paul lahote's gf

You don't give him another chance to speak, you just leave. Your first love - your first, well just about everything, breaking up with you so he can date around while he starts playing football professionally. The pain in your chest blossoms when you leave his house, pulsing and thumping in your heart as you make your way down the street, hands tight around the purse in your hands.

He didn't give you a chance to speak before he started breaking up with you. Didn't give you a moment to tell him why you called him to talk.

The pregnancy test in your purse is weighing you down, it feels like a massive weight on your shoulder and you can't take it, you rip it out of the bag and toss in into the first garbage bin you see.

"Tartt, the funniest thing just happened to me," Colin says, kicking his shoes off, "I've seen a boy that looks exactly like you."

"Okay, weirdo, been lookin' at kids lately, have ya?"

Jamie laughs as Colin hits him on the shoulder. "Shove off that, it wasn't weird, he was just outside with Will, and you guys looks identical, it was kinda freaky."

"Does Will have a kid?" Isaac asks, "I didn't know that."

"Oi Will!" Jamie shouts, calling Will over. He'd been walking passed the room at the perfect moment. "D'you have a kid we didn't know about?"

"No... I don't think so. Unless I dunno 'bout him either."

"Who was the little guy you were here with a minute ago then?" Colin asks. "I thought he looked exactly like Jamie."

"Oh, that kid, uh, yeah I don't know - just came up to me maybe or uh, I don't know."

"Y'all right, mate?" Isaac asked, eyes narrowing at the response, "that was a weird way to answer. You don't have to tell us but jeez mate, don't sound so suspicious."

"Suspicious...? Oh god, no," Will sighs, "he's my cousin's kid. She told me not to tell. She's just giving me a ride this week."

"Who's the dad, is it Jamie?" Colin asks, laughing, all the boys laugh except for Will, who looks oddly petrified.

"I should really get to work," he says, rushing out of the room. Isaac is the only one not laughing, Isaac is the only one who noticed that Will didn't actually deny it. And that Will seemed cagey over the question.

Isaac turns to his locker, it must be a coincidence, right? Or just Kitman being an idiot. He decides that it's probably just in his head, that he's making up a scenario that doesn't exist.

But the next morning, he just can't drop it. He waits until Will is being dropped off before he comes out of his car, Isaac is doing everything to act nonchalant. Grabbing his bag outta the boot like normal, waving politely to Will and the mysterious woman in the car, and then trying to peak at the situation.

Nothing seems weird at all, and he doesn't know why he's even doing this, until a little voice calls his name.

"C'mon bud, don't yell at strangers like that it's not nice, even if they're famous footballers," you're telling the kid, but Isaac sees an opportunity and he takes it, he comes over to the group of you.

The kid is still in the car, buckled into a booster seat, wiggling around trying to get out.

"Big sports guy?" Isaac asks after polite hellos are exchanged, when you tell him your name, he smiles kindly, then turns to your son.

"Yes, the greyhounds are his favourite team. Watches them on the telly all the time, isn't that right?"

"I saw you on the telly!" the kid says, continuing to wiggle. "Mum?" he whispers, "can you let me out?"

And you do, and Isaac can't stop staring. Because this kid is the spitting image of Jamie Tartt. Same goofy smile, same puppy dog eyes, Colin wasn't kidding, this kid looks just fuckin' like the prick.

"What's your name, mate?"

"James, and I'm five," he holds up five fingers, and beams up at Isaac.

"Oh, you're 5!? That means you're a big man, huh? The rest of the team should be gathering inside, if you've got time, I'm sure they'd love to meet the little fella."

"Mum!"

"I'm sorry baby, but you've got school! Maybe sometime soon we'll come by and Will can show you around the club, ya?" You frown as James sadly gets back into the seat, shoulders slumped as you buckle him back up.

And Isaac tries to let it go.

He really does.

But he cannot shake that uncanny resemblance to Jamie's smile. And for christ sakes, the kids name is James.

Isaac drops his bag, unable to stop the wheels turning in his head as he watches Jamie, and that stupid, similar grin... is it Jamie's brother? Does Jamie know he has a brother? Is it a weird doppleganger situation?

Colin waves a hand in front of Isaac's face to try to get his attention.

"Y'good mate? You haven't moved in like, five minutes."

"Yeah, yeah, I just ... Jamie?" Isaac asks, thoughts still miles away. "You ever meet Kitman's cousin?"

"How would I know?"

"Her name is uh... ah fuck she just said it, oh uhm," when Isaac says your name, Jamie's face goes pale. His blood turns to ice, and he doesn't say one word. "Mate?"

