I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this nervous.

I stood before the mirror in my walk-in closet. I dressed in a blue hoodie and dark slacks. It was a little past two. The time for my appointment with Zackary was here and all I could see in the mirror was the mangled skin that was still visible even when I wore the mask.

I closed my eyes and tried to block out the image of Zackary screaming and running away in fright. I wouldn’t hold it against him if he did it again. He was just a kid, afraid of the monster his dad had become. Charlotte was right. It was time to try again. Especially now that Jillian was out of the house.

The alternative was Zackary would grow up like I did, without an actual parent to lean on. I was lucky I had Stanley to step in and guide me, but Zackary had no one. Just a selfish drunk for a mother.

Turning away from the mirror I headed out to the gazebo. They were already there. It seemed as if they had had a picnic.

She was speaking to him, a smile on her face. He said something and she threw her head back in laughter. I felt my heart warm and expand. This was the woman for me.

Then she noticed me and so did Zackary. My eyes slid over to him and I watched his face. His whole body tensed. I could recall that expression from memory. Pure fear.

Charlotte rose to her feet as I arrived and invited me to take a seat between the both of them. For the first time in years I was facing my son. He was staring at me as one would a highly colored snake. Equal measure of fascination and fear.

I softened my voice as much as I could. "How are you, Zackary?"

He turned to Charlotte for reassurance and met a blinding smile and a nod to urge him on.

"Fine," he mumbled.

I smiled.

I could see him wringing his hands nervously in his lap. I put my hands behind my back. "It's okay to feel nervous but you shouldn't always show it to other people. Now if you put your hands under the table nobody would ever know and you would still look very powerful to everyone. I am nervous too, but can you tell?”

He thought on this for a little while. “Why are you nervous?”

“Because you are my only son and I love you so much, but I am afraid you will be scared of me.”

Instead of removing his hands, he flattened them on the table. "I'm not nervous anymore so I don't need to hide them. I’m not afraid of scars. Charlotte has a scar too,” he announced.

"Well then little Mr. King you're the most powerful man here."

“Show your scar, Charlotte,” he said.

Charlotte turned her hand over and I saw the white scar on the inside of her wrist.

“You can touch it, Daddy,” he said. “Go on, Daddy.”

I reached my hand and let my finger trace the smooth scar. I could feel her blood pounding under my skin and my own blood heating up, the sweat on my skin starting to sizzle. I wanted to grasp her wrist, pull her to me, and kiss her right there, but I didn’t even look up into her face. I lifted my hand and looked at my son.

He smiled suddenly, a big beaming smile, and it warmed my heart to bursting.

When I was slightly more composed I turned to Charlotte and caught the look in her eyes as she watched me. It was one of complete adoration. I felt almost lightheaded with joy. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Fortunately, she had better sense than me. She turned away quickly. "See, Zackary," she said to him. " there's nothing to be afraid of. Your father is brilliant, is he not?"

For a moment Zackary looked like he wanted to disagree, and the genuine indecision on his face made Charlotte laugh. A second later, I forgot to be self-conscious that I was the butt of their joke and laughed too. Because he did truly look so adorable. I was fascinated by my son. He had grown so much. He could understand everything I said, and talk back. It was wonderful.

Carrie came from the house carrying a tray with little desserts on it. She asked if I wanted something to drink, but I refused. Charlotte immediately stood and started to do something with the tray. My eyes slid over to her. She was in a pair of tight jeans and I couldn't help but notice the curve of her hips. She had a beautiful full butt. The kind that you wanted to watch as she rode you reverse cowboy. I thought of it spread out on my stomach.

Suddenly, I was rock hard in the gazebo with my son a few feet away. It was the last thing I fucking needed. I quickly turned my attention back to my son. “So when do we fly the kite, then?”

“After dessert,” Charlotte said, turning back to catch my gaze.

I didn't look away, and she couldn’t have missed the raw desire for her that consumed me day and night.

She forced a smile to her face and held out a little plate. There was a dainty square piece of chocolate dessert on it. I stabbed it with my fork and pushed the whole thing into my mouth. Fuck, I was so turned on, it tasted of nothing. To my surprise, my son copied my action exactly.

