Rita's Point Of View
"She is the mother of my child."
The silence that followed Charles's declaration wasn't just quiet; it was heavy, oppressive even, like the air right before a thunderstorm breaks and unleashes its fury. I stood there, my hand still tucked into the crook of his arm, feeling the heat radiating off his body in waves. My mouth had fallen open, my brain struggling to process the sheer audacity of what he'd just done.
He hadn't simply admitted to being the father, he'd claimed me in front of the very people who had spent twenty-five years treating me like a stain on the family rug, something to be hidden away and scrubbed at in vain.
The weight of that public declaration settled over me like a cloak I hadn't asked for but found myself wearing nonetheless.