"She was here?" Jamie asks finally, his voice sounding smaller than ever, barely above a whisper. "It can't be her, I mean, what are the odds?"

"What are you talking about?"

"My first girlfriend, well the first real one anyway that was... tha' was 'er name."

Colin and Isaac share a look, but don't say anything. Jamie runs to the parking lot, ignoring Keeley and Roy who call out to him in the hallway, but when he gets to the parking lot, you're already gone. If it really was you, he's let you get away again. He's kicks at some rocks in frustration, and slams the door open on the way back in.

Jamie tries to catch sight of you every day for the night week. But you're never there, and Will is not being any help at all. Jamie's losing his fucking mind, thinking you're so close and you know he's there, but you don't want to see him.

And he knows he's being selfish, that if you don't want to see him then he shouldn't be trying to make it happen, but you're all he can think about. How did you turn out? Did you go to school for what you wanted? Did you fall in love again? Do you still listen to the soundtrack of your favourite movie while doing housework? Who did you become? Would you like Jamie now? Would you like the person he became?

It's plaguing his mind as he walks across the parking lot, how was your mum doing? She'd been sick when he broke it off, and he... he never checked in.

And then he sees you.

The air around him grows impossibly thick.

His stomach turns with nerves.

You're still there with Will, talking to Roy Kent of all people, and Jamie has turned to stone, staring at you as if he's seeing a ghost in real time.

Without any input from his brain, his legs start towards you, and they don't stop until he's right in front of you.

Jamie Tartt is standing in front of the first love of his life, and you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. You've always been beautiful to him. But it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again, and his stomach turns into rock and drops into his abdomen and he feels sick.

"You look beautiful," Jamie says before anything else, and Roy turns his lip up in disgust.

"Why would you start with that?" Roy asks, and turns back to you, noting the way your face has gone pale. "Ah, well, I'll be inside. Tartt, ten minutes." Roy starts to walk away. "And bring the little guy around for a tour!"

"Jamie," you say, too stunned to comprehend what was happening. Of course you knew there was a good possibility of running into him here, maybe you wanted to get caught - not for you, but for your son, Jamie's son...

"What are you doing here? You're not... you're not here with Roy, are you?"

"Wha - Roy? No, I just met him." You look towards the car and back to Jamie, thinking about your options. But it all feels like too much. You feel your knees growing weak, and you're overwhelmed and... you have to get out of here. "I have to go, school starts soon and I-"

"Are you a teacher?"

"No, I just... I just have to drop off my son."

"You have a kid?" Jamie falters a bit. He's thought about you a lot, and never had that thought crossed his mind, it never... he didn't... It wasn't fair for him to feel jealous at the thought of you moving on, it was his fault it all got thrown in the rubbish, but he felt it anyway. Images of you walking into the house with your son on your hip, to a man that scoops the little guy up and swings him around. "Who's the uh, who's his dad?"

"Jamie, I really have to go."

"Wait, can we - could we get coffee sometime? Or something?" Jamie steps closer, but you step backwards, inching towards the door. "Or dinner, or drinks? Or anything?"

"Jamie - I don't... I don't know what we'd say, I mean, you were right we were just kids and..."

"No, I..." Jamie pauses, looking into the backseat of your car where you son was rolling a hot wheels along the side of his car seat. "Is that, how old is he? Who did you say his dad was?"

"I didn't," you say, unlocking the car and slipping into the seat. Jamie stops you from closing it, not by force, but he just holds the frame.

"And how old is he?"

"I'm five!" James shouts from the backseat. "I saw you on the telly too!"

Jamie doesn't say anything else, the thoughts in his mind running too fast for even him to follow. You grab his wrist, moving his arm back from the door, and close it.

Jamie doesn't fight, just watches you drive away - with a boy that looks exactly like him.

"Tartt! I said ten minutes!" Roy comes out shouting, but when he sees Jamie, he stops, eyes blinking in confusion. "What is your fucking problem?"

"Why was she here? D'you know?" Jamie asks, his voice is distant - close, but as if his thoughts were miles away.

"That's Kitman's cousin. Why? Did she reject you?" Roy asked, smirk threatening to pull at his lips, but Jamie still hasn't turned around, so nothing seems quite funny yet. "What is your problem, eh?"

"Roy," Jamie lifts his hand and then drops it. "I think I just met my son."

"Fucking pardon me?"

"You think he's yours?" Colin asks, "I was just joking when I said he looks like you, honest."

"He looks just like me," Jamie puts up one finger, "he's five years old, and I broke up with her just over five years ago - I checked," he puts another finger up, "she named him James."

