Jena stepped in under the shower and gloried on the hot spray of water cascading on her skin. She hadn't done much physically today and yet she still felt exhausted.
Reaching for the bar of soap, she started on cleaning and scrubbing the day's dirt off her body as she let her mind drift on the events of the day. Having done so, she set her lips into a grim line and let out another frustrated sigh.
Sam's growing too fast, and the day that he would really ask about his father was coming sooner than she had expected. Her son acted too old for his age, and she worried. She loved Sammy so much that it would hurt her to lie to him, but lie she must if that would stop him from asking too much questions she wasn't prepared to nor she wanted to answer in the first place.
She had already made Sam believe that his father was dead— died before he was born. It was a lie of course. The truth was that Jena had no idea who his father was.
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