Chapter 61 Who is your Dad?
All the blood drained from my face at her remark. My heart hammered against my chest as my stomach tightened to the point of pain. Gaping at her, I opened my mouth to talk, but no words escaped from it. I could only watch her without uttering a sound.
The rustling sounds from the leaves outside as the wind blew on them were louder than ever, almost as if I was standing by the tree.
"Mr Dashiell? You think the same, don't you???" River sounded eager. "I felt the same when I met him. He looks like he could pass as Willow's dad. I told her, but she didn't agree!"
"Shut up! He's not my daddy. He's a bad man. A dangerous man like Mum said he is. If there's anyone who should be my dad, it's Uncle Brion!" Willow argued, placing her hands on her waist as she glared at her brother.
"Miss Benita thinks the same, Willow. You are only saying this because you haven't met him. I'm telling you, he looks like you!" River insisted, looking like he wanted to drag her ears until she agreed with him.
I watched them, too frozen to say a word. My hands felt sweaty, and my throat was so dry that swallowing was difficult. For the first time, I feared I might not keep my secret for a long time.
"Yeah. You look like him." Benita reached out to touch her cheeks. "If I don't know better, I would have thought Mr Dashiell is your father. But that's impossible. Right, Nova?" She looked at me with a smile, getting to her feet.
Blinking, I forced a smile to hide how nervous I felt, praying none of them could tell what was going on with me at the moment. "Yeah." Nodding, I moved, walking over to the kitchen to escape her gaze. "Why the hell would you have such an opinion?" I laughed nervously, waving his words off, and acting like I wasn't seeking a hiding place. I needed to get out of the sitting room as fast as possible, to avoid answering questions that might go on a path I didn't want it to walk on.
"Then, who's the father?" She demanded.
I stopped mid-walk and turned to face her, the anxiety I felt turning into a fit of full-blown anger, like an inferno ready to erupt at any moment. I forgot how nervous I felt at the prospect of my secrets being found out. At the moment, her question infuriated me. She had no damned right to ask something so personal when we barely knew each other.
Though I thought of her as a friend, I would never ask questions I knew would make her uncomfortable. I know my boundaries even though she didn't know her.
"Do you assume you are entitled to know my personal affairs after knowing me for a few weeks?" I gritted out, clenching my fists as I narrowed my eyes at her. Stifling my anger was difficult, but I had to do that, only letting out a fraction of what I actually felt. "You have no damned right to question me, Benita. Know your damned boundaries!"
She seemed to have realized what she did wrong because she gulped, drawing a step back as she whispered, "I apologize for that, Nova. I was carried away and wasn't thinking properly. I apologize for it." She lowered her head. "I need to leave."
She grabbed her purse and raced out of the house, taking her shoes with her.
It wasn't until I heard the small gate closing that I relaxed. Though I didn't feel as good as I was a few minutes ago. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I retraced my steps to the couch and plopped down on it, only realizing when I did so that the entire place was silent.
Frowning, I glanced at my babies who were looking at me with confused stares while Mara looked concerned.
"Are you okay?" Her voice was gentle, almost as if she were scared of spooking me.
Nodding, I forced a smile. "I'm good. You don't have to worry about it. I just... It's okay." Getting confronted like that took me by surprise, making me react poorly to it. I never counted on getting asked such a question. At least not by someone who barely knew me.
"I will make hot milk for you. It will help you relax," Mara offered. Beaming, she hastened into the kitchen to make the milk for me, leaving me alone with my babies.
"What's wrong?" I smiled at them, opening my arms so they could hug me. "Why do you have funny expressions on your faces? Come on, Mum wants to hug you."
They didn't come close like I expected them to. Instead, they watched me, their frowns deepening the more they stared at me. It was my first time seeing such expressions on their faces, and it alarmed me, though I tried to conceal it.
"Come on. Why are you still staring at me? Give mummy a hug."
"Who is our dad, mum?" River whispered, peering at me with an intense glare, one that made me sit up.
The smile on my face disappeared. Gulping, I watched them, robbed of my ability to talk. I couldn't even utter a sound if I wanted to.
"You told us we were special, and our dad went to a faraway place," Willow said, her expression mirroring her brother. "Where is he? Did Miss Benita tell the truth? Is our Dad Mr Dashiell?"
I was speechless. I had to pinch my right cheek to be certain I wasn't dreaming. There was no way my five-year-olds, who would be six in a month, would be this intelligent. I knew they were exceptional, but not to this extent. What happened to kids being concerned with their meals and having ice cream?
"Mum, where is our dad? Uncle Brion said you will tell us when the time is right. What does he mean by that?" River continued, this time looking like the child he should be.
"Oh!" I chuckled, running my fingers through my hair as I tried to think of a way out of this. Obviously, it would not be as easy as I thought it would be. Not with them looking so serious. "Come on, darling. You don't have to mind what Benita said. I know Willow looks a lot like Me Dashiell, but he's not your father! How can someone like that be related to you? Impossible." I lied, praying it doesn't come back to bite me in the arse. "Don't worry, I will let you meet your dad soon," I promised.
"Really??!" They perked up at that, grinning. "You will do that?!"
"Of course." Still smiling, I spread my arms, and they rushed over and hugged me. "Have I ever deceived you? I will surely give you a father."
It was time for that. Even if it meant making Brion the father, I would gladly do that. No other man was qualified for the role. That's if he chooses me. Sorry, us. I came with a lot of luggage, one he might not wish to be burdened with.