"Yeah that's..." Isaac and Colin look at each other. "Yeah, likely yours then."

"Why wouldn't she tell me?" Jamie said. "I could've, I would've... sent her money at least."

Roy grunts from beside them. "No wonder she didn't fuckin' tell you. Find out you may have a kid and the first thing to think about it is fucking money."

"Well I just mean I could've helped support em!"

"Kids need their fucking... a waste of - argh!" Roy stand up, and points at Jamie. "Make it right!" He shouts, and Jamie leans away, resting against Isaac as Roy stares him down.

"She didn't even tell me so how's it my fuckin' fault!?"

"I can only imagine it..." Roy backs off, and quiets down, but his tone is sharp - angry and vulnerable from unresolved issues that Jamie didn't cause but was feeling the consequences of. "Eighteen year old Jamie dumps his girlfriend and moves on with models and actresses and is all over the news... my heart breaks for that fuckin' girl and you..." Roy points at Jamie. "Did she have... people?"

"Well," Jamie is scared to answer, "her dad was already gone and her mum was pretty sick..."

Colin and Isaac wince. Roy is breathing heavily, just staring.

"I fuckin' hate you so much."

You don't drive Will to the dog track anymore, but Jamie waits outside just in case.

Until he sees Will walk in, head down like he's sorry. Jamie then usually waits another ten minutes or so after that, just in case.

But today... today Will feels extra guilty, so as he's walking passed Jamie, he slips him a post-it note with an address on it. No words exchanged, but Jamie hugs him, then runs to his car.

He doesn't care that Roy will make him run laps until his feet are bleeding, Roy's been riding him all week anyway - he can't sleep, can't eat. All he can think about it is you and that little boy. He needs answers.

So here he is, knocking on the door like a madman, but once again not getting any answer. He was going to explode. He takes a seat on the step, head in his hands.

He tortures himself by imagining your life without him. He pictures you happy, dancing with some man in the kitchen, experiencing your sons childhood with someone tall dark and handsome who wasn't a fucking idiot. But then he pictures a sadder, harder reality, where you were alone. Mum and dad gone, no man, just a single mum trying to get by right out of highschool.

You pull into the driveway before his imagination starts playing that Sarah McLaughlin song, but he'll admit, that was probably close.

You don't startle when you see him sitting there, you knew it was only a matter of time until Will cracked, he was kind of... soft.

"Hello Jamie," you say, too casually, like you're passing by a coworker you see everyday.

"Where's the little guy?" Jamie asks, eyeing the empty car seat.

"He's got school Jamie, I imagine they're halfway through the ABCs right now."

"Right, yes... got it."

"Jamie..."

"Don't say my name like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're... dismissing me. I think I deserve some answers."

You look at him thoughtfully. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you deserve answers?"

"What the- what do you mean? I've got a son and you didn't bother to tell me!" Jamie doesn't raise his voice per se, but there's a tone that left friendly behind.

You sigh, "let's take this inside, I don't need the neighbours to know that my sons father was on some trashy tv show."

And shame washes over Jamie like a cold bucket of water, and you move around him like you didn't just flip his world on his head. James is his kid, he knew it, but now he knows it. And he's missed it. First steps, first word, first day of school. He's missed it all. Christmases, birthdays, all have been without his dad.

"Jamie?"

"Hmm?" He can't look up from this one spot of your lawn, he's glued to the spot.

"Are you coming?"

He pulls himself out of his trance and follows you in. It looks like his moms house. There are toys littered across the floor. Pictures of your son hanging off the walls, he notes there are no boyfriends or husbands, and he doesn't rejoice, but he takes note.

"Why'd you name him James?"

"I don't... I don't really know. It seemed right, at the time."

"Does it still seem right?"

You smile. "I couldn't imagine him being anything else but exactly as he is."

Jamie nods thoughtfully. "Can I meet him?"

"I don't want to confuse him."

Jamie takes that as a maybe. You haven't said no, but you have let Jamie in the door, so that has to mean something.

"How's your mum?"

"She died," you say, and Jamie's eyes widen, "died before James was born."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jamie is trying to calm down, your mum had always been sweet to him. He'd always liked her.

"You were already gone, and you were so excited to start your life it was just... it was how it had to be Jamie."

"I would've gone to the funeral, I didn't know I had to say goodbye." Jamie feels sick. He's been living this life of over indulgences and girlfriends (who he's treated poorly) and parties... and you've had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

"You would've seen I was pregnant, then you would've had to deal with that, then you would've grown to resent me... Jamie please, I've thought out every scenario, this was the best for everyone."

