A Secret

Casey

It felt so easy to look at them and think of us as a family. But as soon as the idea came into my head, I shook my head and shook it out of my head. It was something stupid, something that couldn't happen, something I had to forget.

The fact that Caesar didn't want to give me the job should have been a good thing because at least now I wouldn't have to see him. And by the time I got another job, I'd just leave the Blackwell Mansion as soon as I could, and I wouldn't have to ever see him again if I could.

It's a good thing that my mom then came outside at that very moment before my emotions got the better of me.

"Oh, so that's where all of my kids are," she said, looking towards the three of us with a smile.

I found myself looking at Caesar and he frowned, but didn't say anything, but also didn't acknowledge what my mom said—or her—in total.

"It's time for Victor to have his bath and go to bed. It's past your bedtime," Mom said towards Victor.

"I'll take him," I said quickly, as I stood up and took Victor's hand.

Caesar said, "I thought we were talking. We aren't finished talking yet."

"About what?"

"About my apology and what I was saying."

I swallowed before I said, "I accept your apology. It's fine, Caesar. Don't worry about it. I am taking him to take a bath and get him to bed."

I had just taken two steps before Caesar suddenly said, "Wait."

I turned back to look at him for a moment.

"Victor is also my young brother, and I haven't spent a lot of time with him. Maybe after you're finished bathing him, I can read him a story before I leave."

"But don't you like… live in the city? It's like an hour to get there on a good day. You should just leave."

"Are you kicking me out of my own family house?" Caesar asked, his voice filled with amusement and challenge.

Words caught in my throat as I tried to defend myself, but my mom was quicker.

"No, Caesar, she's not," she said, laughing as if this was all a big joke as if Caesar was just being playful. But I wasn't so sure.

"She's just worried about you. It's okay if you want to read him a story. I think it would be good for the two of you to bond... And you can sleep if you want, this is your home."

I smiled at both of them and then said before Cesar answered my mom, 

"Okay, I'm going to give him a bath and get him dressed, and then...."

"Then I'll come and read him a story. What's your favourite bedtime story, my little guy?" Caesar asked Victor.

Victor lit up. "The Toy Story! The Toy Story, the one with the pictures and the voices and the music," he added, getting excited.

"Of course," Caesar said with a smile, then looked at me and winked.

I huffed quietly. What was he planning now?

Still smiling, I took Victor inside. We went toward his bedroom. I gave him a shower, got him dressed, and tucked him into bed. Then I thought, What the hell, I'd just read him the story myself. He'd fall asleep, and then I'd go downstairs and tell them he was out cold.

I grabbed the book—it was a real one, a hardcover with a glossy cover—and just as I was about to read, there was a knock at the door. Not that we'd closed it. Victor's bedroom door always stayed half-open.

Caesar peeked his head in.

"Oh, you're already dressed. I'm just in time."

Victor's eyes sparkled as he saw him.

"Caesar! Caesar, you came!"

"Of course, I came. I'm going to read the story—even if it kills me," Caesar said, walking in.

He came over to the bed and started messing around with Victor, making goofy baby noises, and pulling silly faces. Victor was eating it all up, laughing so hard, his little body shaking from the joy.

And me?

It was just… too much for me to look at.

It was too much.

Too much to watch.

Too much to feel.

Too much to pretend.

Victor's laughter echoed around the room. His face lit up, all chubby cheeks and dimples, his eyes wide with joy as Caesar tickled his sides and made ridiculous voices that had no business sounding so good.

And me?

I stood there frozen, holding a book I could no longer see. My heart wasn't beating normally—it was pounding in this slow, aching rhythm that made my hands tremble. I looked at Caesar… really looked at him. The curve of his smile. The way his eyes crinkled when Victor laughed. The way his hand gently brushed Victor's hair back from his forehead.

How could he not know?

How could he sit there, playing with him, loving him in his own strange way, and not feel it in his blood?

Because he didn't know.

I didn't even realize tears had welled in my eyes until I blinked and felt one trace down my cheek. I turned my face slightly and wiped it quickly before either of them noticed. My son—our son—was laughing between us, blissfully unaware of the secret.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I stood up abruptly, put the book down, and practically ran out of there. I ran out of Victor's room to my bedroom, closed it hard, ran to my bathroom, closed the door behind me, and just started crying.

For a long time, I never thought I would ever find myself in this situation. I never thought I would find myself in this position. I never thought I would ever see Cesar again. And even if I were to ever see him again, I never thought the three of us would be in one room. That the three of us would be there, with me holding all the secrets so that the two of them felt they were related, but not in the way that they were.

I felt so guilty. And then, I was angry. Angry at the situation, angry at my circumstance, but then I was more angry at Caesar. This was all his fault. 

He's the cause of all of this. When I went to him five years ago, he wasn't there for me. He pushed me away. He didn't give me a chance to tell him of the life I was carrying inside me.

I don't know, maybe I was stupid, maybe I thought.... but then I stopped myself shaking my head, taking that image out of my head.

This is all Caesar's fault. I should be angry at him. I have nothing to feel guilty about.

Am I guilty? Maybe for lying to Victor. I'm sure when he grows up and learns of the truth, he will understand. Maybe he will.

Do you know who deserves to pay for this whole mess though? Caesar does.

And what did he say today? He's not going to give me the job because he's not capable. He is the CEO. I am sure there are a lot of opportunities at the company, and he can't even give me a position as a secretary to just pick up phone calls and answer them because I am dumb?

I stopped myself and took a deep breath.

I then made a decision looking at myself in the mirror. Caesar is going to give me the job. He's going to hire me. I don't care if I'm going to be his PA. I don't care what it is, but I'm getting a job tonight.

So I straightened myself. I put on a little bit of makeup to hide the fact that I had been crying and then I opened my bathroom door determined.

The moment I opened the door, guess who was in front of my bathroom door?

I froze, hand still on the doorknob, breath caught mid-exhale.

He was standing there, right in front of my bathroom door, his reflection already locked on mine, eyebrows knit together in concern, confusion… maybe something else.

The two of us stood staring at each other for a full-on minute before he said,

" Casey," Why did his voice sound like that?

I straightened, bringing back the bravado I had given myself when I gave myself a pep talk in the bathroom. I got out of the bathroom closing the door behind me. Now the two of us were standing so close, barely a pace between us.

Something changed in his eyes.

Maybe he saw the determination in my face.

Maybe he saw the difference in me.

But then he said something that caught me off guard.

"Where you crying?"q