Elijah carried his son to the bus stop. The summer heat hasn’t greeted the morning just yet and the drizzle that came in the early hours of the morning carried a cool breeze. The cardigan he’s wearing might be a clothing he’ll undressed as the day progresses but, for now, he seeks the warmth it can provide.

He checked his time on his phone and relieves at the hour and thirty minutes left before school starts. Elijah slips his phone back into his pocket, firmly holding his little boy on his chest and felt Matteo’s nose lightly poking on his neck, breathing into his scent. There was a sigh that came after such action, leaving Elijah somewhat undecided if whether he’ll nudge his son’s head away from his neck or leave it be at the moment.

It was ticklish, however, not enough to cause any sort of annoyance.

He sat down on the plastic bench as he arrived at the bus stop – satisfied at its deserted state. Elijah begins to position his son better on his lap. The tiny backpack has been taken off from his son’s shoulders, letting it hang around Elijah’s forearm as he maneuvered his little boy to rest against his chest. The whining was an expected reaction but it mellowed down into silence.

Elijah faced the road, watching the cars passed by slow. The motorcycles, as always, tries to squeeze into spaces they can find and escape the traffic while the rest condemned the action with jealousy and frustration. It might remind him of Adam for some reason but he assumed vehicles have ended up as an association with the man himself than anything else.

His phone vibrated and Elijah took it out from his pocket, looking into the screen to identify the caller. It was Lisa and he was reluctant to accept it. Fortunately, the ringtone was silenced but the vibration would be hard to ignore if he leaves it at that.

His thumbs over the red button to indicate his refusal. It wasn’t like his ex-wife was unaware of his morning commute with Matteo being vocal on his avoidance towards the pair after their beach trip. There was nothing he could do to change his son’s mind and she simply agreed if it’s only done once.

Once, Elijah thought, and sighs again.

There will be other opportunities to change his phone into silent mood. As for today, Elijah reluctantly agreed, pressing his phone against his ear and listens.

“Are you at the bus stop, Eli?” Lisa asked, sounding meek.

“Yeah,” Elijah answered, “Why? Are you gonna pass by it?”

“Would it be a bad thing if I said yes?” Panic was clear underneath her voice. Another voice intervenes the conversation with whispers Elijah can’t comprehend nor listen carefully. But he didn’t ask about it and he doesn’t want to, knowing his ex-wife – her soulmate is probably right beside her, driving.

“Matteo’s asleep right now,” Elijah goes back to the topic and hope she does the same too. “I’m not so sure if you can possible change route.”

“That’s fine by me. I still want to see you,” she assured Elijah and hears the window rolls down in the background. “Look to the right.”

He did what was told and stares at his ex-wife waving at him. The traffic had miraculously dissipated enough for the vehicle to pass by smoothly, with Elijah’s eyes still glued to the misery clear on her face. She was wearing her scrubs, as far as he can tell by the upper portion of her shirt and her ponytail.

The window began to roll upward and Elijah only sitting still, his phone in his grasp with the sound of the engine getting louder as the car drove faster.

-

They entered the school grounds. Matteo had finally awoken during their commute and was holding Elijah’s hand as they went towards the campus. The entrance was crowded with children and their parents, with a few teachers lingering in the hall. The red strings of fate were an abundant sight in certain areas and school was a building it’s populated with.

Children wasn’t exactly a proof of the fate’s success but it does hold some sort of relevance on how the relationship progresses. Matteo was sadly a product outside the string’s intention and his existence spread across the children who then tell their parents who will eventually gossip with their peers. The eyes aimed at Elijah’s back but it couldn’t pierce through the wall he has for today. He was more overwhelmed by the results of the weekend than the prying eyes and ears from the adults huddling close to one another.

The teachers weren’t any differently, unfortunately.

Matteo holds a contrasting reaction to the attention. “Papa, they are watching us,” his son tells him with a loud whisper and tighten his grip on Elijah’s fingers. Matteo breaks the space in between him and Elijah’s leg, hiding behind the tall figure of his father.

“It’s okay, Matteo,” Elijah tries to soothe out his son’s concerns, “they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them hurt my little boy.”

Matteo stayed quiet after that, loosening his grip on Elijah’s hand and holds onto his dad’s pants instead. Elijah had to adapt for his son’s sake, walking around with a limp and moves in a pace slower than before. He placed a hand on his son’s head, caressing the top while brushing down the unruly strands.

Matteo’s classroom was on the first floor of the building but was on the other side of the entrance. Elijah had to be wary at the children playing around the hallway and almost disrupt on a game that takes up the entire space.

Eventually, they both reach the front door of the classroom with Miss Rosie next to it. Elijah gazes at her and she instantly became aware of him. She shows off a smile and a loud greeting when she came to their side.

“Good morning, Sir Ocampo!” Miss Rosie then bent down to face Matteo who didn’t shy away from her attention. “Good morning to you too, Matteo!”

“Good morning, Miss Rosie!” Matteo exclaimed then giggled as she boop his nose.

“There’s a kid named Christian that’s waiting by your desk, Matteo,” Miss Rosie mentions and grinned at the shock Matteo expressed. Elijah smiles at the reaction and let go of his son’s hand, knowing Matteo would dash out of the hall to be where his friend is.

“Ah! Papa, I have to go now!” It didn’t take a second for Matteo to eventually leave him. His little boy didn’t wait for an answer and Elijah wasn’t expecting any. He only looks to the entrance door of the classroom, disappointment at the barrier that breaks his view of his son and the friend he’s making.

Nevertheless, he’s putting all of his faith at the bond to never break.

“I didn’t expect you to bring Matteo, Sir Ocampo,” Miss Rosie said her shock at the situation and Elijah sighs, even nodding as an answer. “Ma’am Lisa didn’t notify about it.”

“Just something happened with the family and Matteo wants me instead, that’s all,” Elijah explained, as vaguely as he could. Her curiosity was replaced by the sympathy she displays on her face, frowning at his statement and glances to the classroom.

The bell rang and the children went inside their classrooms. A child came out of the entrance door of Matteo’s classroom, dashing away with his eyes looking at Elijah – the kid was probably Christian. Elijah waves at the boy and Christian responded back with a nod.

“Well, I’d like a notification on who’s going to fetch Matteo this afternoon, Sir Ocampo,” Miss Rosie requested.

“Sure,” Elijah answers and began to take to his leave out of the campus. There weren’t any students left in the hall and the sight of teachers have become scarce due to the time. So were the parents, leaving to those who sat in their own clique and gossip at the school grounds.

Words were thrown at his direction, all of it whispers that weren’t quiet nor loud. But enough to catch his attention. Awful, distasteful nicknames that plagued his walk and Elijah merely shrugs at it all.

“… if it weren’t for that whore to knock herself up, she wouldn’t have given birth to an omen.”

Elijah stagnated his progress, letting his seconds be wasted at the statement he heard about his ex-wife. He gulps, once, blinking at the stings he feels from his eyes and the tightness that wraps around his throat. His heart clenched at the insult nonchalantly talked about, more so at the laugh that couldn’t be silenced.

He clenched his fists, slipping it all into the pockets of his pants. He takes a step, one at a time, exposed himself to the sun a little longer than necessary. The heat could distract him for a moment, often times concentrating at the complaints he says under his breath. For now, the only worry he has is a heat stroke.