Mistakes are made, so we can learn from our faulty decisions and avoid ever stepping into the murky water filled with the pain and blood of the past again. Relieving it would only make an individual madder than they already are. Though some repeat such cycle of mistakes over and over again like it's the only thing they've ever known in their life, unable to escape it.

I had made some mistakes in the past that I have learned from, like a misstep, I'll always be careful to avoid. I had been hurt, broken, humiliated and shattered yet stepping into these rubbles of dirt and stones into the gates of the place I've never wanted to go back to, with all of its sense of premonition of another pain and suffering was the choice I made in the very end despite what I had learnt and experienced.

I wasn't a martyr in love now, I had passed the time when I overly dedicated my self to one Man who never truly bothered seeing me for who I was. I was young, I had so much overflowing love to give that it almost felt like endless most of the time. I gave all I could give, and I gave it unconditionally, uncomplaining and unweavering, until I was nothing.

Few Familiar faces greeted me as I entered the Manor where I spent my years loving the first man who've I've ever loved. Servants of all ages and specialties welcomed me, trying hard to make it as the warmest welcome they could ever give a person who they somehow emphatised with. It wasn't a secret that I was someone who've suffered within the wall and layers and layers of secret and security of these manor. Rumors can only circulate, giving most people who're serving this family a little gaze of what truly occurred in the past.

It wasn't a secret after all. The humiliation and heartbreak that I've suffered in the arms of my Ex-husband who is to spend all his days in this house as he heals from the accident he suffered.

"Audrey, you came."

In her sickly dripping with sweetness and relieved tone, my ex-mother in law expressed, with her arms open as widely as she can as she came into my direction as if wanting to give me a hug. As the little boy in the back of her gave me a little peek following his grandma in his small shy steps.

I put on a neutral smile, contacting my muscle like a routine, It wasn't that hard when you're used to smiling without a happy cause. I let her embrace me, though I did not accept her embrace back. Her ever-so-luxurious strong stench of based perfumed infiltrated my nose as I stared at the little boy who came to a stop meters away from us.Not having a clear definite expression in his small chubby face that I can read. 

It's been weeks since I have last seen him, my son, our son. The son my parents in-law took away from me from the very minute I birthed him. And no, I didn't come here to take him away from the only home, he had always known. I don't have a single plan on fighting for his custody. He was better off without me. without a single ounce of regret or fear of being hated by him, I let it go, I would let him go if it meant him having a better life, The wanting to have him by my side, It was the best I could've done as his mother.

I forced my self to understand that back then, he was indefinitely better being taken care of my in-laws that me and now it was only a natural thought. I've only wanted to spend a little time with him and teach him as best as I could.

That's how deep my insecurities ran its roots, I could never get rid of it as much as years have pass. To unlearn what you know was not easy, it's like scraping you own cells.

"I did, thank you for the warm welcome, Mrs. Armado."

With all the formality, I expressed my gratitude towards her. She was never evil nor cruel to me as an in-law back then. She disliked me, with the right reasons for her son. I was a teenage girl, and she understood that I and Anthony would never be truly compatible for each other, I wish I followed her back then advicing me to leave instead of stubbornly proving that her son would grow to love me.

I used to be so stubborn and so prideful when I first stepped a foot into these mañor, now I knew my rightful place, in her sons heart and this home, I was a indefinite guest. This was never my home. 

"C'mon, Audrey call me as you used to call me back then, I would love hearing you call me Mother." gleaming me a smile that did not reach her eyes, I knew it didn't. Her tone was somehow hinted with sadness, I could tell.

It is unclear to my why she was this welcoming to me. Time changes people but what exactly spark her to start wanting to be called mother by me? I wasn't married to her son anymore. Ou only connection was our past and the standing on the distance.

"I don't think it's appropriate, I'll call you aunt, is that slightly better?" It wasn't appropriate, and I was hesitant to do so. She gave a sigh, as if giving up in her initial proposition, then turned towards the boy who was staring at us with the utmost focus as a child can have. 

"Artemio, come here, why are you not greeting your mother, don't you miss her?"

Softly towards his grandchild, who lowered her his brown head as he walked towards us with his small legs. Rosalinda let him approach me, backing away. I lowered my self to the boy's height, smiling towards this boy as he lifted his head and stared at me with his big hazelnut eyes, that he has gotten from me.

"I missed you very, very much, my most adorable, handsome son." I said sweetly as I touched his soft, pink tinted cheeks softly.

"H-hello mom, I missed you too very much." His eyes getting slightly teary, he turned to his grandmother as if confirming something in a look that they only knew and turned his head back to me, facing me in his most adorableness. 

I never regretted having him. 

"Grandma said, that you'll stay with us now." I kept my smile as he spoke. He reached out for my hands that were grazing his cheeks tenderly, holding as much as he could fit in his small ones. "You'll stay right, you won't leave Artemio anymore, right?  Grandma said you don't like dad, but you love me very, very much, so you'll stay with us." tears brimming his 

eyes.

