His mistaken Identity

Chapter 17

When Jane was younger and imagined being an animal, an ostrich never featured on her list of options. But she felt like one now. Like a silly ostrich burying its head in the sad to hide.

She, however, remembered reading somewhere that the large flightless birds didn’t actually stick their heads in the sand to hide, but rather to turn their eggs. Jane didn’t even have the luxury of telling herself she was hiding to care for her son.

It was rather foolish. Jane knew it was. If not foolish, then very childish to pretend to be asleep. But that was what she did when she heard Christopher stop outside her bedroom door. She could clearly hear him fidget on his feet for several long minutes right outside her door. The back and forth was nerve-wracking even though he was bare feet. But the man didn’t knock or attempt to open the door. Not that she had really expected him to just open the door and walk in.

However, finally, he just walked away and didn’t walk back. Then, after a few seconds, she heard his bedroom door open and close quietly. Jane exhaled with a sigh. Relief or disappointment? She wasn’t sure yet. It was too confusing to try to sort out her emotions.

With Christopher’s presence no longer looming outside her door, Jane tried to collect herself. She checked on Tony. Her little man had somehow managed to throw away his little blanket, but he was still asleep peacefully, unaware that the adults in the house were playing chicken. Sighing softly, she covered him gently and then laid down on the bed next to him and stared at the white ceiling above the bed as though it held the answers to the universe. Or at least, the answers to her life.

What the hell!

They had kissed. There was no running away from the thought. Jane closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe it. She touched her lips tentatively. They tingled. Were they swollen or red? She wondered. Her body still buzzed from the heat that had flooded her when their bodies touched. She could swear she could still feel the imprint of his hands on her waist and his warm breath fanning her neck.

She didn’t have to ask herself many questions about why she had kissed him. At least she hoped her reasoning was straightforward. Enock had been her first lover, the love of her life, and the father of her son. Whether he called himself Enock or Christopher, nothing could change that. And then there was the fact that Christopher had shown her so much care, melting away almost all the anger and hurt she had felt toward him.

Jane cringed, musing over her own list of reasons. She would have to be blind, deaf, and stupid to buy that.

If truly Christopher was Enock, was she really saying she would forgive and forget everything and fall into his bed again? No questions asked, ready to continue where they had left off? Jane swallowed hard. That made her sound desperate, foolish, and a few other choice words a woman should never be described as.

Jane looked down at her son. Tony deserved a better father than a man who could fake his death and walk away from them. And as though that hadn’t been bad enough, Enock had landed them in the hands of dangerous men. She, too, deserved a man she could depend on. One who would always be there and maybe treat her like a queen. Jane hadn’t always thought she would be the kind to want a picket fence and two-point-five kids. At one time in her life, all she wanted was independence and to survive, and maybe have a good time as well. But after everything, and having Tony, Jane re-evaluated her goals and the path she was on. Now she wanted a stable home for her son. She wouldn’t endanger her son’s life for a good time. And she wanted a man that would be a great role model for her son.

Something else flashed through her mind. Her mind wandered back to what had happened in the kitchen. She pushed the thoughts of the kiss and how it had set her on fire aside and focused on when she had touched Christopher’s thigh. There had been no scar. Her hand had moved almost of its own violation and searched for it. But it hadn’t been there. Aside from body hair, her fingers had met nothing but smooth skin.

That fed to the doubts that Christopher was Enock. If that was truly the fact, it meant Christopher had taken a stranger and her son into his house and cared for them despite how many accusations and insults she had thrown at him.

That would mean that Enock was actually dead. Jane wasn’t sure which emotion to feel at that moment. Was she to feel a relief that Enock hadn’t actually abandoned her? Or fresh grief at realizing that he was actually dead? Then there was the matter of Christopher. Was it a good thing that he was not Enock after all? What did that mean for them and what had happened in the kitchen? And why did he look identical to her dead boyfriend?

Jane mused over these thoughts and questions for a long time. They were like a merry-go-round, spinning with no end and powered by an over-caffeinated Energizer bunny.

The house was quiet when she finally opened the bedroom door. The soft hum of electric appliances in the kitchen and living room was the only sound that broke the silence and gave proof of life.

After a short hesitation, she slowly made her way to Christopher’s room. All the courage she had gathered to talk to him almost evaporated before she could even raise her hand and knock on his door.

After a few mental shakes and, taking a deep breath, she tapped lightly on the heavy wooden door and waited. Perhaps a part of her hoped he was asleep or that he wouldn’t hear her knock, so she would return to her room and postpone the talk until morning. In fact, the more she considered it, the better it seemed. There was no urgency to have the conversation this very night. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to change her mind and walk away from the door. The man was apparently wide awake and had excellent hearing.

“Yes?” he answered.

Jane hesitated a beat, wondering if she could still run back to her room. But then she opened the door and stepped into the room. It wasn’t the first time she had entered the room. She had gone through it when she stormed into his bathroom with his phone. But now she gave it a more critical look.

She was, of course, just buying time.

The room was covered in a thick navy blue carpet, as though the occupant felt the need to announce the room belonged to a man. His choice of carpet did deserve credit, though. The carpet was warm and soft against her bare toes as she sank her feet into it.

In the room, there was also a large queen-sized bed with predictably gray sheets spread over it and that was where the man lay on his back, his head raised with the aid of several pillows and his folded arms. He looked at her expectantly, his eyes intense and unwavering on hers.

She couldn’t hold his gaze. She instead looked at the bedside table that held his mobile phones, a half-full bottle of water, what looked like a diary with a pen on top, a lamp, and an air-con remote control.

