The Bonus

I walk back into the house and peer through the window to see Gabriel get out of the car. It’s Thursday, he couldn’t even wait for the weekend.

He’s wearing a charcoal suit with not a hair out of place, chunky watch, and expensive shoes, he looks like a fish out of water here.

“He’s back,” Lucy says from her place beside me.

“You be nice,” I tell her. I glance back to Dominic. “You use your manners today, please.”

He stays silent.

“Dominic, do you understand me? Best behavior today.”

He nods.

We all watch from our place from the window as Gabriel walks up the front stairs, and I open the door before he knocks.

“Hello.”

“Hello.” He nods, his eyes find the children behind me and he stares at them for a beat.

I step back to grant him access. “Come in.”

He walks past me into the house, and Dom and Lucy look up at him as if he’s an alien.

Gabriel looks around our quaint little house and is quiet, for the first time in history I get the feeling he is lost for words.

That makes two of us.

“Please meet…” My voice trails off and I put my hands on Lucy’s shoulders. “This is Lucia.” I present her to him. “Lucia, this is my friend, Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s eyes flick to me in question, and I give a subtle shrug. I have no idea how to introduce him.

“Hello,” Gabriel says to her.

Lucy stands at his feet and looks up at him. “You’re very big.”

“Tall,” I correct her.

“You’re very small,” he replies.

“Lucas Marks calls me a mouse because I’m so small,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Well…” His eyebrows flick up as if surprised. “You tell Lucas Marks that he has big ears.”

What?

“This is Dominic.” I cut them off. “Dom, this is Gabriel.”

“Hi,” Dom says without so much as a glance.

Gabriel’s jaw ticks as he stares at him, clearly annoyed by his rude behavior.

Fuck.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I ask to change the subject.

Gabriel’s eyes come back to me. “Yes,” he replies.

“Why don’t you guys go outside and play before dinner?” I fake a smile; everything is great here. Nothing to see. Happy, happy, happy.

“I don’t want to go outside,” Dom replies.

Gabriel’s unimpressed eyes flick over to him.

“Go upstairs then, sweetie.” I widen my eyes at him. Not now, fucker.

Dom stomps up the stairs as if I’m a major inconvenience.

This damn kid will be the death of me.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last six years, it’s that sleeping with a dominant man may be hot, but raising one as your son is a lot less desirable.

Lucy stands at Gabriel’s feet as she continues to look up at him. “Why are you wearing that?”

“Wearing what?” he asks.

“That…” She gestures to his clothes.

“My suit?”

She nods with a goofy smile. “It’s funny.”

“You never saw a suit before?” He frowns.

Help.

“Upstairs, sweetie.” I cut her off. Please stop telling him how uncultured we are. “Mommy has grown-up things to discuss with Gabriel.”

I glance over at him to see that his face is cold and expressionless.

Take the offer, Lucy, trust me…upstairs is a much better option.

She skips upstairs and the room falls silent, ugh… Don’t leave me alone with him.

Gabriel sinks into a chair at the dining table and I flick on the coffee machine.

Shit…I search my mind for the next thing to say.

I glance over my shoulder to see him looking around my house, I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. Everything in his world is opulent and over-the-top luxury and this is a little log cabin on the lake where everything is homemade. Even our cushions on the couch are crocheted, not that I like them. Mavis down the road makes me all kinds of ugly shit. The kids think her creations are marvelous and who am I to be a grinch.

I put Gabriel’s coffee down on the table and take a seat beside him.

“So…” I shrug.

“So…”

“You.” I swallow the bucket of sand in my throat. “I’m assuming the results are back.”

“Yes.” His eyes hold mine. “How were you so sure?”

“Because I don’t sleep around, and you know that.”

He rolls his lips and remains silent.

“So what happens now?”

He sips his coffee and winces. “Ugh. What is this fucking shit?”

“Coffee, Gabriel.”

“Christ almighty, you still make the worst fucking cup of coffee.” He pushes his cup forward. “That’s inedible.”

“You drink it, not eat it,” I snap.

He raises an eyebrow as a silent warning, and I widen my eyes back. “Don’t.”

“Don’t you.”

God, this is never going to work.

We fall silent for a while.

Finally, I ask him what I need to know. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to make the arrangements.”

Arrangements?

“For what?”

“You’re going to have to move back to New York.”

“Sorry…?”

“I’m very busy with a lot on and I don’t have time to be coming out here.”

What?

“Of course I will cover the costs and get you a nice place, the movers will pack for you and everything will be taken care of.”

I stare at him as I have an out-of-body experience.

“I was thinking of my penthouse in Park Avenue, you may decorate it however you wish, I suppose.” He thinks for a moment. “But I want to get a say on the interior designer you choose.”

I blink in surprise. “No.”

“What about my terrace in Manhattan, then? I thought you may prefer that one, it is only four bedrooms, though, and it doesn’t have as good a view.” He thinks for a moment. “And the commute to my place will take longer in peak hour traffic. No…I think I would prefer you in Park Avenue, it’s a two-story penthouse, it’s a lot bigger and closer to my place.”

