But I never heard from her again until now.
Present Day
“Why are you here, Kira? Why now?”
She held out the small, red box. “I was supposed to give this to you all those years ago, but my mother never sent it. Because of that, our lives changed forever. Please, open it now.”
I reached out and took the box from her.
With trembling fingers, I lifted the lid. Inside lay a folded letter, yellowed with age. And beneath it — my heart stopped — a pregnancy test.
A positive pregnancy test.
“Kira…” My voice cracked on her name.
Another wave of memories washed over me: stolen kisses between classes, summer afternoons by the lake… we’d given ourselves to each other, body and soul, in an abandoned cabin near the shore; a promise we thought would last forever.
“I found out after we moved,” she said, the words tumbling out like she’d held them back for too long. “I gave the box to my mother and begged her to send it to you. When I never heard back, I thought… I thought you didn’t want us.”
“Yes… that’s why I’m here now, Howard. The box was never sent. My mother kept it hidden. I only found it recently, going through her things in the attic.”
She wiped at her eyes. “I raised our baby alone, Howard. With my parents’ help. All these years, I believed you had abandoned us.”
The room spun around me. A baby. We’d had a baby.
“Did you…” My voice failed me. I tried again. “Did you have the baby?”
She nodded, a smile breaking through her tears. “A son. Our son.”
Continue reading…