“You needed something? Is Tony ok?”

It warmed her heart that he gave her son so much thought, especially after the conclusion she had reached after long hours of thought.

A tiny smile tugged at her lips. “He sleeps like a baby.”

A soft answering smile appeared on his face. “Actually, babies don’t sleep that much from all the research I have been doing. They need to feed almost every two hours.”

Jane was shocked. “You researched?”

“You sound perplexed… What’s wrong with me doing some research?”

“You are not his father.”

Christopher had been laying down in a relaxed manner. As soon as her words flew out of her mouth, he moved and immediately sat up. Any trace of humor vanished from his face.

“You now believe that I am not your former boyfriend?” They hadn’t really spoken or screamed about the topic for some days, but Christopher knew she had continued to believe he was Enock. To hear that she was finally listening to what he was saying filled him with relief. It was an immense burden lifted off his shoulders. It hadn’t been pleasant to constantly defend himself for crimes he had not committed.

She nodded sadly. Took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Enock had a scar,” she said quietly in a tone that suggested the words should explain everything.

His eyebrows drew together and created a furrow. “A scar?”

“Yes, on… on his left thigh.”

Ah. At least he made sense of what had happened in the kitchen during their kiss earlier. She had touched his thigh and there was no scar. Then she ran as though the hounds of hell were at her heels.

Christopher wanted to hear this. He sat back against the headboard and patted the bed next to him in an invitation to sit. After a slight hesitation, she came and sat down next to him.

He didn’t say anything. As much as he wanted answers, he knew he had to give her the chance to tell him at her own pace. So, although he twitched with impatience, he waited for her to speak in her own time. Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

“I had just found out that I was expecting.” Jane chuckled as if she were reliving the moment. “It wasn’t planned… sort of an accident, actually. Finding out… It was both exciting and scary news, I tell you.”

He nodded. “I can only imagine,” Christopher commented softly. In the seconds of silence that followed, he glanced at the young woman seated next to him. She was what? Twenty-three? Christopher silently shook his head. How many young ladies that age think of becoming mothers?

Jane went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “Enock wasn’t home. It wasn’t unusual… He went out to hassle every day. And he usually came back late at night. I was kind of excited… I couldn’t wait to tell him. We had been together for almost two years. We lived together. No one had mentioned marriage, but I don’t think either of us ever thought of leaving… I at least never did. We were good together, you know?”

Another silence filled the room as she frowned, deep in thought. Christopher swallowed hard, not sure how to feel about the perfect relationship she was describing and her obvious upset that it hadn’t worked out.

“What happened?” he finally asked, hoping to get her talking again. It worked.

“He came home very late that night. Much more than usual. By then I was already very concerned and about to climb the walls. I must have paced for hours, but couldn’t feel the ache in my legs.” She shook her head at the memory. “I was a mess of worry. Mixed in with the anxiousness to inform him I was pregnant. But when he arrived, anxiety was the least of my problems.”

Her forehead creased. “His clothes were torn, buttons missing of his shirt… There was blood all over his jeans. His face...” She paused with her hand, gesturing her own face. “He was a mess. It was scary.”

At her silence yet again, Christopher asked, “What had happened to him?”

Jane shook her head. “He said he had gotten jumped… Just some hungry kids that wanted some money for food or drugs… or something.”

“You think that’s what actually happened?”

Jane gave him a look. “Before being kidnapped and threatened with death… I would have argued to my last breath that Enock had told me the truth. But after…” She left the words unspoken.

Christopher nodded, understanding clearly what she meant.

She let a moment pass before she spoke again. “When I finally helped him remove the jeans… his left thigh had the ugliest cut I had ever seen.” She cringed as though seeing it again.

“Did you take him to the hospital?”

Her head shook to the negative. “He wouldn’t go. Talked about the extra unnecessary cost it would bring on us. So in the end, I took care of his injuries. But that cut on his thigh had been outside first aid kit expertise. It healed… But it left a nasty jagged scar.”

He waited a moment, absorbing all she had said. Putting pieces together. Then he asked, “You told him you were expecting his child?”

“Yes… Right after I placed a bandaid on the last cut he had.”

“Your tone suggests his reaction was not all that… exciting?”

Jane chuckled dryly. “As excited as a chicken with a knife to its throat.”

“Ouch.” Christopher couldn’t imagine being that cold after discovering the woman he loved was carrying his child. “Maybe he was still disturbed about being jumped?”

“That was what I thought, too. I was desperate to grab and hold on to any excuse that made it less painful. Otherwise, I would have been forced to acknowledge that the man I loved looked like he was receiving a death sentence in court instead of news about the baby we had made.”

“You were what… six months along when he died? Didn’t he warm up to the idea with time?”

“He did. Even though he hinted a lot about how the timing was not great and how much responsibility it would be. And how young we both were.”

Christopher’s blood ran cold. “He wanted you to have an abortion?”

“He never said the words, but sometimes it felt like that was what he wanted.” She shrugged. “But he was there, supported me, rubbed my feet when they hurt. I thought all was well.” She shrugged again.

Christopher was trying to piece things together in his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened before the car accident?”

“I never paid attention,” Jane confessed and looked away. It was obvious it was a question she had asked herself too many times and never found the answers to.

The story was sad and left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. But Christopher had a pressing question to ask. “Do you still think he is alive? Or perhaps he is truly dead?”

Jane bit her lip before answering, “It is better he is dead… at least that way I have something good to tell his son.”

“Your son is very fortunate to have you as a mother, Jane.”

She didn’t think so, but didn’t argue.