“I’m not moving anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“The kids’ lives are here. Their friends and school are here.” I shrug. “I’m not moving them anywhere.”

“Yes. You are.”

“No. I’m not.” I feel my temper begin to rise. “You can’t just barge in here and demand that I move back to New York. You have no say in where we live.”

He narrows his eyes. “I want and will be taking fifty percent custody of my children. With or without your permission.”

“Your children?” I cross my arms as my temper prepares to blow. “That’s a joke, right?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he whispers angrily. “I have the paperwork to prove it.”

“You made it very clear the night they were conceived that it was a seminal transfer.”

His eyes flicker with fury.

“You are a sperm donor and nothing more.”

“How fucking dare you,” he hisses. “You walk into my office late at night after a Christmas party and seduce me on my desk. Strategically fall pregnant. Carry my child in secret for nine months, give birth to not one but two of my children and never once call to let me know.” He stands. “Who the fucking hell do you think you are kidding with this Pollyanna act. And while we are at it, how dare you name my son Dominic?”

“What did you want me to call him?”

“Gabriel.”

“I know a Gabriel, and it turned me off the name.”

“You can talk, you’re a deceiving witch who is using my children as a weapon against me.”

“Get out.”

“No.”

“Get the fuck out,” I whisper angrily. “We don’t want you here.”

“They don’t even know me.”

“And that’s how it should stay. Go home to your fiancée, Gabriel. Start again, have a million Italian babies with her.”

He glares at me. “I’m organizing the move.”

“Go to hell.”

“You want to do this?” He raises an eyebrow. “You really want to push me, because I can go for full custody if that suits you better.”

“And there it is,” I whisper angrily. “I knew it was coming. Get the fuck out right now.”

“You cannot stop me from seeing them.”

“I never said I was. If you want to build a relationship with them, you come here to do it. You are the adult; you are the one who needs to make the effort. You have a private jet, for fuck’s sake, you can fly in whenever you want.”

“I want them closer.”

“Get to know them first.”

“If you live in New York, you can come back here every weekend.”

“What?” I explode. “Can you even hear yourself? You have absolutely no interest in these children and their well-being. Let me get this straight, you want them to live in New York through the week and come back here on the weekends?”

“Yes.”

“But you work fourteen-hour days through the week.”

He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off.

“And at the time when you could actually spend some quality time with them on the weekends, you want to pack them up and send them back here to get out of your hair.”

“That isn’t how it is.”

“That’s exactly how it is.” I march to the door and open it. “Get out.”

Gabriel

My blood boils, the audacity of this woman.

“You need to think long and hard about this, Gabriel.”

“Think about what, exactly, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you decide you want to be a father, it’s a full-time job. Every sporting match, every dance practice. Every vomiting bug and cold, every damn meltdown. You do not get to pick and choose what you are present for in their lives. I will not have my children pine for their absent workaholic father.” She shrugs.

“And then what happens when you have more children and you have even less time?” She throws her hands up in the air. “You want to move them away from all of their friends and then your new bride gets pregnant and you and her are super busy doing baby things and she doesn’t want them around…what happens to them then?”

My heart drops.

“It’s all…or nothing, Gabriel.”

I stare at her for a beat, and her demeanor changes from aggressive to empathetic.

“Look, I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go, me neither, but it happened, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you back then, but I was only trying to protect them.”

“From their own father?” I gasp.

“You need to go home and really think about this,” she says sadly. “And if you decide that this is all too hard, I understand. I get it, I really do.” She shrugs. “Everybody will be none the wiser, and when the children are old enough to understand the dynamics, we can tell them together then.”

I stare at her for a beat.

“You’re not the bad guy here, Gabriel, I know I did the wrong thing by not telling you, but I was scared and alone and it hasn’t been easy. I’ve cried myself to sleep more times than I can count, but I have put their needs first every single time, and you coming here with your selfish demands, wanting to upend their entire lives so that you don’t feel like a failure, is just not going to cut it. They deserve better than a half-assed father with a point to prove.”

I get a lump in my throat.

“Do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Because in the eyes of your family and to the rest of the world, they are and always will be the illegitimate children who were conceived on your desk late one night with your PA. They will never fit into your life, Gabriel, don’t you see?” Her eyes well with tears. “I don’t want them to feel like second-class citizens, and if they go to New York…that’s exactly how it will be. Your family will never accept them. They will always be Gabriel Ferrara’s bastard children.”

My heart sinks.

“If you want them in your life, and I really hope you do, you need to immerse yourself in their world and build a relationship with them. I cannot allow them into yours until I know for certain that their hearts are safe.”

I clench my jaw.

“Gabriel, you need to understand, money means nothing to them. They don’t care what your job is or who you are, they just want their dad to love them, they just want a normal dad to love them back. They’re happy now, they aren’t constantly waiting for a visit from their dad because I know that once we tell them, they will be. They will want your attention all the time. Parenthood isn’t a part-time job. If you can’t be an engaged and present father, then for god’s sake for once in your life put someone else’s needs before your own, do the right thing by them and stay away.”

