Say Those Three Little Words

The sun began its descend into the UK horizon, throwing translucent hues of pink and orange across the sky. Ian Sykes watched this scene unfold in front of him from atop a park bench, his mind full of thoughts and his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.

The wind swept through the park, blowing hair in his face and rattling the swings, causing the chains to intertwine. The clink of metal resounded through the evening air.

It would've been a beautiful, picturesque scene, one full of tranquility, had there not been scornful and plotting thoughts in Ian’s head. He scowled, pulling one hand out of his pocket, a folded sheet of paper in his grasp. He unfolded it slowly, the neat handwriting blurring as red hot rage raced through him.

After the divorce was finalized, Carol had written a letter and left it in the pocket of his messenger bag the day of their court date. That bag was discarded into the closet of his apartment as soon as he got home, where it rested and collected dust until last week. Ian was on the search for something — now the male couldn't remember what — when he discovered the letter.

As soon as he read it, he rushed over to his former home, prepared to give the woman a piece of his mind. What he did not expect, however, was the bloody ‘for sale’ sign.

When the first outburst of rage subsided, he reread the letter.

Ian -

Since this will be the last time we see each other, I have a confession to make. Although it pains me to admit it, because I still fully believe that we’d be able to work out our issues and get back together, I haven’t been exactly faithful our entire relationship.

When Oli was about 18 months old, I left him with my mother and went to a pub. I was stressed out from taking care of the baby by myself (you were on a business trip), and I just wanted to relax a little bit. Anyway, I ended up getting more intoxicated than I had planned and met this guy.

His name was James. James and I talked for a good few hours, and we ended up walking to his place together… I bet you could figure out the rest. I managed to get his number the next morning.

A few days later I began feeling sick so I went and got a pregnancy test. It was positive, and I managed to fool you into thinking it was yours. I apologize for that.

Fast forward a year. Tom was 3 months old, Oli two years. My mother wanted to spend time with the toddler so she took Oli to the park. I used that time for James to see his son.

What I didn't know until he arrived was that he was high. I tried to get him to leave, to come again when he was sober, but he refused and pushed me out of the way.

For the sake of my sanity, I’ll spare you the details. All you need to know is that Tom did not fall off the couch. James killed him.

He’s in jail now. Don’t know when he’ll be out, but I don’t particularly care. Going to the pub that day and letting him come around afterwards were two of the biggest mistakes of my life, and I’ll regret them until the day I die. I’m still haunted by Tom’s memory, and some days I feel like I can hear him. Crazy as it sounds, since he couldn't talk… but I could feel him asking me why I let his father kill him.

I felt — and still feel — absolutely horrible. I felt like I didn't deserve an ounce of happiness and that Oli should've been taken away from me as well. But, by the grace of God, he wasn't. I’m so grateful. He is truly my only source of happiness, the only thing that keeps me going these days.

No apologies could make up for what happened that day. I’m aware of that. I’m hoping you could eventually find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m sorry.

-Carol

Angry and desperate tears stung at his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. For 20 years he was unaware of the truth. 20 years he was plagued with the thought of his son’s death just to find out that Tom wasn't his actual son.

He didn't even think about his ex-wife until he found the letter, and now she wouldn't leave his mind. “Crazy, lying bitch,” He muttered, getting up and strolling to the park entrance. The sky was mostly dark now. “Tommy is fucking dead because of you.”

He stuffed the letter back into his pocket and looked up, taking a deep breath. He stood there for a few moments before recollecting himself and returning to his apartment.

He was going to find that woman even if it was the last thing he did. No love was felt for either her or their child, so he didn't have a problem with unveiling the truth to Oliver and watch as their whole world crumbles apart.

He hates her. He hates them. But most of all, he hates how they’re inadvertently tearing his heart to shreds.



Unaware of the grave future that awaits him and stuck in his own blissful existence, Oli cradled the teen in his arms, swaying their bodies back and forth to imaginary music. They were standing in the middle of the kitchen on a Monday morning, just wasting time before they had to go to school.

Josh still hasn't revealed what Hannah did, but Oli planned to wait for him until he was ready. Even if the curiosity became too much to handle, even if he felt like tearing his hair out, he would be patient. He felt like he owed Josh that much.

“I really don’t want to go back to that bloody building.” Josh muttered, moving his arms from Oli’s shoulders to around his neck.

Oli clucked his tongue. “Me neither, but probably for entirely different reasons.”

Josh hummed in response, listening to the distant click of a minute hand moving through an analog clock. Oli checked the time on the digital above the stove and sighed, unwrapping himself from Josh and grabbing the teenager’s backpack.

Josh groaned and draped the bag over his shoulder.

They walked to school with their hands clasped together, not letting go even when they got to the building and eventually the classroom. The last minute bell was ringing when they walked in, earning a stern look from Oli’s mother. He grinned at her.

Lightly kissing a blushing Josh on the cheek, he released his hand and moved to his usual spot by the teacher’s desk. Abigal was shooting daggers in his direction.

“Alright, class.” His mother said. She demanded attention, and ever since day one, it has been given to her. Whether it was out of fear or respect, Oli didn’t know. “You will be working in pairs for the next two weeks on a history project.”

No one dared groaning, although several rolled their eyes. Oli guessed fear.

Abigal raised her hand. “Do we get to choose our partners?” She turned and looked pointedly at Josh as she asked the question, who ignored her. Oli bit his tongue.

“No.” His mother said sternly. “Because of your mental conditions and overall personalities, most of you would not work well with certain people.” She picked up a note card and studied it, making sure that the pairings she picked the night before were still appropriate.

Satisfied, she began reading off the names. As she read them, the students moved around the room to sit with their partners. Oli only paid attention to Josh, watching as he sat next to a surprisingly sober Travis.

Travis looked up and lifted his head in acknowledgment. Josh smiled. “You’re sober today. Good job, Lee.”

The other male snorted, fidgeting with his lip ring. “Sure. Don’t get too used to it, Franceschi. I’m getting some more of my fix tomorrow.”

“Sure you are.” Josh shrugged. “Hopefully you can do your half of the project before you use it, because if I have to do this myself, it won’t be a very pleasant day for you.”

“ Today isn’t a very pleasant day for me. I’m hungover as hell and my head is killing me.” He sighed, looking over at Oli, who was in deep conversation with his mother. “You two dating?”

Josh’s cheeks burned, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. Travis laughed softly, patting him on the back. “It’s cool man. Ya’ll make a cute couple, I guess.”

“It’s a shame you’re drunk most of the time.” Josh commented, not realizing what he was saying. “You seem to be a pretty cool dude. That’s saying something, because I usually hate everyone.”