The car is eerily silent when I join the twins. They huddle close to the door like they are trying to create a gap between us. I glance at the driver, eyes querying him but he only shrugs and I massage my forehead. The point of picking them up with a driver is to avail us enough time together without any distractions.
“Hey,” I say and stretch my hand to them.
Eyeing my limb warily like it’s not the part of me that carried them a while ago, they shake their heads and look out the window. Their movements are choreographed, the crossing of their arms on their chest and the pouts that take over their lips while ignoring me for a crime I know nothing about. I give the command for the driver to start the car and we glide down the road in silence until I clear my throat.
“Bren. Bran.” Her head angles in my direction slowly. “Wyn.” She gives me a thumbs up and I snigger.
Where did she learn that? Most importantly, why are they upset with me? It is easie
“Do you like it?” she asks. I scoff, like? No, I love it and I say that out loud with a smile that makes my cheeks ache. It is almost the same as the one their mother gifted me. My first birthday gift without the usual sentiments attached to it, I miss her. The words are the same: Best daddy in the world but with a wink. I turn the mug upside down to get a better look at it and the new addition of my title for them: Daddy’s little girls at the bottom has me grinning sheepishly. I might have bawled my eyes out if they weren’t staring expectantly at me, I force myself to smile. To remind them how much I love them. I don’t understand how I lived without them. We are approaching their school gate when I ask, “How was your week? Did anything fun happen?” With a pointed look at Wyn, I say, “Did you try anything nice again?” She offers her most innocent smile, the shaking of Bren’s head is what truly convinces me of the little experimentalist’s i
She is not picking my calls. Straight to voicemail. Fuck my life. Enzo stops the car a few miles from the gate on my instruction. I haven’t told a lie in a long time but my fingers swipe across the screen and I do exactly what I have sworn never to do. I lie. I lie using my kids so my wife can reply me and she does. El: The girls are fine. I just got off the phone with their class teacher, what do you want? That stings. I stare at the text, hurt. The brusqueness of it all, her dismissal like her world didn’t revolve around me once and my heart squeezes painfully I have to place a hand on my chest. But what right do I have to complain when I shamed her minutes ago? Don’t put your lips on my kids? What I was thinking. They are our kids, she has done a great job of raising them and should be rewarded with praises instead. It’s partially her fault. She provoked me into blurting out those words. There were kids in the house and all she cared about was
El’s statement unleashes a mountain of fury inside me as she had hoped it would. That tiny smirk when she shooed me confirmed her victory. And that lace. She’s wearing lace with a matching thong for a man that is not her husband. Even had the gall to wish me a happy birthday after chasing me with blue balls. I never want to hear those words again, even from the twins. There’s nothing happy about this birthday, about being unwanted by your wife. Or, watching regret flee into her eyes because she kissed you. I shift in my seat while scouring the web for a profile of this T, the scrawny guy I gave little thoughts to. He is not her type. He is nothing like me and I am her type. Yes, he cares, maybe a little too much but no guy stays long in her life. With the twins’ help and my brilliant ideas, it is easy to frustrate them. If they are frustrated enough to leave then they don’t deserve to be in her life. Am I the deserving one? Yes. A page comes up on T. He’s rich, so am
Kids are great until you find them in your kitchen, hair doused in egg yolk and fingers sticking into big bowls of what I hope is flour not sugar. I rush to Wyn before she cracks another egg open, snatching her off the ground and she giggles. Bren looks less of a mess but her hair and body are covered in white as if she bathed in flour. Setting Wyn on the island, I repeat the gesture with Bren, keeping a reasonable gap between them so they don’t have a chance to conspire again. They send each other a look and smile.Standing between them, I grab the edge of the island and ask, “What were you doing?” My gaze darts between Wyn and Bren, I have a feeling all of this started with Wyn and I arch a brow at her. The cutie giggles to reveal her gap tooth, I shake my head. No, not working. “Wyn?” She pouts. Okay, it’s working but she doesn’t have to know that. “Brenwyn?” I point to the bowls. “What were you doing with that?&r
Joshua is at the door. My brother is at the door, grinning at me like we are best friends. “Hey,” Joshua says and it earns him a scowl from me. Laughing, he runs his fingers through his hair, I get a view of his knuckles, I don’t understand his choice of tattoo or a need for one in general. Instead of ushering him in, I step out and close the door behind me. He lifts a brow. “Hey. What are you doing here?” I wince at how harsh I sounded, clearing my throat, I say, “I mean, why are you here?” “Wow, Brandon.” He pats my shoulder while shaking his head, I cringe. I didn’t mean to sound that way, he never visits me at home. “Good to see you too.” He points a finger at his chest, his voice lowers in an imitation of mine. “Good to see you, Josh. I missed you, maybe one of the days we should catch up.” The laughter that follows fails to hide the pain in his words, my hands fall to my sides, I straighten up to stare down at him. “You want to catch up?”
My car grinds to a halt in front of the girls school. Their arms wrap around me from behind, hair tickling my skin as they smother me with kisses I return with equal fervency. I release them so they can get their bags, heart thudding and chest tightening at the realisation I will not be seeing them until the weekend. Craning my neck to give them final kisses to their cheeks, I murmur, “Love you two.” The backdoor opens, my insides clench painfully, the weekend went so fast. “Love you too, Daddy.” They don’t get out of the car, I glance at them through the rearview mirror. Bren nudges Wyn with her elbow, a frown meets my lips and my worry evolves into something bigger. They are hiding something. “Daddy?” Bren speaks up when Wyn doesn’t, I unfasten my seatbelt and join them at the backseat. Wyn closes the door, Bren climbs to my laps while fiddling with my tie. I grab her hand to stay her movement, my lips move into a smile at how ridiculous
The hall is sectioned into rows with chairs clumped together on each side of the wide gap at the centre, the tall windows provide natural light that casts shadows on the floor. Parents file in quietly, I occupy the seat beside El, she stiffens but relaxes seconds later. The PTA president moves to the podium, after a brief introduction, she switches to the reason for the meeting. I try and fail to pay attention, eventually tuning her out. How can I not? My beautiful wife is by my side, not scowling or frowning at me, just seated with a ghost of a smile on her lips. It almost feels like old times, only that I would have held her hand. Without thinking, I lace our fingers, stifling the urge to laugh at the deadly glare she shoots me. Elna is always civil to me in public, almost nice and this place counts as one, I will be stupid to miss my chance of touching her again. She twists her arm in an attempt to pull out of my grasp but I only tighten my hold on her
Light filters in through the blinds, casting shadows on the wall opposite the window. Ava nudges her glasses up her nose, a patient smile on her lips. The brown-skinned lady has been all smiles since my arrival. Her thick locs cascading down her shoulders give me the impression she’s better suited as a palm reader than this. A con artist who robs people of their hard earned money with fake, empty promises. I hope she proves me right so I can walk out of this room with a stronger conviction that therapy is shit.We assess each other silently. The ceiling fan continues rolling undisturbed, she pulls her jacket around her, I frown at her increasing smiles. Joshua didn’t inform me she smiled this much. To be fair, I didn’t tell him I would contact his therapist. Hell, I didn’t know I would be here until I found myself in front of the building. El sounded hopeful when I mentioned therapy, it’s largely why I am here. For someone who is having an unexpe