Ex-Husband, Back Off
The next time I saw Chase Reed, it was at a little guesthouse in the Rockies.
I'd just finished feeding my son breakfast and was wiping his mouth when Chase came out from the kitchen carrying a tray.
Our eyes met. I saw his pupils dilate in shock.
Three years had passed. His skin was weathered and reddened from the sun, his face covered in stubble, with new lines etched around his eyes from the harsh elements.
Then his gaze landed on my son. He froze mid-step, his eyes going wide with disbelief before flooding with joy.
He hurried over, his eyes locked on my little boy.
"Sweetheart... can you say 'Daddy'?"
I lowered my head, turned sideways, and pulled my son protectively into my arms.
Three years ago, when I was five months pregnant, Chase had felt trapped. He decided to hit the road with his buddy — a female friend — and bike across the Rockies. He told me to cut off all contact and give him three years of freedom.
From that day on, I cut everything about him out of my life.
Including our child.