With his mouth full, he announced, “I’m ready.”

“Wait for Charlotte,” I said, and we sat there and watched her eat her piece. She had no idea what she was doing to me. Or maybe she did. Hell, the woman ate chocolate as if she was giving it a blowjob.

I stood from the chair not knowing what to do. She finished her dessert and we walked to the middle of the green she said, “Aren’t you going to show Daddy your painting?”

Immediately, Zackary held his kite up for me. I stopped walking and stared at figure of a man with the black face. That stick figure was me. I was holding hands with another smaller stick figure. I looked from the painting to Zackary’s face.

He took the kite from me. “That’s you me and Mummy,” he declared proudly, stabbing at the three stick figures.

I had to fight back tears. In his world, we were holding hands.

“Don’t be rough with the kite," Charlotte cautioned softly.

Zackary became as still as a statue. His degree of concentration was amusing and I would have laughed out loud if my heart didn’t feel as if it was in a vise.

Charlotte tapped affectionately on the tip of his nose. "You don’t have to go that still."

I had never flown a kite. Until I was ten and before Stanley came into my life, my childhood consisted of schoolwork, housework, and regular beatings. Since I didn't know how to fly one, I sat back down when we made it to the middle of the green and watched them.

It was a windy day and they struggled with the kite, but every moment was one to be relished. I watched as they ran about in the grounds with the kite, crashing it continuously, until finally it rose into the air. For a time I held my breath and felt the beauty that could be found in the simplest of activities.

Until the kite got lost in a tree.

Both of them looked as though they would burst into tears and I couldn’t tell who was the child.

"Go get the gardener, Zackary," she said.

He ran off and she came over to me. "Thank you, Brett, for taking the time for us."

"I should be thanking you,” I said to her. And I really meant it. It had been the best hour of my life.

Zackary was racing over to us. “Brian is coming,” he shouted excitedly.

“Let’s head over to the tap to wash off these grass stains,” she said to him.

At the tap, exactly what I expected happened. Charlotte sprayed Zackary with a blast from the hosepipe and I watched as they got into a little water fight. I would have been fully included, but neither was familiar with me as of yet, so I got off with a few stray blasts.

Our laughter rang out into the early afternoon skies, and it was a memory I knew I would never forget. Charlotte was soaked, her white blouse glued to her chest and giving me a perfect view of her breasts. I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Zackary, go and ask for some towels from Mrs. Blackmore,” I instructed.

He hurried away obediently towards the kitchens.

I would have approached her, but it turned out she was the one in that moment who longed for me even more than I did her.

“Let's call a truce she said." I felt the heat of her gaze. We were drenched, but I felt like my whole body was on fire. Her earlier rejection felt like a forgotten memory. The bulge of her nipples through the white cotton material hardened me even further, and more than anything I wanted to have them in my mouth.

"Will you take your mask off?" She took a step forward and to my surprise my feet took me backwards.

I could not believe I was retreating. She took another then but this time, I forced myself to hold still. Cowardice was not a word I acknowledged in anything that I did, and it wasn't going to start with her.

"You're the one who can't seem to look me in the eyes now," she said, and her tone was anything but smug. She looked terrified, and yet unable to control herself from coming forward.

Her hands were on my shoulders for support, and before I could work out her full intention her lips were on mine. She kissed me, her tongue softly nudging my lips apart. For a few seconds, I relished the taste that was solely hers.

Then I crushed my lips to hers.

My strength pushed her backwards so with my arm around her waist I cushioned the impact as her back connected with the old wall. My mouth feasted on her lips and then sucked on the plump bottom one. The kiss was desperate, and all-consuming.

Somewhere in the distance I heard Zackary call out to her, but I still couldn't pull away from her.

“Charlotte? Where are you?” his little voice rang out.

Eventually when his voice got too close, I found the will. I ended the kiss, and turning around, walked away. But it felt as if I was walking on air.

My whole world was shaken. Now I knew. I could not let Charlotte go.