Breathe by Ani San Page B

gone. He is a good man, and you can trust him. But never forget who he works for’.
    ‘ Your father and I signed a contract after you were born. He would make sure you were ok financially, if I never contacted him direct or name him as the father. I never wanted to, either. I was angry with him for years. But I did love him, once. I met your father when I was backpacking with some friends. We were traveling through Italy, and he was there on holiday. He was a couple of years older than me, and quite charming. I let my friends travel on without me. We spent two weeks together, just him and me. I didn’t know he had a fiancée back home, but he told me he came from a conservative family. For him, this trip was a final youth spring, and he took it out on me. He told me everything the last night though. We cried together, and I really believed he would miss me. After two months back home, I realized I was pregnant. I need you to know that I never considered not having you. I went to Oslo and told your father, I am not going to tell you about that conversation. It didn’t go well. I got a letter some time later, with a contract. As soon as the paternity test was ready, he would send money to support you. I never spent that money. I wanted to prove I could do it all myself. Maybe I regret that now. Maybe I should have used some of it to show you the world. I should have used it instead of wasting so much time on work. I didn’t know our time together was going to be this short’.
    ‘ Your father got married two weeks before you were born. He has his own family now, and they don’t know about you. His family is in the media quite often, and he is terrified of a scandal. And if the media find out about you, they will never leave you alone. So I beg you, please don’t contact him. He has bought himself free, and he will never be a father to you’.
    ‘ I love you so much, my baby, and I know you will do ok in life. Just remember to enjoy every second of it. Love, mom’.
    There was a news clip attached to the letter. A picture of a politician I had seen before. He was standing with his family. The sub text below was as following: The former tycoon Andreas Wiik Petterson is re-nominated as chairman for the Conservatives. With him in the picture is his wife Hilde, and daughters Sofie Alexandra and Mille Marie. The son, Andreas jr. was attending the Cowers Creek regatta, and was therefore not present at yesterdays press conference.
    I read about the son some time later. He was in a car accident, and had been charged with reckless driving under the influence. The case was dropped due to insufficient evidence. I remember it well, cause it was in the media for days. The opposition were talking about corruption. Nothing was proved, though.
    My mother never wrote my fathers name, but the news clip left no doubt. I even saw a resemblance to my own in the daughters faces. In the beginning, I was so overwhelmed by grief and anger, that I didn’t care who he was. I didn’t want anything to do with him or his money. I burned the picture, and blocked him out of my mind. I shut the world out. Erik, my boyfriend, took control over my life, and I let him. My anorexia came back, after being subdued for two years. And my panic attacks came at random moments. Well, actually not that random, they usually were connected with Eriks’ anger, which I usually provoked in some way or the other. It wasn’t a good time to be me. Somehow, I thought maybe my father would come and save me. He never did, and finally I went to see him. That wasn’t a good time for me either.

    I was clearing the table and doing the dishes when Christopher came back. We finished it together in silence. I tried to block my memories, to concentrate on the here and now. The past is past, and you could only change the future. I loved having Christopher here, doing trivial things and enjoying each other’s company. I knew having him here was wrong, but I didn’t care. I