Her silhouette blurs, and I quickly turn toward the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

I walk down the stairs and out to my car.

That is not how I expected that to go. I sit in the car for a moment while I collect my thoughts.

“For once in your life put someone else’s needs before your own, do the right thing by them and stay away.”

She’s right, I really do need to think about this.

I’m being selfish.

On autopilot, I start the car and pull out onto the road. I glance back at the house as it disappears in the rearview mirror.

Fuck.

I didn’t even say goodbye to them.

I lie in the darkness and watch the shadows change on the ceiling.

Sleep…the elusive dream, I’m a walking zombie.

I haven’t slept in days.

Ariana is asleep beside me, oblivious to everything. Physically, I’m here with her, but the rest of me is not, it’s hovering somewhere over Greenville in Maine.

Gracie’s words keep going over and over in my head… For once in your life put someone else’s needs before your own, do the right thing by them and stay away.

I know she’s right. This isn’t about me; this is about my children and what’s best for them, and I know that I have to leave them be. I can’t be who they need, and it kills me.

I work so much that I’m hardly present in my own life. How can I be present for two small children who live on the other side of the country?

I have two choices: stay away and abandon my children but keep Ariana or…start a new way of life that involves living between here and Greenville with my children.

Grace…

One moment I’m thinking with my head and staying away and marrying Ariana.

And then like clockwork, my mind returns to Maine… With her. I see a vision of Lucy and Dominic, dark hair, olive skin.

They look like me.

I imagine them at a school concert with no father there to cheer them on, and it brings me such a deep sense of sadness.

Does it affect them?

Grace says it doesn’t, but it would have to, if not now then down the track most definitely. I know the situation is impossible, Grace won’t move to New York and I can’t leave.

Grace is right and I should stay away.

They won’t care, they never knew me anyway…the thought of that breaks my heart.

I get a lump in my throat at the situation I find myself in. I feel so cheated.

I’m at a cross roads in my life, and whatever road I choose to go down…I will miss something on the other side.

“I don’t give a fuck what he’s asking, pay it. Get me that fucking story,” I snap as I turn the corner in my car. My eyes flick up to Mark, who is following in the car behind me. I’m so wound up that I can’t even sit in the car with him.

Driving is the only thing I seem to be able to control.

“He won’t do an interview; he’s declined to talk to anyone.”

“Do not insult my intelligence, I’m sure Miles Media is in negotiations with him right now. Get the fucking story.” I hit end of call and come to a stop at a pedestrian crossing.

Fucking incompetence, I’m sick to death of it.

An old lady walks at a snail’s pace across the road. “Hurry up, old bag.”

Another lady crosses, and then another. I exhale heavily. “Come the fuck on, what are we waiting for?”

And then I see it…my heart stops.

A man walks out onto street, holding the hands of his two children. They’re dressed in uniform, he must be walking them to school. They’re chatting and talking as they walk, oblivious to everyone around them.

What are they talking about?

The father says something and the children both laugh and my stomach twists. I watch them keep walking, wondering what school they go to.

Beep, beep. A car horn sounds from behind me, bringing me back to the moment.

I glance up to my rearview mirror and glare at the driver behind me. “Shut the fuck up before I hurt you.”

Grace

I sip my coffee as I stare into space. The last week has been a blur, firstly shock and horror that Gabriel found us, and then devastation as my worst fears came true.

He came, he met them, and when I purposely pushed to see how committed he was, he left without a fight.

He doesn’t want to be in their lives, and I know I should be grateful that he’s at least being honest, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.

I’m sad for the kids, it was one thing when he didn’t know they existed, but now that he does… How will I explain this to them when they are older?

What a fool.

These two children are a gift, and how he doesn’t want to be a part of their life is beyond me.

I put my head into my hands. Maybe everything he said about me is true. Maybe I am the world’s most selfish person. He thinks I kept them a secret out of spite…

Did I?

No, I kept it a secret to protect them…if he can’t see that, then screw him.

We owe him nothing anyway, and there’s no more wondering what if.

At least now I know.

Friday night.

I empty the jar of sauce into the pasta as I stare into space. Lucy is watching television in the living room and Dom is upstairs somewhere.

I’ve had a shitty day, got abused by an asshole work client whose loan application got declined and it kind of spiraled from there. I came home, had a shower and immediately opened a bottle of wine. There are some benefits to being the only adult living here, I get to do whatever the hell I want to…as long as it doesn’t involve leaving the house.

“Mom, someone’s at the door,” Lucia calls.

“Who is it?” I frown, ugh…who the hell is coming over at this hour?

“I don’t know,” she calls, uninterested, and returns to watching her show.

I flick my tea towel over my shoulder and walk through the house and open the front door in a rush. Cold dark eyes meet mine. “Gabriel.”

Oh no.

“Hello.” We stare at each other for a beat.

“What are . . .”

“I’m here to see my children.” He cuts me off as he walks past me into the house. “Stay out of my way.”