Jamie shakes his head, his face twists up in pain. "It wasn't, I would've been a dad to him. I would've taken him to home games and taught him how to ride a bike..." Jamie's throat tightens at all he's missed. At the daddy issues he's caused simply by not being around.

"Parenting is not all football and giggles Jamie, it's messy. And it's exhausting. And it probably would've gotten in the way of your career, and I - I did a fucking bang up job. James is happy, and he's healthy. He's got friends. I check for monsters. I taught him how to ride a bike."

"He can ride a bike already?"

"Okay I taught him how to get on a tricycle, but I will teach him how to ride a bike."

"I can do that part," Jamie says, "Let me do it. And I can check for monsters. And I can teach him how to kick a ball. I can have your back when you're parenting and I can help him with his homework." Jamie sighs. "I didn't know, and I was such a wanker. And I'm not even asking for you to give me a chance as a boyfriend," he mumbles 'maybe later' under his breath and you laugh softly, shaking your head, "but give me a chance to be a dad, I swear, I'll be such a good co-parent, I swear."

"Why don't you come by for supper," you sigh, "not as a dad. But... you can get to know him a little. He can get to know you."

"I love supper," Jamie says, making his exit before you can change your mind.

Jamie doesn't go back to training. He gets a haircut. Showers, puts on some nice clothes - but not too nice.

He can't stop thinking about James.

Can't stop thinking about you.

He's been... a fool. Such a fool.

Breaking up with you had always felt kind of wrong. There was always a part of him that wondered about you, always a part that was so sure you'd find your way back to each other. Which, in hindsight, is shitty, when you're dating other people but it always felt... something was always wrong. And he knows what it is now, it was his family, getting by without him. While he looked for something akin to love in all the wrong places, there had been a home, made without him.

Jamie tries to keep himself together as he pulls up to your house. He can't believe you're letting him in for supper, can't believe this chance is happening.

He parks the car, takes a few deep breaths, and collects the flowers and the toy cars from the passenger seat.

There isn't a time Jamie can remember where his nerves were so shaken. The back of his knees are sweating, his heart is racing, and his fingers are going numb.

If you don't open the door soon, Jamie may have a heart attack on the porch. Then Roy will really kill him.

"Hello?"

A tiny voice calls Jamie's attention, and there he is, James, standing behind a screen door, looking up at Jamie with the same eyes that are looking down at him.

"Hey mate," Jamie says, voice cracking with nerves, "is your mum 'ere?"

"Come in, Jamie!" he hears you call from the kitchen.

And the nerves get worse, because you come out of the kitchen with a messy ponytail, apron on, pulling off oven mitts and Jamie's heart leaps and bounds like it just landed on the moon.

And he wants to cry.

Wants to cry and scream and sob because this could've been his.

He could've gotten out of training, picked up flowers and brought them home to his girl, and his son, and maybe a new baby too - and then joined his family for supper.

He didn't even know he wanted this.

Last week he would've laughed.

This week he feels like crying.

"You look beautiful," he says, in lieu of a greeting once again.

You laugh, "I do not and you are early."

Jamie's cheeks flush. "I know, I'm sorry, I would've called but I didn't get your number. I was too excited to wait."

"Are these for me?" James whispers, not quietly at all, eyeing the bag in Jamie's hand.

"James, that is not polite. You didn't even say hello."

James pouts. "I said hello! At the door."

"Yes, but when people come to see us we ask how they are, not what they've brought us. Like this, ready?" you walk over to Jamie and he can smell your shampoo, and it's the same as you always used and his brain misfires. "Thanks for coming Jamie, you look well, how are you?"

"Good, I'm good thanks." Jamie's knees feel weak, you're so close to him. He can see the colour of your eyes, he always thought they were so beautiful. He still does. "I brought these for you," he says, holding out the bouquet.

You hesitate, surprised Jamie remembered your favourite flower. And the right colour. "Thank you," you whisper, and your hands touch when you take them, electricity shooting up your arm, and you swallow, suddenly less sure of every decision you've ever made. Jamie was always so special to you. You always... saw him. You knew there was more to him than the cocky, pretty boy attitude he'd had in school. You were the one who saw him for him. A bitter reminder that that wasn't enough.

"And yes, these are for you." Jamie hands James the bag. "They were mine growing up, they were my favourite ones."

"Oh," James says, gingerly taking the bag, he looks up at you and his eyes widen, like he remembered something, then he says, "thank you!"

"You're welcome."

"Why don't you two go play while I finish cooking."

