UNFORGIVENESS

𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣 𝖣𝖤𝖦𝖱𝖤𝖤

life was perfect.

Jax became VP of the club sooner than he thought possible at the tender age of twenty. When Otto Deleny got a life sentence, Jax had to step up; he took to it like a duck to water, and the increase in club money was because of his officer rank and custom business at TM. We were able to buy our first house. The house was only a 10-minute drive from the clubhouse. A single-story ranch-style home with three bedrooms, two baths, a garden, and a small pool. Gemma threw herself into helping me renovate it into my dream home, and Jax gave me endless cash to get the house finished within three months of us getting the keys. The night we moved in, Jax made a joke about us trying for a baby, and I laughed.

I think I became pregnant that first night. A few months later, Abel Thomas Teller was born, with the same genetic heart defect his father and his grandmother had, and in true Teller fashion, my tiny baby boy defined all the odds and grew stronger and stronger each day. At four years old, he was running rings around me and he was the apple of Jax's eye.

We were the perfect little family, and we loved each other deeply.

As I held the photograph in my hands, memories flooded back of the day my father, Bobby, had given it to me. It was a bittersweet gift, as Dad slid the picture across the cold metal table in the visiting room. I smiled for a moment as I picked it up, The image captured a moment of happiness, frozen in time, but also served as a painful reminder of what I had lost. I ran my fingers over the faces smiling back at me, Abel was only four years old when I was sentenced and I knew that I would not get the chance to raise him. My only hope was that he would know that I was his Mother and that I loved him more than life itself.

"I'm so sorry, baby; it was a club vote. It has to be this way. After what you did," my father said with a sob before he left. His eyes couldn't meet mine, he was ashamed of me. His little girl had let him down in the worst possible way.

My mind was abruptly pulled back to the present as the cell door slid open, revealing a figure "Let's go, Munson," barked the short, fiery-haired guard known as Ronny.

I followed Ronny's lead, navigating through the prison halls and into a room where I was told to change. I obediently changed into a pair of donated jeans, a shirt, and an oversized coat that were left on the metal table. Before being escorted to the glass window, a stout man behind the glass handed me another plastic bag with the things they had taken off me when I had arrived in this hell hole all those years ago. My engagement ring, my locket with my mother and father's photo inside, and a toy Hot Wheels dingy car. The stout man then handed me my meager government subsidy allowance of 40 dollars and silently waited for a thank-you as if he had loaned me the money out of his wages. It took a second before I did indeed express my thanks. Even though I had the urge to throw the money back at him, my upbringing screamed at me not to be rude.

My heart began to bang in my chest as I watched my parole officer, Vince Cross, complete the release process. There was now only one set of bars to be opened before I was out of the building. I lifted my chin in greeting as the bars slid open, and Vince handed the paperwork and the pen back to the officer. Vince didn't say anything to me as he moved to the door. Vince wasn't a very tall man or scary-looking considering he watched over some of the hardest-core criminals up for parole, but he seemed to demand the utmost respect, and I was willing to give him what he wanted if it meant getting out of this hell hole. I couldn't shake the feeling of despair that lingered in the pit of my stomach as I followed Vince toward the mental gate that had confined me for a decade.

As the gate swung open, I didn't feel the rush of freedom I had anticipated. Instead, I was overwhelmed by a sense of fear and loneliness that gripped my throat tightly. There was no one there to welcome me on the other side-no family or friends. I knew deep in my soul that there wouldn't be a welcome back from Jax or even Abel after all. My little boy was a teenager now and wouldn't know me, but I guess I had stupidly hoped that when I finally got to this day, my father and brother could show me some grace. With a heavy heart, I hoisted the bag onto my shoulder and prepared to leave the only home I had known for so long. As I walked out of the gate onto the parking lot, the weight of my past mistakes hung heavy on my shoulders, but the love for my son and the determination to one day be reunited with him gave me the strength to keep moving forward, one step at a time.