Falling For The Biker - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Sierra's POV
There were a lot of things I expected when I asked that question, but it was never what Jackson said. Shelly was in love with Arthur? And she was ready to pose as a friend to Yvonne, who wanted to be his fiancée.
“When did you find out about this?” I asked.
“A long time ago,” Jackson's voice was flat as he leaned back on the couch.
“And you still dated her?”
“I loved her. And when I asked her out, she accepted. I thought she would forgo her love for him. She might not have cheated with him, but she did with others,” he explained.
“You never doubted any of them?”
“Arthur, yes. Shelly, no,”
I didn't have to ask for him to explain as he did so. “Arthur never entertains any lady who pleases his parents. If he did, he was never aware. Shelly was quite forward about it, scrapping her off any chance,” he said.
“What do you plan to do to her?” I asked.
Jackson stayed quiet for a minute, then smiled. “She'll find out soon enough,” he said.
“Is this a revenge for me or yourself?” I teased.
“Nobody said I cannot kill two birds with one stone,” he said.
The next morning, I left the house with Elvis to visit the amusement park. We hadn't spent a one and one time together since we returned, and I knew this was the perfect opportunity.
Our routine was not hard to follow, as it was the same as the park back in the city, but that wasn't what made me happy. It was the smile on my son's face. “Again!” he skipped with excitement, heading back to the line to join the ride again.
However, halfway through all we needed to do, his smile and excitement vanished. I thought he hated some of the activities, but it lingered. He dragged his feet when we were headed for another activity and barely spoke to me.
Later, we headed for the arcade to play some games. Elvis loved it, but he wasn't excited. I paused and squatted, evening our height. Holding his face, I checked his temperature with my palm.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” I asked, worry lines on my forehead.
He hummed with a simple nod. “Do you not want to play the games? Should we change the routine? Maybe the shows? I heard there would be a fireworks show,” I smiled, hoping to get him to smile, but that didn't work.
“Sweetie, are you hurt somewhere?” I checked his body.
Elvis was fond of hiding his injuries from me, but I didn't see any injuries on him. I took him to a nearby bench, and we both took a seat. “Are my ideas lame? You wanted to do something different, right?” I asked, stroking his head gently.
Elvis shook his head. “I just don't want you to stay with me,” he said, and my heart dropped.
I made him turn to face me. “Why? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, baby,” I said, hoping that would ease him.
We always spent time together and not once had he said something like that to me. It hurts more than anything. “No, Mommy, you didn't do anything,” he said.
As much as that was meant to alleviate my fears, it didn't. “Then why don't you want me with you?” I asked.
“You always cry, Mommy,” he said. “Whenever you take me to the park, you cry. Do you hate me, Mommy?”
“No, no, baby,” I said, pulling him into a hug.
My eyes stung with tears as I understood what he was talking about. I sniffled back my tears before pulling him away, gently. “Mommy, loves you, okay? She doesn't cry because she hates you. I love you a lot,” I tried to reassure him.
“Mommy, what would happen if you hate me?” He asked.
I shook my head, hugging him. “I could never hate you, sweetie. You are my child, and you mean a lot to me,” I told him.
“But Daddy always yells at you when you spend time with me, and you cry and daddy hits you,” Elvis sniffled.
I hugged him once again, stroking his head as I remembered what he was talking about. Vance hit me once. It was a slap that was very much expected. He didn't hit me over the years, but always threatened to.
I tried once to stand up for myself, tell him he didn't have to be mean, and I took Elvis out of the house because of how much Elvis loved to, but Vance wasn't having it.
Why? We returned home later than 5 pm and his dinner wasn't ready. No matter how much I explained, it ended up being sucked back into me with a slap. At the time, I thought we were quiet enough and Elvis didn't hear any of it.
But I was wrong. He did. And now, even though it has been 4 years since it happened, it was still on his mind. Unfortunately, we had to return home after a quick snack.
He seemed better as we rode back home, but no matter how much I smiled, my heart still ached. Despite Elvis seeing that incident, I didn't leave. It took me four more years and, for the most shallow reason, to finally leave.
Back in the house, I pressed a kiss on his forehead and let him run upstairs. “You don't look good. Did something happen?” Mum asked as she joined me in the living room.
I sighed, plopping on the couch. “I've hurt Elvis and I don't know how to fix it,” I said.
“How so?” Mum asked, and I explained all that happened.
“Am I truly a bad Mum? I know I should have left, but I just thought it would all go away,” I sobbed and Mum pulled me in, running her palm on my back.
“You aren't a bad mother,” she pulled away. “You just thought you were doing the right thing. Maybe Elvis wants you to live your life outside of him. You've almost surrounded your life around him, and he might feel guilty,” Mum explained.
“And I caused it,” I mumbled.
Mum smiled. “What you should be worried about is how to fix it, and the first step is to fix yourself. Heal and then, you might help Elvis,”
Heal? I thought I was better since I left — maybe not completely. But how could I fix myself?
A thought flashed through my mind. It felt like a huge mistake, but what was the worst that could happen?