Twisted Reality
I could barely breathe.
Panic had my chest tight, and my thoughts were scrambled.
Larry was gone—just gone—and I had no idea where he was.
My hands trembled as I dialed the police, hoping—praying—that they could help me find him.
The officer on the other end answered, but all I could hear was rapid French. I blinked, trying to make sense of it, but the words were coming too fast, and nothing was sticking.
“I-I’m looking for my son!” I stammered, clutching the phone tighter. “Please, he’s missing. He’s seven years old, and I don’t know where he is.”
More French, faster this time.
The officer was clearly trying to help, but I couldn’t understand a word of it. Laura sat beside me, tears streaming down her face, her small hands gripping the edge of her chair as she sobbed.
I was trying to hold it together for her sake, but I was losing it.
Fast.
“I don’t speak French!” I yelled into the phone, feeling a hot tear slip down my cheek. “English! English, please!”
But the officer kept going, the French growing more complicated, more frustrating, until I snapped.
“I don’t fucking speak French!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “English!”
The officer’s voice faltered, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I hung up, throwing the phone down on the table and pressing my hands to my face, trying to breathe, trying to think.
“Where is he?” I muttered, pacing the room, my mind running through a hundred worst-case scenarios. “Where is he?”
“Mummy…” Laura whimpered, her voice trembling. I pulled her into a hug, smoothing her hair with shaky hands.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, trying to sound calm. “We’re going to find him. I promise.”
Just as I was about to lose it completely, my phone rang again. I snatched it up, my hands trembling as I pressed it to my ear. “Hello? Larry?!”
“Mummy?” came his small voice on the other end.
I nearly collapsed with relief. “Oh, thank God,” I breathed, my legs weak beneath me. “Thank fucking God. Larry, where are you? Are you okay? What were you thinking?”
“I’m fine,” Larry said quickly, his voice steady. “I’m at the hotel.”
I clutched my chest, trying to slow my heartbeat. “What hotel? Which one?”
“The one you told us about earlier, near the big tower.”
I ran a hand through my hair, still shaking. “Okay, okay. Stay right there. Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.” I turned to Laura, who was still wiping her eyes. “Laura, stay here, alright? Do not open the door for anyone, okay? Not until I get back.”
She nodded, sniffling. “Okay, Mummy.”
I kissed her forehead and grabbed my bag, rushing out of the room. I flagged down the first taxi I saw, nearly throwing myself into the backseat. “Hotel Le Meurice,” I muttered, my voice breathless. “Please, fast.”
The drive felt like an eternity. My mind was racing with everything that could have happened to Larry, but I pushed the thoughts down. I needed to focus. The moment the taxi pulled up to the hotel, I jumped out, not even waiting for change, and rushed inside.
And there he was. Standing in the middle of the lobby, looking completely calm—too calm for what he’d just done. As soon as he saw me, he ran up, his small arms wrapping around my waist.
I hugged him tightly, sinking to my knees. “Oh, Larry,” I whispered, trying not to cry again. “Don’t you ever do that again. Ever. You scared me half to death.”
“I’m sorry, Mummy,” he said quietly, hugging me back.
I pulled away, gripping his shoulders. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this was? You’re in a country that’s not your own! Anything could have happened!”
He nodded, looking genuinely sorry. “I just... I thought I could help.”
“Help?” I shook my head, standing up. “We’ll talk about this later, Larry. For now, we need to get you back to the hotel.”
Before I could take a step, something shifted in the air. I glanced up and saw men—guards—moving toward the entrances of the hotel, blocking off the doors. My heart dropped.
I turned quickly, pulling Larry behind me, my instincts kicking in. “Larry, stay close.”
And then I saw him.
Rowan Vaughn, stepping through the doors, his commanding presence freezing the entire room. His dark eyes swept across the lobby, searching, until they landed on me.
He stopped in his tracks.
“Remi?” His voice was low, but it made my heart skip a beat.
For a moment, all I could do was stare back at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I hadn’t seen him since he punched Asher.
