We were working on a classic Ford Mustang.

“Give it a little more gas,” I called out to Billy, a kid I hired right out of High School to work at the shop.

Vroom, Vroom, Vroom! The car roared, and I looked down into the bay at the engine bouncing around each time he revved it hard.

“That’s enough!” I said and raised my hand. “We’re going to have to reinforce the engine mounts. We gave her so much power that the engine will pop right out if we don’t. But everything else looks good.”

“Alright boss,” Billy said. “I’ll get right to it.”

“Thanks, Billy,” I replied and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I’m going to head into the office for a minute to take care of some paperwork.”

Billy nodded, and I sauntered to the large office that was attached directly to the garage where we worked on cars. We had two more vehicles scheduled to come in that day, and the rest of the week was booked with overhauls. The shop was making a killing, and the only way that we were going to handle the growing business was to open another shop or move to a bigger space.

I looked down at the specs of a large warehouse on the other side of the OC, away from the High School. It was the perfect size to convert into a massive auto garage, but I was concerned it was a little further out of the way from where we were currently operating.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a new, white E-Class Mercedes Benz pull into up to the front of the shop. It wasn’t the type of car that people generally raced or had modified, and usually when those kind of cars that found our shop, they came looking for something simple like an oil change or tinted windows—things that we didn’t do.

I exited the office and started for the Mercedes, fully prepared to turn the car away, but then a door opened and a woman’s foot stepped outside. I saw the top of her head briefly, but then a little boy hit the ground and bolted for the Mustang that Billy was working on.

“Wow!” the little boy yelled as he ran and skipped at the same time.

I glanced at the Mercedes again and saw a woman starting to get out of the car yell, “Travis!”

He probably wasn’t in any danger, but there were little parts and tools lying around in the shop, and I didn’t need any sort of lawsuits filed against me if the boy were to hurt himself somehow. So, I started running after him.

“Whoaaa!” I said as I ran up to the boy who had made it up to the front of the car.

“Much-chang!” he said, pointing towards the silver horse emblem attached to the grill. “Much-chang!”

“Yep, she’s a Mustang alright,” I confirmed. I knelt down to the boy and looked at him. His eyes were sparkling with wonder, and there was something familiar about his face. I couldn’t put a finger to it, but he looked like someone I knew. “A very powerful Mustang, so you gotta be careful around her.”

He smiled at me then put all his attention back to the car, walking around to the side with his mouth wide. “Woooooooow!” He tilted his head back and started laughing, seemingly for no reason.

“You like cars huh?”

He nodded his head and started touching his open palm with his opposite index finger. “I want to drive ebery car eber made. Much-Chang, Corbette, Lamhernini!”

The boy was adorable, and his enthusiasm brought a smile to my face and a slight chuckle. “Well, I’m sure you will,” I began to stand up and turn back towards the Mercedes, “but you better run back to your Mo—“

“Hey,” the woman said.

The smile immediately dropped from my face, and I was speechless. The hairs on my arms stood on end and my chest started beating, hard.

There was Layla after so many years, standing right in front of me. She looked a little bit older than before, but there was no mistaking that it was her. Her face was the same, her body was a bit thicker, and she looked gorgeous. She was clearly a bit uncomfortable, but she was still wearing a smile.

I don’t know exactly how long I just stared at her, but after so many seconds, I managed to mutter, “Layla.”

“Mason, uh…” She took a deep breath and sighed. “How are you? You look great.”

I turned my head towards the ground, feeling almost like I had déjà vu from the day that Samantha tried to come back in my life. “You look great too.” I looked back up and towards the Mercedes. “Is that your car? We don’t do basic car service here, but I can give you a referral.”

Layla clenched her teeth a moment and her eyes wandered. “No, it’s not my—“

“Mommy! Look at the Much-chang!” the boy interrupted.

She looked down. “Yeah, it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“I want a Much-chang!”

She patted him on his thick head of hair. “Okay, I’ll get you a Mustang when you’re older.”

“Your son?” I asked, feeling even more terrible about the situation. Just seeing Layla hurt me, but seeing her with her offspring reminded me of how she ran away, and even worse, apparently started a new life with another man and had his child. And the kid had to be at least 2 or 3 years old already. That means she got started pretty quick after she left me.

Actually, the whole idea kind of made me sick.

“Yeah, Travis is my son.”

I swallowed and forced a smile, trying my best to hold my composure and not say something that would sound too much like an asshole. “That’s great.”

Layla took another deep breath. “So you still work in the shop here?”

I creased my brow. “I own the place now, but yeah I still work here.”

“What about Rolling Bluff? Do you still race?”

I exhaled and rolled my eyes. “What is this about Layla? I don’t have time to chit-chat about the past. Would you like a referral to a shop that can service your car or are your actually here for a modification?”

“I just want to talk.”

I groaned and threw my hands up as I began to walk away. “Sorry, Layla. I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait!” Layla yelled. “Mason, please wait.”

“No, I need to get back to my business.”

“Please,” she said again. “I came here so that Travis could meet his father. Mason… he’s your son.”

I had my hand on the office door and was about to push my way inside before I paused in my tracks. My ears started burning.

Surely I didn’t hear her right? Did she say that the little boy is my kid? She has to be shitting me.

“Excuse me?” I said as I slowly turned back around.

Layla took another deep breath and grabbed onto Travis’s hand while he started biting on one of his fingers, oblivious to the conversation going on around him. “I want you to meet your son: Travis.”

My face was numbing and my chest was pounding so hard that I thought I was going to black out. The only way I knew how to fight the feeling was with denial. “No…” I snickered and turned my head, thinking it was a joke. But deep down I kind of knew it wasn’t. The boy looked a lot like me, and it wasn’t until right then that I noticed.

“It’s true, Mason.”

I placed a hand on my forehead and tried to hold in my nerves. “You’re… sure? And you’re not fucking with me?”

“100% sure. That night at the football field when the condom broke. It—“

“I don’t understand. How the hell could you not tell me!?” I shouted.

“I—“

“You ran away on me!” I interrupted. I placed my palms on each side of my head and looked up to the sky, slightly spinning. “You ran away on me, didn’t even tell me where you were going, and then you fucking have my child and don’t tell me until now?!”

“I’m sorry…”

“How dare you,” I said as I pointed my finger at her, wanting to yell at her more. But then I looked down and saw Travis still biting on his fingers looking up at us both, totally confused about what was going on. As much as I wanted to tell her off, tell her how much of a fucking bitch she was, I didn’t want to go off in front of the kid—or my son, rather.

Fucking hell, I couldn’t believe I had a son.

“I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.”

Billy walked around to the front of the Mustang and looked at the three of us. “Hey Boss, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine, Billy. Just ignore us and keep working on the Mustang.” I turned my attention back towards Layla. “Come inside the office. I don’t want the whole fucking world to hear about how bad you fucked my life up.” I turned and pushed the door open, purposely not holding the door or being polite in any way.

I plopped my ass in the chair and watched through the glass door of the office as Layla turned towards the Mercedes and gave a slight, timid nod. There was a silhouette in the Mercedes, but I couldn’t see who. Layla looked worried, scared even, and I’m not even sure why. I didn’t do anything to her.

But then there was the kid. As much as I was hating Layla for what she had done, I had to take him into consideration with how I responded. I had always wanted to be a father—definitely not a surprise father to a boy I had never met before, but a father nonetheless. There was no question that I would acknowledge the boy and do what I needed to do—if Layla even wanted me to be a part of the kid’s life.

If I were going to be a Dad, I didn’t want to start off on the wrong track.