Mummy, We Need Daddy

"Who is our father, Mummy?" David inquired, his naive tone breaking the stillness of the living room.

I went cold. The question hung in the air with far more weight than I had anticipated. From their seats on the couch, two sets of wide eyes, David's and his twin sister Dara's, peered at me with anticipation, their little features contorted with interest.

I looked at the time. It was just ten in the morning. Even though the day had only started, I immediately felt as though it was choking me.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

A teasing smirk twisted David's lips. "We've had this question for a while. You never mention him, but you always talk about grandma and grandpa.

I let out a trembling laugh. Even though I had been dreading this day for years, I didn't think it would arrive so quickly, let alone today. The twins were growing up quickly, and they were asking more pointed and persistent inquiries. They were demanding the truth and were no longer content with evasive responses.

I bit my lip to keep their interested eyes off me. "You know, I promised you both we’d talk about this when the time was right."

They glanced at each other, obviously not impressed by my avoidance.

"Mummy, is he coming to see us?" Dara inquired in a gentle, hopeful tone.

My chest began to ache. How was I going to tell them? The reality was much too complex for kids their age.

"No," I murmured softly, averting my gaze from their features. Instead, I tried to force the torrent of recollections that threatened to overwhelm me back into the back of my mind by looking out the window.

For years, I had kept the truth to myself. Even after ten years of meticulously crafted falsehoods and concealment, they were still able to catch a peek of it. They were intelligent, sometimes too intelligent for their own benefit. It appeared that the past was catching up to me and making its way to the surface whether I was ready for it or not. I had believed that I could keep them safe and shelter them from the complex mess that was their father.

David remained unfazed. "But, Mummy, why isn't he here? Is he far away?

I inhaled deeply. The room's air was oppressively heavy. I tried to speak as evenly as possible as I said, "He's not in our lives anymore." "He departed a long time ago. It's just the two of us now.

It was just partially true. Yemi Black had not truly "disappeared." Somewhere, he was still enjoying his life, prospering in a way that only the wealthiest, most prosperous men could. I had no trouble imagining him—tall, black, the type of man who turned attention everywhere he went. And that was the issue. He embodied all of my fears: danger, allure, and unpredictability.

The type of man who, without hesitation, would completely upend your life.

David scowled. "Mummy, why don't you want to discuss him?"

Even though I could feel the truth weighing down on my chest, I resisted giving in. Not quite yet. They were not prepared to learn their father's identity.

However, I realized I couldn't continue to avoid it as their eyes grew confused and hurt.

"How about we grab some ice cream?" My voice a bit too bright, I proposed. "All right, let's discuss it in more detail later."

Despite their lack of conviction, the twins nodded, indicating that they were eager to get the tension out of the room. The truth lingered in the air, even though I was glad they didn't pursue it further.

After putting the kids to bed that evening, I sat in the dark living room and stared at my phone. Yemi's number, which I had stored in my contacts for years, glared back at me like a challenge.

Even though I had blocked him once, he managed to get past the barriers I had painstakingly built. Even after all these years, I couldn't get rid of the notion that he was still a menace since he had previously entered my life.

My thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell rang. My heart skipped a beat as I leaped. I didn't think anyone would show up.

With caution, I opened the door, but nobody was there. However, there was a box on the doorstep. A little one, with a note attached, wrapped in black tissue paper.

As I unfurled the note, a shiver went down my spine.

"I still remember you. Y.

As I read the letter, my fingers shook. Years have passed. Yemi was back, making his presence known, even though I hadn't seen or spoken to him in years.

As I tried to catch my breath, I slammed the door shut. This cannot be taking place. Not right now.

I took another look at the packaging. I wanted to know more, but I was afraid. What was he contemplating? After all this time, what was it he wanted?

My phone buzzed before I could determine whether to open it.

I looked down.

a message from an unidentified number. Even though the message was straightforward, it deeply affected me:

"Dee, I am aware of what you are concealing. I'm coming for it, too."

I read the message again with shaking hands. It felt like the room was spinning. What was happening?

And why had I always felt that Yemi was observing me?

Throwing the phone aside, I snatched up the package and tore it open. There was just one key inside. A key to what?

Another tap on the door came before I had had time to consider the ramifications. With my heart pounding, I froze.

Is he the one? After all these years of stillness, would he finally knock on my door?

I inhaled deeply, bracing myself for whatever was about to happen.

However, there was nobody present when I opened the door. Only the night's blackness and the quiet buzz of the world going on.

Then I noticed the smallest headlight flash in the distance. A automobile, speeding toward it.

I felt the weight of the key in my hand. a commitment to something I wasn't ready for.

And I realized right then that I had lost control over the past. Yemi had returned.