We went to breakfast one morning.
It was such a lovely day. We sat across from him, this man that I did not know, a stranger but of some importance. For he pulled the strings that held my husband to his job.
So I smiled and I made polite chit chat. Filler talk about mundane subjects of no importance. Things that he brought up, things that he seemed interested in.
Then we discussed more personal issues, where we were from and so on.
And he asked because so stupidly like a dog chasing its own tail, I asked first.
"How many children do you have?" He had 4.
It was there bursting forth from deep within the chasm of my soul. The words rolled up within my throat, my tongue poised to form the letters, my throat moved with the sounds..."we have two".
Two boys, I said. I swallowed it back down like a gulp of water. It sat there in the pit of stomach for the entire meal, burning. Occasionally I could feel it start to make its way back up begging for release and I swallowed once again.
We showed photographs taking on our phones, I quickly scrolled to just the two boys, moving past the pictures that beckoned to be shown.
It was a pleasure and goodbyes were said. We walked to our car with smiles on our face for the meal had gone well.
The door closed and the dam broke and my heart wept as did every other part of me it seemed. All that I held inside poured out, I begged for his forgiveness telling him I am so sorry, so very sorry.
I was a coward and I could not say it, I couldn't stand the next step, the I am so sorry and the look of pity that would come. It hurts even more because the man knew, of course he knew, my husband had already told him when he had to request time off from work.
Oh if only I could do it again, I would proudly show my photos and tell him, "We have three boys, three amazingly beautiful children. One who has left us to soon but is still ours, still our child, still a part of our family".
I am sorry that I was weak and I am sorry that I couldn't save you in time. I miss you so much.