Love Carried by the Wind

My husband would kill for his first wife—even if it meant sacrificing our son.

I remember the horror clearly: he grabbed our little boy by the neck, and when I lunged to save him, he struck me down. When I woke up, our son’s lifeless body lay cold and still before me.

Two years passed in unbearable grief. And then, like a cruel trick of fate, my husband’s first wife appeared—alive.

But she wasn’t alone. Beside her stood my son, and my heart stopped. One of his eyes was gone.

My husband, David, stepped forward, hugging me and brushing a kiss on my forehead.

“Sarah, the truth is… he never really died. I just… performed a little trick.”

A trick? My stomach turned.

“And now,” he continued, smiling as if everything were fine, “my ex is well again, and our son is back. Isn’t this a happy ending?”

I couldn’t believe it. His ex had faked her death—all to steal our son’s eye for herself. Rage surged through me. I raised my hand and slapped David across the face.

“Get out! Anson doesn’t need a father like you!”

David stared at me in disbelief. I held my son tightly, tears streaming down my face.

I crouched down, looking into my son’s eyes.

“Anson… tell me the truth. Did Dad and this woman take your eye together?”

Before he could answer, David shoved me roughly to the ground.

“What are you saying? He’s my son! How could I ever take his eye?” David’s voice was sharp. “And Xena… don’t think I don’t know her. I was married to her longer than you’ve been in this house. Who are you to judge her?”

Our son ran to Xena’s side, pointing at me.

“You’re not my mom! You’re a bad person! Xena is my mom!”

David’s eyes flickered with panic, but he quickly forced it down. Xena knelt, cradling Anson, whispering sweet words to him.

I finally understood when they took my son years ago, he was just a little boy. Now, he had grown up seeing Xena as his mother.

I laughed bitterly at myself.

David walked over, holding me, nuzzling my ear in that familiar, intimate way.

“Sarah… Anson has always lived with Xena. He thinks of her as his real mom. You can’t blame her.”

“You call that ‘good care’?” I spat. “All these years, you didn’t tell him who his real mother is? And where is his eye, David?”

Xena stood before me, arms crossed, chin high, proud and unyielding.

“That’s not my fault,” she said. “Your son chose to give me his eye when he saw I was injured. Now he’s mine. If you want him back, you’ll have to take him yourself.”

I had dreamed of this day for years—having my son back, finally. Tears streaked my face as I opened my arms.

“Anson… come to Mommy.”