Fast forward two and a half years, and Nareigh was abuzz with the latest scoop. “Jonathan Lynn, the CEO of the Horizonlead Group, is back in town for a board meeting,” a reporter’s voice crackled over the radio.
“In just two years, he’s built a public company and a personal brand. At 29, he’s the youngest…” The reporter continued to list his achievements, but Teresa was only half-listening, her mind swirling with memories of the past.
The breaking news alert blared from the TV, and Teresa’s perfectly crisp apple slipped from her fingers, bouncing off the hardwood with a thud.
Her attention was laser-focused on the screen, where a man with a jawline that could cut glass and eyes that seemed to see right through the camera was the center of attention. His face was a mask of steely calm, determination etched into every line.
The media scrambled for a sound bite, but he wasn’t having it, dismissing them with a curt “No comments” before slipping into his sleek car. All that was left was the lingering image of his powerful silhouette as he drove away.
Feeling a whirl of emotions, Teresa realized it had been over two years since their divorce, and she hadn’t crossed paths with him since. Time seemed to have only enhanced his charm, making his presence even more electrifying.
He’d built an empire in the blink of an eye, and with the company’s recent IPO, it was printing money, raking in billions each year. His wealth had undoubtedly grown to immense proportions.
“Mommy, that man on TV is so handsome!” her child, Michael Johnston, piped up, lollipop stick poking out from between words, eyes wide with wonder.
Teresa, still reeling from the sight of Jonathan, responded without thinking, “Mr. Lynn!”
In the warmth of their small apartment, a tiny carbon copy of Jonathan, named Michael but affectionately called Mike, playfully mimicked Teresa with an endearing earnestness, exclaiming, “Mr. Lime!”
Teresa blinked away her wandering thoughts, her throat clearing a signal for action. “Come on, little man,” she said, switching off the TV with a click. “Time to scrub up. Dinner awaits.”
Michael’s lip curled into a pout, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. “More gruel?” The question was more of a plea than a complaint.
Teresa shot him a playful glare, one that spoke volumes about gratitude. “You’ve got a full plate, and that’s more than some get.”
But those eyes, sparkling with the innocence of youth, had a counterargument ready. “But other moms make yummy meals…”
Teresa’s eyebrow arched, a teasing grin playing on her lips. “Well, maybe you should go find one of those moms, because this one’s serving gruel tonight.”
With an exaggerated huff, Michael—nearly two and already a master of dramatics—prodded at his gruel.
Teresa’s world had just taken an unexpected twist after the divorce—she was pregnant, the baby already a few months in.
With her ex, Jonathan, long gone from Nareigh, she was on her own for this new adventure, her best friend Miriam by her side as her confidante.
Embracing the role of a single mom, Teresa welcomed her son into the world, a mini-Jonathan if ever there was one. He had his father’s looks and, to Teresa’s amusement, his neatnik tendencies. He steered clear of anything too strong-smelling.
Every time Teresa savored her gumbo, Michael’s face would contort into a mask of utter disgust.
“Live a little, just one bite,” she coaxed, nudging the bowl towards him with a playful smile.
“No way, that stuff is gross!” Michael retorted, his nose crinkling in protest.
Teresa chuckled, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “You’re your father’s son through and through.”
Michael’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he edged closer, his voice a hushed murmur. “So, what happened to my dad?” The question hung in the air, innocent yet probing.
Teresa, ever the cool one, grabbed a napkin to dab at her mouth. “Didn’t we cover this? Your dad’s history. Not my type.” She delivered the line with a straight face, but her eyes sparkled with mischief that Michael could almost taste.
Michael, the little comedian, shot back, “Then find me a new dad, pronto. One who can cook and is as handsome as that guy we saw on TV.”
Teresa choked on her surprise at his reply. Jonathan was a decent cook, but she wasn’t about to give him that credit.
Deep in thought about their conversation, Teresa was startled by her phone’s insistent buzz. She glanced at the caller ID and hit answer.
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