Chapter 27 27
It was finally the weekend.
Blair tied her hair up, grabbed Maverick’s backpack, and tried to steady her breathing.
Today she promised him the park. And ice cream.
He’d been talking about it all week.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
If only I had ignored you that night…
If only I never looked into those sleepy eyes… maybe my life would be normal now.
A single tear escaped. She quickly brushed it away before it could fall further.
“Mommy?”
She turned fast.
Maverick stood by the door, small hands clutching his toy car, eyes bright with excitement.
“Can we go now?” he asked, smiling the way only he could — the smile that made her heart twist and soften at the same time.
Blair forced a smile back, even though her chest felt heavy.
“Yeah, baby,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”
She grabbed his hand, holding it tight… like he was the only anchor she had left.
Maverick held his ice cream with both hands, but his eyes kept drifting… watching other kids ride on their fathers’ shoulders, fathers tying shoelaces, fathers pushing swings.
Blair felt it.
She always did.
He tugged her sleeve gently.
“Mommy… why don’t I have a daddy like them?”
Her throat tightened.
Not again.
She forced a small smile and pretended she didn’t hear him.
“Finish your ice cream before it melts, okay?” she said, brushing crumbs off his cheek.
But Maverick stepped in front of her, blocking her path like a determined little soldier.
“Mommy,” he repeated, voice softer this time, “where is my daddy? Did he go somewhere?”
A sharp sting hit her chest. She looked away, pretending to tie the strap of his backpack so he wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes.
“Mave… let’s just enjoy the park, alright?” she whispered.
But he wasn’t convinced.
He looked around again — all those dads laughing and lifting their kids — and his little shoulders fell.
Blair swallowed hard.
She wanted to tell him something. Anything.
But the truth was a wound she wasn’t ready to touch.
So she held his hand tighter and walked him to the swings, forcing a bright voice.
“Come on, baby. Higher swing today. Like you love.”
And Maverick nodded slowly…
but his eyes were still searching the crowds.
Blair was pushing Maverick gently on the swing when a small voice carried from the slide nearby.
A little girl from Maverick’s school — pink dress, glitter shoes — tugged her father’s hand and pointed straight at Mave.
“Daddy, look at that kid,” she giggled loudly.
“He doesn’t have a daddy.”
Maverick froze mid-swing.
The chains stopped rattling.
His feet dragged against the sand as he slowly looked down.
Blair’s hand tightened around the swing bar. Her stomach dropped.
The girl’s father shushed her quickly, embarrassed.
“Hey, don’t say things like that,” he whispered.
But Maverick had already heard it.
Already felt it.
His lower lip trembled, and he whispered without lifting his head:
“Mommy… is it true?”
Blair knelt in front of him, heart cracking as she wiped his face.
“Mave… sweetheart—”
But he pulled back softly, confusion clouding his small eyes.
“Why don’t I have one?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.
Blair blinked fast, fighting the burn in her throat.
Because what was she supposed to say?
That his father didn’t even know he existed?
That she had spent five years running from the one man she was terrified of ever seeing again?
Her voice failed her.
All she could do was wrap her arms around him, holding him tight as the other kids kept playing — world moving on while her son’s heart quietly cracked in her hands.
Blair tried to settle Maverick after the comment, but she could feel him pulling away from her hug, stiff and upset.
“Mave, do you want to go get ice cream now?” she asked gently, hoping to brighten him up.
But he didn’t answer.
He just wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and stared at the ground, jaw clenched the same way Lucas did when he was trying not to cry.
Blair’s chest pinched.
She reached for his hand — but Maverick stepped back.
“Let’s just go home,” he muttered.
Blair sighed softly and stood up, brushing sand off her jeans.
Her phone buzzed at that exact moment — a message from her landlady reminding her of unpaid bills.
She closed her eyes.
Not today. Please, not today.
She texted back quickly, biting her lip.
Just a little distraction. Just a few seconds.
And that’s all it took.
Because when she looked up…
Maverick was no longer beside her.
Her heart flipped.
“Maverick?” she called, turning left—then right.
He wasn’t near the swings.
He wasn’t at the ice cream stand.
He wasn’t anywhere she could see.
“Maverick!” Blair’s voice cracked as panic punched the air out of her lungs.
“Maverick!” Blair ran to the path, breath shaking, eyes darting everywhere.
“Maverick, baby, where are you?”
Nothing.
Just people walking, kids laughing, music from the ice cream truck—normal life happening while her heart was falling out of her chest.
She grabbed the arm of a passing woman.
“Please—sorry—have you seen a boy? Curly hair, brown eyes, this tall?” Blair’s hand trembled as she gestured his height.
The woman blinked, confused. “Um… I—I’m not sure, sorry.”
Blair forced a smile and rushed to the next person.
“Excuse me! Have you seen a little boy? Curly hair, brown eyes, white shirt—he ran off—”
“No, I haven’t,” the man said, shaking his head.
Blair’s breath stopped .
She moved from family to family, her voice getting thinner, more desperate each time.
“Please, my son—have you seen him?”
“He was just right here—he was right next to me—”
“He’s six, curly hair—brown—please!”
People tried to help, looking around, but nobody had seen him.
Blair’s vision blurred. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped her phone.
Maverick, where are you?
Her legs felt weak as she rushed toward the park exit, scanning every corner, every bench, every shadow.
“MAAAVERICK!” she screamed, her voice cracking from the panic and guilt.
A man pointed toward the parking lot. “I think a kid ran that way!”
Blair didn’t wait.
And what she saw next almost took the life straight out of her.