Lucas' POV
Owen's little feet pattered on the hardwood floor as he dashed into the study, his small chest rising and falling rapidly to catch your breath. I hardly had time to look up before he skidded to a halt in front of my desk, breathing hard.
"Daddy," he said, his voice trembling. I could see the tears rolling down his blue eyes. "Who's my mummy?"
I froze.
The question came out of nowhere, my mind went blank. My hand stilled and I dropped the pen I was holding in my hands. For a moment, I just stared at him, unsure how to respond. I wondered where he got that idea from. Linda had stepped into the role of mum perfectly for him that I never thought he'd feel this way. He even calls her mum, so where did the question come out from?
"Where did you—" Before I could say anything, Linda came rushing into the room, her cheeks pink from chasing after him. "Owen!" she called, breathless but with a smile on her face. She bent down, her hands on her knees, and smiled at him. "You can't just run off like that. You scared me!"
Owen sniffled, wiping his eyes with his tiny fists but staying glued to the spot, his gaze locked on me.
"What's going on?" I asked Linda, my voice sharper than a blade. I don't joke when it comes to Owen. I looked at her sharply, then back at Owen, who was still standing there, his lip trembling. "Why is he asking about his mum? You are his mum."
Linda straightened, brushing her hair out of her face. She glanced between me and Owen, her smile faltering slightly. "Well," she started hesitantly, "I thought it might be a good idea to… you know, explain things to him. It's better if he understands early, isn't it?"
Her words made something snap inside me. I pushed back my chair and stood, the legs scraping against the floor.
"That's not your decision," I said firmly, my tone sharp. "That's not your place, neither is it your responsibility."
Linda's face flushed slightly, and she bit her lip. "I was just trying to help, Lucas," she said softly, her tone carrying remorse.
I ignored her, focusing on Owen instead. His big, watery eyes stayed fixed on me, waiting for something. For answers. I knelt down and held out my arms. "Come here, buddy."
He moved forward and climbed into my arms. As soon as his head rested against my shoulder, I felt him relax, his small hands weakly wrapping around my neck.
"Owen," I said quietly, smoothing his curls with my hand. "You don't have to worry about that, okay? I'm your mother and your father. I've got you, and that's all you need."
"But…" His voice cracked, and he looked up at me, his cheeks streaked with tears. "I don't have a mum."
The ache in my chest grew, but I forced myself to stay steady. "If you ever feel like you need a mum," I said gently, "Linda's here for you too. Right, Linda?"
I glanced at her briefly, and she gave a small nod, her features tightening but I didn't ponder on it. "That's right Owen, I'm still your mother." She said but this time, I couldn't sense the usual sincerity she once had.
"See?" I said, pulling him closer. "You've got more people looking out for you than you even realize."
Owen sniffled again, his tears slowing, and nodded against my shoulder.
"Alright, let's go get you ready for school," I said, lifting him up and heading toward the door. I didn't look back at Linda, but I could feel her eyes on us as we left.
That night, after a tiring and long day, I finally fell onto my bed. My head hit the pillow, and I could feel the knots in my body begin to loosen up for the first time all day. The house was now silent, with Owen sound asleep in his room.
I had just started to drift off when I heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," I mumbled, not bothering to lift my head.
The door creaked open, and I heard Linda's soft footsteps. She walked into the room, stopping near the bed.
"Lucas," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
"What is it?" I asked slightly irritated, my eyes still closed.
She hesitated for a moment. I could hear her fidgeting with her gown. "I wanted to apologize about earlier," she said finally. "I didn't mean to upset you or overstep. I just thought maybe it would help Owen to understand sooner rather than later."
I opened my eyes and let out a deep sigh. I sat up slightly, propping my head against the headboard. "Are you tired of playing Owen's mum? Because he's not your real son?" I asked coldly.
"No no…" Linda hurriedly waved her hand to dismiss my claims. "I love Owen like he's my own son even if I've never birthed a child before."
"Then never make decisions like that without speaking to me, if you really care about Owen, follow the plans I set out for him strictly, are we clear?"
"I understand," she said softly.
"Good. We'll talk tomorrow, work was hectic today." I said and laid back down on the bed in an attempt to resume my slumber.
For a second, I thought she was going to leave but I felt her prescence even after a few minutes.
I turned towards her, irked by her presence. She probably saw the irritation on my face because she began biting with her lips and fidgeting with her clothes.
"What?" I asked, my voice sharper than I meant it to be.
She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine. "There's something I need to tell you."
I frowned, sitting up straighter. "What is it?"
She hesitated again, and for a moment, I thought she might back out. But then she exhaled, "I want to have a baby. Your baby."