I wake with a splitting headache, rubbing the back of my hand against my eyes, I place a kiss on Brianna’s forehead with a promise to visit often. The month is almost over and it is my first time here. I should check on her frequently but it’s hard seeing her lifeless body every time, being unable to do anything.
The shirt at the foot of the bed catches my eyes, I look around for what I know is not there. A trashcan. I tuck the shirt under my armpit, stroll to Brianna’s wardrobe and pull out an old t-shirt of mine. It smells like whiskey and old shirt but it’s better than walking around the house in only a stained white singlet.
My fingers press to my temple, I gently massage the spot until the headache subsides. I exit the room after a glance at the bed. A jolt of pain stabs my insides at the silence, I amble down the corridor with my head cast down. I don’t know, I guess a part of me expected she would have waved or something.
It’s stupid. Hope is stupid but I keep on hoping, it is all I have got now. I pat my pockets for my phone to give Enzo a call, groaning when my search comes up empty. It’s in the car. Voices at the corner stop me.
Kids’ voices. I check the time. Shit. I have been here long enough for them to have returned from school. I skip to the kitchen in a desperate attempt to dispose my shirt. To my relief, the kitchen is empty, I find a paper bag and dump it inside. I am one foot out the door when the twins come running past the kitchen.
They screech to a stop, their heads simultaneously turn in my direction. “Daddy? Is that you?” Wyn asks. Her doll drops to the floor, she swipes her hand against her eyes. Jumping on me, she screams, “Daddy.”
Bren snaps out of her shock, her arms tighten around my waist and my arm slips around Wyn’s waist to steady her. Wyn rubs her nose against mine, I chuckle. Their laughter eases the ache caused from seeing Brianna, I lower Wyn to the ground and peck her. Bren yanks the hem of my shirt, I squat in front of her.
“Your shirt is smelling,” she whispers into my ear, biting her lip like she didn’t want to tell me. My head falls back with laughter, I flick a finger over her forehead and her mouth drops open in shock. “Daddy!”
Wyn squints at me, her cute face contorted into a mild look of confusion. She shakes her head, I bet she has no idea what happened but it involves her twin so she moves to stand in front of Bren. “Daddy.”
“Where’s Mummy?” I ask, slowly rising to my feet. I am allowed to visit Brianna but this was impromptu.
They drag me down the corridor without providing an answer to my question. I smile a little at the palm prints on the wall of their room. Though faint, they are still visible, the smaller prints are El’s and the bigger ones are mine. In an unspoken agreement, we walk towards Bren’s bed, at least I think it’s hers.
“Mummy is with Uncle T,” Wyn offers, already smoothening my trousers so she can sit on my leg. Bren rests her head on my arm, my heart melts a little when she offers me a tiny smile as if to say she doesn’t care about the smelly shirt. Locking her arms behind my neck, Wyn whips her hair, sending strands into my eyes. Her lips part to reveal her gap tooth, she pokes me on my cheek and says, “I like Uncle T.”
It hits me now, my brain finally registers her words. Angry clouds gather in my head, I take a moment to reply. Masking my fury, I say, “No, you don’t.” My smile is painfully forced, Wyn pulls the corners of my lips till the smile turns real and she rewards me with a grin. Bren raises her head to peer at me, I run my fingers through her soft hair. We didn’t discuss seeing other people. I don’t want them to have another male figure in their lives, I am enough for them. “Don’t call him Uncle, okay? He’s not your Uncle.”
Wyn settles down on my lap, she grabs my hand tangled in Bren’s hair to lace our fingers. “I don’t think it’s bad,” she murmurs, “Aunt Sophia is not our aunt but we call her aunt. She is nice, I like her too.”
Her innocent reply squelches the brewing anger, fatigue embraces me and I offer her a weak smile. They could be talking. They are friends, he’s allowed to visit. It is none of my business. Images float in my head. What if they are doing more than talking? What if he is exploring those parts of her body he glimpsed in the selfies she sent that night? I pull my hand from Wyn’s grasp to tuck it under her jaw.
Without looking, I know Bren is also listening. “Yes. Aunt Sophia is family because she has earned it.” My gaze darts between the two of them, they hang onto every word I say. “Family is not only my blood.”
Silence falls over us. Wyn puckers her lips, Bren slides her arms around my free hand and sticks out her tongue when I arch a brow. They like touching me more than they do Elna. I love these small gestures.
“What if I like someone from school?” I nod for Wyn to continue but everything in me wants to scream which person? To know if it’s the same boy they gossiped about. “Does that mean he is family too?” So, it’s indeed a boy. A smile forms on my lips. It doesn’t matter what I do, they will grow to love other men. She frowns. “Why are you smiling?” I shake my head, she shrugs. “Okay, does that make him family?”
