something from just standing in this place!” Chel says, looking suspiciously from side to side. The bitch looks really scared. I almost laugh.
I open the door abruptly with a frown. “What do you want?” I ask from between gritted teeth.
Chel rolls her shoulders back and directs a menacing smile my way, sporting a perfect shade of brown lipstick.
She opens her purse, still on her shoulder, and retrieves a magazine featuring the beautiful model Kelly Williams on its cover. Chelsea opens the magazine and yanks out some papers, then aggressively shoves them at me. “Here are the divorce documents. Logan requires you to sign them right now! As you can see on this other page, in this statement, he’s explicitly demanding you to stop using his last name immediately!”
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