Sade knew he was right. She could have reached out, perhaps not as easily as Jeff was indicating, but there could have been some contact made. Over the years, countless letters stacked up on her desk addressed to his name. In the first year, the letters detailed all her feelings, her fears of rejection, details of their son. But as the years trickled by, slowly those feelings vanished from the pages and only descriptions of Jasper remained. At every moment, Jasper’s first smile, first word, first step, Sade found herself back at her desk, writing. Letters that would never be sent, because just as she was about to beckon her owl. Fear set in, and much like the other letters, they got stuffed back in the drawer. In other areas of her life, Sade could easily rush in without an ounce of care but when her son was involved, her worry tenfolded. Sade longed for nothing more than to bundle Jasper up in her arms and hide him from any rejection, which is exactly what she did.
“You did have a right to know.” Sade acknowledged, clearing her throat. Well aware that Jeff wouldn’t understand her fears or reasoning, not as he was processing the news of having a son and losing five years of his life. She opened her mouth to apologise, but closed it. Fearing sounding like a broken record, she stopped herself. “I wanted to tell you, I did.” Sade spoke, a quick glance down at Jasper to make sure he wasn’t paying full attention. Relieved to see him playing with a toy. “But how was I supposed to know where you were? I could barely wrap my head around what was happening, I didn’t know if you were in London or home. Things were hardly amicable.” She tried not to get defensive, and rather be understanding, but it was difficult. Sade was twenty-two, she had already been refused by her parents of any help, she simply did her best in a terrible situation.