“No.”
They don’t contest my reply, I place Wyn on the bed when my arm thrums in protest. I should get going. If Enzo isn’t outside, I will be in deep shit. Then again, I can always ask to use El’s phone but I don’t want to be around her or that wife snatcher. I might pummel his face harder than I did Vincent’s. A sigh escapes me, I run my hands over my trouser. That incident feels like days ago but it happened today.
Did Jei hear about the altercation? I hope not. I keep fucking things up for myself.
“Is that why Mummy says Bri is our sister? Has she earned it?”
Everything in my head shuts off, my mind goes blank and my gaze darts to Wyn. “Bri?”
They don’t know about her. Left to me, they probably would never because I don’t know if she will ever wake. A strange feeling courses through my veins, I don’t care to identify it but annoyance sizzles my inside the longer Wyn takes to reply me. I force a smile to my lips, she stops playing with my fingers.
“Yeah. Her name is Bri.” She looks to Bren for confirmation, her sister nods. “She talks like a kid.”
Something inside me snaps. Her words reverberate in my head, take a suffocating hold on me and I am pulled back to the elevator with Vincent. To his taunting comment. I have never heard Brianna speak. I have seen a video but I have never heard her speak. In reality, I don’t know what she sounds like. If she sounds the same way she does in her videos and my heart cracks at this admission I had long buried.
“You’re also a kid,” I retort, grounding my teeth in barely concealed anger.
She has no right to call Brianna a kid in that condescending tone when they are children themselves. Bri is older than both of them. How do they know what she sounds like when I don’t? How do they know she exists? My head is a cobweb of incoherent thoughts, I try to focus on Wyn’s bed opposite Bren’s, her Ben10 bedsheet. To find some stability in this mess. This is not their fault. Only one person is to blame.
“Don’t shout at my sister,” Bren says.
I raise my head to see Bren hugging her twin, she sticks her nose in the air, daring me to say something and my heart turns to dust. I didn’t even realise I raised my voice at Wyn until she pointed it out. Wyn’s lips tremble violently, her eyes shimmer with tears and she snuggles close to her sister like I am the monster. She swats my hand when I try to pull her into my arms, my chest constricts and I let her be.
For now.
“I’m not a kid,” she says. She sniffs, Bren wipes the tears leaking to her cheeks with the heel of her palm. The sight tugs at my heart, I wait patiently until she calms down. “We are not kids.” She looks to her twin for approval, it comes in the form of a curt nod and a gentle pat on her shoulder. “We are big girls.”
Laughter threatens to escape me, I cover my mouth. “Okay, you are a big girl. You are big girls.” They nod, a smile curls my lips. “Can Daddy get a hug now?” They shake their heads, I pout and Bren giggles.
“We don’t like it when you shout at us,” she says but I know it’s more for Wyn’s benefit. The slightest scream turns her into a whimpering mess, that’s why I avoid yelling at her. “Don’t do it again, Daddy.”
Waving her slender finger in my face, she arches a brow when I hesitate to reply and I wonder if I didn’t do wrong by teaching them to voice out their opinions all the time. I try again for a hug, Wyn allows me and I carry her to my laps. I peck her lips, tickle her until she relaxes and erupts in a fit of giggles.
“Daddy won’t shout at you again, okay?” She nods, I smile. The promise sounds too familiar, I shake the thought off and offer my hand to Bren. Wyn is the more clingy one, for all her tough girl facade, she’s a sweetheart on the inside. She tucks her head on my shoulder, traces the collar of my shirt and I voice out the question I wanted to ask the moment they mentioned that name. “How do you know Bri?”
It’s Bren who speaks up. “Don’t tell mummy. Promise?” Wyn’s fingers falter, she looks briefly to her sister and Bren gulps. I nod, knowing fully well I will do the opposite. “When Aunt Sophia came to the house, we followed her.” They turn to each other and giggle. “We saw her, she looks so small. Is she sick?”
Her brown eyes settle eagerly on me for a response, I give her hand a small squeeze. “Very.”
“Hmm. Maybe that’s why Mummy won’t let us inside her room.”
“Maybe.” Rising to my feet, I lower Wyn to the bed and chuckle slightly when I see she’s already dozing. I carry her to her bed, pull the covers to her chin and place a kiss on her forehead. Bren swipes the hair away from her face, I take her hands and litter kisses on her knuckles. “Daddy has to go now, okay?”
She launches herself into my arms, I hug her tight, squeezing her small frame against mine. I don’t want to leave. Everything finally comes crashing down on me, a tear slides down my cheek at the sudden realisation that hits me. My baby spoke. Bren breaks away from the hug, she bops my nose. “I love you.”
I press a kiss to her hair. “I love you too.”