By Friday morning, I am still pissed. A tight ball of fury waiting to explode. So when the driver stops me in front of the mansion gate and the twins are not outside waiting for me, I nearly detonate. It takes a strangled sigh, another look at the rearview mirror where my eyes meet with the driver’s to see how red the tips of my ears have turned. And I drum my foot into the car until the tightness in my chest recedes.
Retrieving my phone, I double check to see if the text I sent was delivered. No surprises there. I haven’t made that mistake after that tantrum at her school. But my kids are nowhere near. That familiar anger claws at my jaw, I told her I would be here in two minutes and three minutes have passed without them.
Today is the first time I have to step out of the car to get them, when my feet meet the ground, a wave of nostalgia hits me. This used to be my home. Our home. Until I—we, no, she ruined it. She could have fought for us like she always did. Given me another chance, I would have done anything to keep my girls.
All three of them.
But it turns out a determined Elna Stark is an unstoppable one. She will crack once I slither my way into her life like I did the first time. I am going nowhere. She will always be mine. Her and the kids are mine.
The sensor at the giant gate picks up on my movements, maybe she did. I plaster a fake smile as the gate slides open and the twins burst out the front door. They stop to stare at me with identical mischievous smiles, I groan, those two are at it again. It’s one plot or the other, a scheme to get both of us in a place.
They want us back together. Ever since they understood our situation, they have worked hard at getting us back under the same roof. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t want the same thing as them but right now, all I can think of is my wife’s pretty lips parting to let out a moan for another man. A man she sent selfies of her naked self, whispered how much she missed him while touching herself. Who does that? Only her.
Against my better judgement, I rewatched that goddamn video, trying to figure out who the selfies went to. Torturing myself until sleep dragged me to a dreamless land. And she’s to blame for my crankiness.
I am operating on little sleep, pent up anger, rejection and I don’t need the kids pulling any cute shit today or anytime soon. Taking one step into the large compound, I spare a glance at the fountain in the middle, at least she maintains it. The smile on my lips remains, I work on making it more genuine. My babies can spot fake smiles from a mile’s radius, only positive and good vibes are allowed around them.
Brenwyn Elna Stark is the first one to run to me, curls bouncing as she jumps on me for a hug. I catch her midair, spin her around and her childish giggles chips the invisible blocks on my shoulders. She peppers kisses all over my face, I hoist her on my hip, her legs circle my waist and her arms lock around my neck.
Branwyn Amahle Stark leans on the door, legs crossed at her ankles, scowl on her face while watching Bren who tries for the umpteenth time to braid my hair. I think she might be the female version of me.
Cold and calculating.
I don’t know how to feel about that. Scared? Maybe. Anxious? Hell yeah. I am working on being the best role model to my girls but I don’t want them to be anything like me. Like their mother? Yes, please. She has to be the best person on earth, though she has grown a wild streak of late but Bren is just like her.
“Bran,” I say once I stop in front of her. Bren squirms in my arms, I release her and crouch to hold Bran’s hand. She yanks it from me, my lips press into a line. With her, you never know what to expect. “Bran.”
“Don’t call me Bran, it’s a boy’s name.”
Is it? If I hadn’t been under so much pressure to get names for the kids, I might have found fancier ones. Hearing her voice out my stupidity makes me wonder what I was thinking. Clearly, I wasn’t. I couldn’t have. I am not over the fact I was kicked out of the labour room on my wife’s order. We tried to make up for my poor choices with their middle names. Well, Elna did, that one was on her alone. As it has been.
I pry Bran’s fists open, tickling her until she wheezes with laughter. Unlike her mother, her resistance is weak. “What should I call you?” I ask and she slides her hands to my shoulders, grinning from ear to ear.
“Wyn,” they chorus. They look at each other and share a laugh, sending a pang through my chest at their open display of love. I’m not sure I had this, if I did, I have no memory of it but I intend to protect theirs.
Wyn is better than Bran? I direct my gaze to Bren who bounces on her toes. “Do you want me to call you something else too?” She shakes her head, I smile and rise to my feet. “Okay. Bren and Wyn?” They nod.
