Chapter 15

"Mom, why don’t you ever talk about Dad?" As though he didn't want to press too hard but couldn't conceal the curiosity that had been building in his eyes for weeks, Leo's speech was low, almost timid.

I grabbed for the cereal box and froze, my hand motionless. Except for my heart thumping in my chest and the hum of the refrigerator, the kitchen was silent. I couldn't ignore the simple and innocent question that made me feel something. Although I had anticipated the question, I had hoped they wouldn't ask it for a little while longer.

My chest felt constricted, but I forced a grin as I turned to face him. "Your dad… it’s complicated, sweetheart."

Leo nudged, "But you never even say his name," Mia, his twin sister, noticed the tension in the air and looked up from her sketching at the table. "Why are we unable to see him? What became of him?

I gulped forcefully, my thoughts racing. It was getting more difficult to uphold the lies I had told them and the half-truths I had concocted to shield them from the past. I couldn't continue to keep them from the reality since they were growing older and asking more insightful questions. The reality about Yemi, the decisions I had taken, and the secrets I had kept hidden from myself.

"Is it because of us?" With wide, innocent, yet observant eyes, Mia inquired. "Did something happen to us that made him go away?"

In an attempt to regain my composure, I inhaled deeply. Their words weighed me down like an anchor, drawing me into the depths of everything I had attempted to escape. However, I had to hide my weakness from them. I was unable to express to them how much the past still controlled me. For them, I had to be strong.

"No, honey," I responded, sounding more stern than I actually felt. "You're not to blame. Simply said, adults occasionally have issues that they are unable to resolve. We also make mistakes.

Leo cocked his head and furrowed his brows, but he didn't press. But Mia wasn't so easily placated.

"But you're still in love with him? "I can tell you do," she responded, her little voice containing a startling amount of comprehension.

My heart was pounding, and I hesitated once more, momentarily unsure of how to respond. With my own heart so broken, how could I communicate love to them? How could I describe how, despite everything that had transpired and the years of silence, I still felt the same way about Yemi? How could I explain to them that love wasn't always as easy as it seemed—that it may occasionally be messy, difficult, and painful to endure?

When I eventually uttered, "I… I care about him," the words seemed strange. However, some things are better off being in the past. No matter how hard we try, there are some things we cannot change.

Though there were still questions in their eyes, the twins appeared to accept this. I was grateful that they were too young to comprehend the full extent of it all. However, I knew in my heart that they would eventually ask for more information. They would have to know all I had buried under the burden of motherhood and the urge to keep them safe, everything I had kept concealed for so long.

After the twins went to bed later that evening, I perched on the edge of the couch and stared at the television screen, but I couldn't actually see it. I was too preoccupied, too engrossed in the discussions of the day. Mia and Leo were everything to me. When they were born, I had vowed to do all in my power to keep them safe. I had promised them a life devoid of my mistakes, one in which they would not be burdened by my history.

However, the barriers I had erected to protect my emotions were beginning to crumble. The pressure was growing every day, and I could feel it. The truth about Yemi, his motives for leaving, and all I had concealed was beginning to come to light. Furthermore, I wasn't sure how long I could hide it from them.

I snapped out of my reverie as I heard a knock on the door. It was late, too late for guests, I thought as I looked at the clock. I sensed a familiar coil of tension in my chest, and my pulse missed a beat. I knew exactly who it was, even though I wasn't expecting anyone.

Yemi.

I got up and walked to the door, my hands shaking a little. I hadn't spoken to him since that final acrimonious altercation, and I hadn't seen him in years. However, I had an instinct that told me that tonight would be the night that everything changed. The past would slam into the present tonight, and I would have to deal with the fallout from my decisions.

He was standing there when I carefully opened the door, my breath seizing in my throat. His eyes were cold and far away in a way that made my chest hurt, and his face was tougher now, with the lines engraved deeper into his features. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something else in his eyes that drew me in.

"Yemi," I remarked in a steady but quiet voice. "What are you doing here?"

He took a while to respond. Rather, he glanced behind me for a moment, as if to see if the twins were still conscious. His eyes were a mixture of regret and resolve when they met mine again.

He said, "I need to talk to you," in a quiet, almost frantic voice. "Almost everything. About what's been happening and why I left. You don't know everything, Dee. Things I didn't tell you.

A lump started to grow in my throat. Even though I had been anticipating this day for years, I wasn't sure I was prepared when it finally arrived. I wasn't sure I could control the deluge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me, and the floodgates were opening.

I took a deep breath. "Yemi, I'm not sure if I'm prepared for this. I'm not sure whether I can—"

He stepped closer and said, "You don't have to forgive me," his eyes somewhat softening. "I don't anticipate that. However, I need you to comprehend. I need you to understand my motivation. and the reason it hasn't ended. We're not done yet, Dee.

His words lingered between us, full with significance and assurances I wasn't sure I could still trust. The old emotions of desire, hurt, and hope returned to me as I gazed at him, the man I had once loved and the father of my children.

However, I hesitated because of something deep and protecting inside of me.

"What do you mean, ‘it’s not over’?" With hardly more than a whisper, I asked. "What does that even mean, Yemi?"

A louder, more urgent knock reverberated from the hallway before he could respond.

With a pounding heart, I looked at him. "Who is that?" With a shiver down my spine, I asked. It didn't feel quite right.

For a brief moment, Yemi's face wavered before he took a step back and his eyes darted to the door. His voice was low as he continued, "I don’t know," "But I think you’re about to find out."

Once more, the doorbell rang.