And I liked it that way. Out of sight. Out of mind.
And now here he was, standing in front of me, looking just as shocked as I felt.
My grip on Larry tightened, my mind reeling. This wasn’t how I wanted him to find out.
Rowan stood there, staring at me, his expression unreadable. He looked as if he was trying to place me—like he knew me but couldn’t quite remember how or why.
His brow furrowed as his gaze shifted from me to Larry, then back to me.
"Wait..." he said slowly, his voice thick with confusion. "Is he... your son?"
I felt the air leave my lungs, and I gulped, trying to keep myself steady. My heart pounded in my chest, and for a moment, I thought I wouldn’t be able to answer him. But Larry looked up at me, his small hand clutching mine, his eyes wide and innocent, unaware of the bombshell waiting to drop.
“Yes,” I whispered, nodding slowly. “He’s my son.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed, his confusion deepening. “Your son?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “But... you never mentioned him before. I mean... I never knew you had children.”
The words hit me like a slap, reminding me of the twisted reality we were in.
He didn’t remember.
He had no idea who I truly was to him—who I had been to him.
To Rowan, I was just the surgeon who had saved his life. He didn’t know the years of history between us. Didn’t know the pain, the betrayal, the marriage he’d once dismissed as nothing more than a mistake.
I nodded slowly, swallowing hard, my mouth dry. “Yes. I... I didn’t think it was relevant. it is my personal life after all. ”
He nodded slowly.
Rowan’s gaze flicked to Larry again, as if piecing things together in his head. “And his father?”
I felt my throat tighten. I had no idea how to navigate this. How could I possibly explain without tearing open every wound from the past? Every memory I had spent years burying?
“He’s—” I started, but my words faltered as I saw Callum out of the corner of my eye. He was standing a few feet behind Rowan, watching me intently. He remembered. I could see it in his face. Callum had known who I was the second he walked into the room, but he was silent.
The Vaughn family had made sure of that.
They had kept everything about me quiet.
The charity case girl their son had once married—a marriage that had been swept under the rug, like it was a dirty secret, like I was a dirty secret.
And now, standing here in front of Rowan,
I felt like that girl all over again.
Callum gave me a subtle nod, as if silently telling me he wouldn’t say a word.
His eyes met mine, filled with recognition, but he kept his mouth shut.
Rowan, still oblivious, waited for me to answer, his confusion mounting. He didn’t know. He was the only one in this room who had no idea who I truly was. The only one who didn’t remember the disaster that had been our marriage.
I sucked in a shaky breath and forced myself to speak. “His father is... gone.” I bit my lip, the lie slipping out before I could stop it. “He died.”
Rowan’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of sympathy crossing his face. “I’m... I’m sorry to hear that.” He hesitated, and I could see the gears in his head turning, trying to fit the pieces together. “But... he looks—” He paused, staring at Larry, and then back at me, suspicion creeping into his eyes.
I stiffened, forcing a smile, though my stomach churned. “He just takes after me.”
The tension between us was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like the entire hotel lobby had gone still.
Rowan’s gaze lingered on Larry a second too long, and I could almost see the questions forming in his mind. He didn’t know, but his instincts were telling him there was more to this story than I was letting on.
Before Rowan could say anything else, Larry tugged on my hand, looking up at me with a nervous smile. “Mummy, are we going home now?”
I looked down at him, my heart aching. “Soon, sweetheart,” I whispered. “Very soon.”
Rowan was still staring, his confusion and suspicion deepening by the second. Callum stayed quiet, watching from the sidelines, but I knew he wouldn’t interfere. The Vaughn family had made sure to hush up everything that had happened between me and Rowan, and Callum was part of that silence.
Rowan took a step forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Remi... are you sure there’s nothing else you need to tell me?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, as I shook my head. “No. Nothing else.”
The truth was buried, just like it had been for years. And Rowan, the man who had once been my husband, stood in front of me, not remembering a single thing about our past.
Not knowing that the little boy standing next to me was his son.
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