Hearing such things from him brew aching inside my chest. Embracing him tightly, yet with all the gentleness and love and longing I had for him. I couldn't find it in myself to lie to him, to tell him no. how could I evey deny my son of my love and time, I so longed to give to him? How could I destroy his profound hope?

How could I ever be so selfish and take my son away from his fathers side of family?

It means I'll be making another choice. A choice that I might regret at the end and might even re-destroy the pieces of me that i've tried so hard to put together.

How could I ever be selfish and deflect my pain and trauma toward an innocent boy?

If it meant facing the one who put me through agony that I didn't deserve and suffer, and being thrown into the torture of being reminded every single second I spent being in the same room as him of the sorrow and torment he put me through I would, over and over again.  I would sacrifice everything for my boy.

I closed my eyes, savoring this very moment that i've imagined countless of times in the past, every second with my son was precious to me. He was so grown now, I don't want to miss any of it anymore.

Hasty suppressed footsteps sounded the carpeted floor. A person dressed in a maid uniform came to our direction

I stood up, lifting my son along with me, in my arms,  staring straight onto her lowered head as she catch her breathe.

"Missus, Master! He's awake!" Frantically she expressed, then as if relieved of the burden of her surprising revelation, she sighed a relief.

"My son, Anthony!  He's awake!" With a mixture of  overwhelming shock and relief Rosalinda Armado burst in tears, not wasting anymore time as she quickly went up stairs.

I turned my attention to the boy in my arms. Who was also faced me. "Mommy do you want to see father?" He asked my in his large glossy eyes.

I don't know what came over me but I was just overwhelmed by the explainable force of sadness that rose inside me when he uttered such a question, I was trembling. I genuinely feared his father, but knowing that he was aware of our story, of his mothers mistakes and was considerate and sensitive enough to ask of my feelings on such matters, made me so emotional.

My son who I've only met thrice this past 3 weeks deserved a better mother.

"Do you want to?" I gave him the biggest smile that I could ever muster. Tears uncontrollably flowing down my eyes. He wiped my tears aways with his white cotton sleeves, kissing my cheeks. 

"Don't cry mommy, we don't have to. I'll just stay with you here." he then wrapped his arms around my neck and softly  embraced me, as if to comfort me further.

"No- no, we should see your daddy, he would be looking for you, because he misses you very much." hiding even further the crook of my neck, embracing me tighter.

"Really, father wants to see Art?" He asked unsure in a low whisper only both of us can hear. 

I didn't even know what my son have been through the few years I was gone, to ask such question, but I knew what his father can be capable of and not be capable of. Making me feel even more regretful knowing that I wasn't with him as he grew up. 

I could've been the one enduring the pain rather than him. Hoping and praying that his father was at least good to him, a descent dad at the very least.

"Of course! Do you want me to carry you there?" I patted his back gently.

"No. I'll lead mommy there." Getting him out from my embrace, I gently lowered him, helping him out sort his balance on the ground.

Smiling I patted his head, Bending a little. "My son is so grown, already." He was more than a meter tall. I was Satisfied that he was growing healthy with his age of nearly 5.

Wiping the corners of his eyes, he reached out for my hand, trying to intertwine his small fingers with mine. "I'll grow up faster so I can follow mother wherever she wants to go. I can protect you then." determination blazing in his orbs.

What did I ever do to deserve such a boy like him? How can he forgive me for giving up on him, leaving him for the past 5 years?

Holding much smaller hands as we went up stairs, he guided me to the room where his father is re-occupying.

The steps and direction are ever so similar, because of the countless room in these manor, these was the halls I spent my days tracing, using to go to my room, with the heaviest and the lightest heart. Suppressing every heartbreak and salty tears till I reached my room. It was one of the biggest witness in my tragic love story.

Why would he be re-occupying here? 

Yes it was our room, rarely his. But why this room out of all rooms? They had an private infirmary here in the manor itself. 

The door was opened, giving a full view of the room in the right angle.

I stopped my steps before the line that separated the hallway and the room. My son was on the other side, still holding my hand with his little one. 

My body was somehow shivering, growing cold of fear, as if feeling the familiarity of the gaze on it. I found my self lowering my head, focusing my sight on my sons back.

I didn't know what came over me that moment, when I still found my self back in my reflection in his orbs. Our eyes meeting. His expression was indifferent, stoic yet his eyes was only fixated at me.

As if time had stopped. Pushing to a cliff, falling and falling as my memories flash between my eyes, forcing me to unbury the memories that was filled of with him. I felt suffocated. Whether it was happiness or sadness, love or hate. It puched me in the gtt. Filling my being with a sense of disgust and fear. I cannot breath.

I was terrified of him, his stare told me that there was countless of plans being strategised in his mind. Yet I stood my ground aven if I was standing was falling, the air seemed to have needles in it prickling my lungs in the most uncomfortable way possible.

He wasn't the only one with secrets.

I promise to end this for once and all.

I owe my past self my parents and now my son, happiness.