You retreat into the kitchen with the flowers, and have to set them down, to breath. You grip onto the ledge of the counter, taking a few deep breaths. Jamie is... he's always been what you wanted. You'd resolved to not let those feelings back in. But it's hard. When the first great love of your life is here, in your home, looking like being with you and James is exactly where he belongs.

You shake the feelings out, or try to, and move to get the flowers in a vase, getting them in the kitchen window for some sunlight.

A knock on the doorframe startles you, and Jamie is standing there, tail between his legs.

"D'you need any help in here?"

"No, no," you say, waving your hand, smiling and feigning nonchalance. "You go play with James, he'd be all too happy to show you his room if you ask. That's why you're here, right?"

You don't mean it to sound bitter, but Jamie flinches anyway.

"I'm here for you too, I've uh," Jamie's mouth goes dry, "I missed you."

"Jamie..."

"I know," he says, "I know I made a real mess of this one, but... I'm not going anywhere I'm going to, I'm going to fix it." Jamie doesn't carry any of his usual bravado. He doesn't act like it'll be easy, doesn't even seem sure of how he'll do it - but he will do it. And for whatever reason... you believe him. "I want to be a good..." Jamie looks over his shoulder at James, he doesn't want him to hear. "I want to be around, for both of you."

"I'm not going to stop you," you whisper, almost as if the words came out before you could stop them. "Being here for him, I mean. I'm not going to stand in the way - but we do it the right way, no confusing him and no changing your mind." You take a breath. "So we'll have supper, and then by the end of supper you have to decide if you're in it for keeps or not, because if not then I won't subject James to a distant father, better to have none at all."

Jamie's eyes widen, and he nods, unable to say anything. He's scared. He's so fucking scared to blow it.

And he doesn't have the right, he knows he doesn't have the right but he wants you too. He wants you both. He wants to pull you in for a kiss and hug you, rubbing your back until the worries melt away. And he wants to go into the living room and pick his little boy up, spinning him around until his tummy hurts from giggling.

He wants it all.

And he doesn't have the right to any of it, but he's going to earn it.

During supper, one that feels normal and comforting, Jamie fits right in around the table, listening to James tell a story about something that happened at recess. You and Jamie are laughing, and sharing knowing looks because damn this kid is a terrible story teller... and you and Jamie nod along and encourage him, and then when the story is over Jamie tells him without missing a beat, "Awh, mate, that's the best story I've heard all week - can't wait to tell the lads at the club," and your heart soars because... maybe Jamie could do this.

Maybe you could let him in.

But then after dinner, as Jamie is showing James how to flip cars off the back of the couch, Jamie's heart rate picks up - he just... can't stop thinking about missing five years of his son's life. That is time he can't get back.

"Can you give me a minute, bud? I'll be right back and we'll play so many race cars, a'right?" Jamie says, and excuses himself out of the room.

At first, you're angry. You've seen Jamie panic before, and this is it - you think this is where he says he changed his mind and he's out the door forever. Again.

James is none-the-wiser, flipping his hot wheels off the side of the couch. But you've seen Jamie fleeing, and this looks exactly like that. You follow him down the hall, and stop outside the bathroom he ducked into, ready to knock and give him a piece of your mind, when you hear soft sniffling on the other side of the door.

You knock, and the sniffling abruptly stops, and you hear rustling, and then Jamie opens the door, eyes still filled with tears.

"What's wrong?"

Jamie sighs, and lets you into the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the tub, and looks almost exactly like your son does when you're scolding him. Spittin' fuckin' image.

"He's just..." Jamie sighs again, "he's perfect. He's so perfect, and beautiful, and I've just missed so much. And it's my own fault, and I'll never be able to get any of it back, and I jus'... I'll regret it forever."

You sit beside him, putting an arm around him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder - because you understand. James is perfect. And beautiful. You both sit in the moment for a minute, until there's a tiny knock at the door.

"Mum! Do you think Jamie can stay and play Candy Land with us? I think he'll like it," James says through the door, and James looks to you, waiting for your okay, but all he can think about is how much he'd like to play Candy Land.

"Yeah, sure baby!" you say, kissing Jamie gently on the forehead, before walking to open the door and bring your son back to the living room while Jamie takes a minute to fix himself up. As you're walking away he hears you say, "I think Jamie had so much fun that he might come 'round more often for supper, and to play race cars with you, how does that sound?"

And his heart swells with joy when he hears his son, clapping and cheering at the idea of Jamie being around.

When he comes out of the bathroom, you and James are sitting on the living room floor, and you're setting up Candy Land while James sits patiently, legs tucked under him and hands in his lap.

James waves at him, you smile softly at him, and Jamie's heart starts beating for the people in this room.

It belongs to you.

It belongs to James.