I sat on the park bench close to where Liam was playing, giggling happily as he swung back and forth on the swing. I watched to make sure he didn’t go too high up.
But then something caught his eye and he stopped pumping his legs. I followed his gaze to see a father holding his daughter up as she crossed the monkey bars. Once she got to the other side they both cheered and gave high fives. I watched Liam get off the swing and walk over to me to ask, “Who’s that?”
“He’s a daddy Liam.” Liam looked over to the scene again before turning to me again, “Why don’t I have a daddy?”
A lump formed in my throat though I knew this would happen eventually. I decided to lie…for right now. He doesn’t need to know the truth at age 4, “Your daddy was very mean. He hit mommy and broke one of her bones.” Well it was sorta the truth. The rapist did break my shoulder.
“Then why don’t you find a new daddy?”
“I don’t think I can honey. I was hurt really bad.”
That was the truth.