Their hair is in the pigtail braids I did the last time they were at my place and I strongly suspect Elna has something to do with it. I am still awful at it, they are never this neat but the thought of her remaking it for my sake causes love to spread through my chest. That woman loves me, her aloofness is a facade.
Wyn tugs on the tip of my tie, I look down. “Carry me.”
I lift her, she pinches my cheeks, displaying her gap tooth before hiding her face in my neck. These are the little gestures that remind me she’s not one hundred percent me and I like it. I stretch my free hand to Bren and make a turn. My business here is done, I have my girls for the next three days, we can leave.
“We have to kiss Mummy goodbye,” Bren says and I freeze. I should have known. They never give up but today, I will be breaking their little hearts. I resume walking, Bran—Wyn taps me and I stop. “Daddy?”
My heart melts.
When my girl says that word with her soft smile reserved for only me, I cannot refuse. I am whipped. If they ask for the world, I’ll give it to them without a second thought. The rest of us can go live on Mars.
“Okay.” Bren’s smile is contagious, I stare at the door expecting it to open. She should have heard us by now, if she didn’t, she should know they would want to see her one last time. “Where’s your mummy?”
“Don’t ask us, call her,” they chorus in a high pitched tone and giggle simultaneously.
Daddy’s little girls? Wrong. More like Daddy’s evil girls. A second goes by as I mull over their responses, should I reprimand them? I decide against it. Elna thinks I am too lax with them, the long essay she sent me about allowing them past their bedtime still lives in my head. It was a Friday night, they earned it.
Elna saves us from the awkward phone call, the door opens to reveal her in a long shirt that stops at her knees. She doesn’t look my way, I nod at the kids who jump out of my hands to hug her like they haven’t spent all week together. They never exude this happiness with me, or, do they? Who do they like more?
“Give Mummy a kiss,” Elna says, puckering her lips and the twins dutifully obey. I know a guy who would also love to give her a kiss. But it will be more than an innocent kiss, tongues will be involved; hands too.
A smile adorns my lips as they exchange farewells, I look away when my eyes start stinging. This is one of the rare moments I never witness, so pure and honest I want to tuck the memory somewhere special.
The kids bounce before their mother has a chance to ruffle their hair and the smile making its way to my lips disappears when Elna straightens up. I lost my speaking ability at her stare, those brown eyes draw me in, images of me kissing her flood my being, causing tingles all over my body. Shoving my hands into my pocket to conceal the tent growing in my slacks, I clear my throat but that seems futile. I can’t talk.
She reaches for the knob, my heart skips at her refusal to look at me. Even today? On other days, I might have waved her silence off but she is the only one who has ever cared about August fourteen. Granted, it was before I fucked up but it shouldn’t matter when I am standing in front of her. She made me come all the way here and I want to hear her say it to me even if her wishes are fake. I need to hear her voice.
Annoyance sinks its tentacles into me, I call out her name before I can stop myself. “El.”
Her eyes lift to my face. God. She’s still as beautiful as ever. It's almost too painful to look at her knowing she will never fully be mine again. My fingers itch to push her shirt up, to see if she’s naked underneath. To touch her in many places. Kiss her. I miss her body squirming under mine. How well she fits with me.
“Do you have something to say to me?” I whisper, praying she gets my unspoken reference. Recognition flashes across her face, she shakes her head and my mood sours. I am reminded of my lack of sleep, her shameless desire for another man. “Well, I have something to say to you.” Her brows shoot up in mockery, I shove my frustration down the pits of my mind. This is a childish move but I need to hear her sweet voice once. “I don’t want you putting that mouth you use to suck other men’s cock on my kids again.”
Elna has always had an expressive face, so I see all the emotions on display. The glaring hurt and quivering of her lips should have made me retract my comment but I don’t. I am slightly turned on. And the fact I want to bend her over and fuck her senseless until we both come rattles my nerves. For fuck’s sake, she forgot what today is but I still want her. I want her mouth on my dick. I want her sucking me off like it’s nobody’s business.
I take one last look at her forced smile and almost reach for her cheek, she deserves an apology. Instead, my head dips in a mock salute and I take off. It wasn’t my intention but we’ll both have to suffer for this.
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