My Secret Baby

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The past bears regrets for each of us. Some deep ones, others just mild or silly ones that we can laugh at. I hold a regret that still remains a secret. A deep, dark and twisted secret that I have sworn will follow me to my grave.

I got married in early 2000. I was 27-years-old and my husband was 30. My first-born came along a year later and my second, after two years. My husband, an Australian, was in finance and making enough for me to enjoy being a stay-at-home mom. But I remained firm in my decision to continue in my line of real estate. Although the hours were odd and long, and many a times I would only return home after the girls were both already tucked in, I still wasn’t ready to give up my job.

In 2005, after my husband and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, I felt my marriage fizzing out. Don’t get me wrong, though. My husband *Robert, is one of the most wonderful men I have ever met. Flowers, chocolate, champagne, were little surprises that I would find around the room to brighten my day. However, I was getting a tad bored about the whole family life that had been weaved up to that point. I begin to consider applying for a job overseas to stay for about a year to rid myself of the ‘beautiful family’ pantomime that I was forced to be part of. I thought about it and begin searching and tried to work up the nerve to let the family know my plan. I knew I had to do it. That is, until I met *Jake.

My Achilles heel

The dimpled smile, the deep voice, the mysterious eyes, the chiselled jaw - Jake looked like a walking Greek God. He wanted a condo in Bukit Timah and I went to great lengths to find the one apartment he would be satisfied with. As we met more to see various apartments, I realised two things. 1) He would always meet me earlier so we could grab a cuppa. 2) I made it a point to clear about an hour or 2, before and after any appointment with him. I guess I was subconsciously waiting for him to make a move! He finally settled on a sexy two bedroom in Upper Bukit Timah. As the necessary papers were being signed, I could not help feeling a pang of jealousy at a conjured image of the lucky witch that would eventually be sharing the pad with him.

Jake and I had opened up to each other in the previous weeks and he had told me in detail about himself. He was 36-years-old. His mother was Lebanese and his father, British. He had lived in different parts of England since young. He was posted here from his job over there and had been rather excited about his trip here. His aim in Singapore was to study the culture, learn more about the fusion of the West and East ideals created by the locals here and try to find a companion. I had told him about myself as well, the kind of growing up I had experienced, my school days, etc. But I held back on the whole marriage thing. I didn’t think he had to know about that. I always removed my ring anyway when I met male clients as I seemed to sell better with my ring off!

A week later, I visited Jake to see how well he had settled in. He had prepared a wonderful spread for dinner and as we dined, we spoke about our dreams and desires. As we were having dessert, he took my hand, looked into my eyes and placed something with his other hand in my palm. Looking down, I saw a key. “It’s yours, Jess. I’m not going to force you to move in or anything but I want you to know that you have a place here and if you would even consider it, I’ll be ecstatic,” he whispered. He would be ecstatic?! I was over the moon by the last word of his sentence! But at that moment, the ugly picture of my family crept into my mind. My heart wanted Jake but my stupid sensible mind knew that I had to give up one. And that one could not be my family.

I reached a compromise with Jake. I visited him most weekday evenings but I didn’t stay over. In all form of rarity, I would spend the night with him, giving the excuse to my husband that I was spending the night with one of my girlfriends. Robert was never one to check up on me so I knew I didn’t have to let any of my girlfriends in on this. As much as I tried, I couldn’t get rid of the guilt whenever I saw Robert smiling down on me or giving me a squeeze. To make up for it, I would sleep with him immediately the following night and we went at it like two wild animals. I - out of the guilt. Robert - out of the sheer desire of being with his wife.

After two months, Jake decided to go back home for Christmas and asked me to follow him. I bailed out by lying to him about the big projects that I was involved in. Whilst he was there, shock arrived in the form of a home pregnancy test. I was pregnant. The uncertainty of whose baby it was, grew bigger as the baby grew in me. Jake was due to return a few days after Christmas and I had to make a choice by then. Leave everything and be with him and the new baby or leave him and have the baby as part of the family. As both Robert and Jake, were Caucasians, I knew neither would know the truth when the baby was born. I made a decision and changed my handphone number.

It has been two years since the birth of my son, Aiden. As I type this, Aiden plays by my feet and looks up at me with a set of beautifully lashed eyes. The same eyes Jake used to look at me with.


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