IRIS: Fallen for him

CHAPTER FIVE

The sun was soft that afternoon, casting a golden haze over the courtyard of Rosebridge Preparatory School. The air smelled faintly of chalk dust and blooming jacaranda. Most of the children had already been picked up, their laughter fading into the distance. Teachers chatted quietly near the gates, and nannies bustled about, gathering forgotten lunchboxes and stray sweaters.

Imani sat alone on a stone bench beneath the jacaranda tree, her sketchbook balanced on her knees. She had drawn a lion again-this time with a crown made of thorns. She didn't know why, but her chest felt heavy today. Like something was shifting in the air. Like something was watching.

She glanced toward the school gates. No sign of Iris yet.

A woman approached, heels clicking softly on the stone path. She was beautiful-icy and polished, with platinum hair pulled into a sleek bun and sunglasses that covered half her face. She looked out of place among the soft chaos of children.

"Hello there," the woman said, crouching slightly. "That's a lovely drawing."

Imani looked up, cautious. "Thank you."

The woman smiled. "What's your name?"

"Imani."

The woman froze for half a second. Just a flicker. Then she smiled wider. "Imani. That's a strong name."

Imani tilted her head. "Who are you?"

"Oh," the woman said, standing again. "Just someone visiting. I used to know someone who worked with your school."

Imani narrowed her eyes. "You don't look like a teacher."

Flora laughed softly. "No, I suppose I don't."

Imani studied her. "You look like someone who wears perfume even when they're sad."

Flora blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You smell like roses," Imani said. "But your eyes look like rain."

Flora's breath caught. "You're very observant."

"I read people," Imani said simply. "My mommy taught me."

Flora's heart skipped. "Your mom?"

Imani nodded. "Her name is Iris."

Flora's face went pale. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Imani watched her carefully. "Do you know her?"

Flora hesitated. "I... I might."

Imani stepped back. "You're the woman from the photo."

Flora blinked. "What photo?"

"In Daddy's drawer," Imani said. "He doesn't know I saw it. But I remember your eyes."

Flora's voice trembled. "Your daddy... Aziel?"

Imani nodded slowly. "You're the ghost."

Flora's knees nearly buckled. She clutched her purse tighter, her mind spinning.

Imani looked at her one last time. "You shouldn't be here."

Then she turned and walked toward the school gates, her curls bouncing, her sketchbook pressed to her chest like armor.

Flora stood frozen, the jacaranda blossoms falling around her like silent witnesses.

The drive to Imani's school was quiet. Iris didn't turn on the radio. The silence felt safer-less likely to betray the storm inside her. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her mind replaying Merlida's words like a cruel chorus.

"You were convenient. Quiet. Easy to control."

The words clung to her skin like smoke.

She parked outside the school gate, just as the bell rang. Children spilled out in waves-laughing, shouting, backpacks bouncing. But Iris's eyes searched for one face.

Then she saw her.

Imani, with her wild curls and mismatched socks, running toward her with a grin that could melt glaciers.

"Mummy!" she shouted, flinging herself into Iris's arms.

Iris knelt, hugging her tight, breathing in the scent of crayons and sunshine. For a moment, Merlida's voice faded.

But then Imani pulled back, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Hi, Mama!" she chirped, climbing into the back seat.

Iris smiled, buckled her in, and slid into the driver's seat. "How was school?"

Imani hesitated. "I met someone."

Iris's fingers paused on the steering wheel. "Someone?"

"A lady," Imani said. "She had white hair and smelled like roses. She said my drawing was nice."

Iris's heart skipped. "Did she touch you?"

"No," Imani said. "She just talked. She asked my name."

Iris's voice sharpened. "Imani, you know you're not supposed to talk to strangers."

"I know," Imani said. "But she wasn't scary. She was sad."

Iris's jaw tightened. "Sad people can still be dangerous."

Imani looked down. "She knew Daddy."

Iris's breath caught. "What?"

"She said she might know you too," Imani added. "And I told her your name. She looked... scared."

Iris stared ahead, her knuckles whitening around the wheel. The city blurred past the windows, but her mind was racing.

White hair. Roses. Sad eyes.

It couldn't be.

But it was.

Flora.

The name hit her like a cold wind. The woman Aziel never spoke about. The one whose absence had shaped their entire marriage. The ghost in his drawer. The silence between their sheets.

Iris kept her voice calm. "Next time, don't speak to anyone you don't know. Even if they seem nice."

Imani nodded. "Okay, Mama."

But Iris's thoughts were already elsewhere. Her grip on the wheel tightened. Her pulse quickened.

Evening settled quietly over the house when the old man called Aziel back home.

By the time he arrived, Iris was still in the kitchen cooking dinner. Imani stood beside her on her little play chair, watching with wide-eyed excitement as her mother moved with grace and ease.

They were laughing.

A rare, pure moment.

From the living room, the old man spoke in a firm tone, "Aziel, go and assist your wife."

Merlida, seated stiffly, opened her mouth to object-but the old man didn't even look her way.

"Not a word," he said coldly. She shut her lips, swallowing whatever venom she was about to spit.

Aziel tugged up the sleeves of his shirt and made his way to the kitchen. From the doorway, he saw Iris from behind. Her form moved with gentle rhythm, her figure delicate yet strong. Her hips curved just right-not exaggerated, not slight, and her waist... it was hard to believe she'd birthed a child. Her glowing skin caught the warm light like honey.

He swallowed hard.

Both mother and daughter noticed his presence. Iris looked up and smiled faintly.

"Uh... Grandpa told me to join you," he muttered, feeling oddly out of place.

Imani beamed. Iris nodded calmly, handing him a dish to set. The atmosphere had shifted-tense, expectant.

Dinner was soon ready. They began to serve when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Imani chirped, hopping down and running to the door.

Seconds later, her voice wavered. "Hi..."

"Hi, Imani," a familiar voice replied sweetly. Flora stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

Aziel frowned. Imani was taking too long, so he stepped out to check-only to stop short. There stood Flora, radiant in her tight dress, confident as ever.

Without warning, she rushed to him and kissed him-right in front of Imani.

"Flora!" Aziel hissed, pushing her back gently but firmly. "What the hell are you doing?"

She didn't flinch. "Relax," she whispered with a smile. "I missed you."

Imani looked confused and uncomfortable.

Aziel's heart clenched. He hadn't been the best father, but this-this was not what his daughter needed to see.

"Flora, leave," he said through clenched teeth.

But before she could respond, Merlida's voice cut through the moment like a blade.

"Flora, my dear!" she cried, rushing over. "Mamacita, I've missed you."

The two embraced like old friends. Aziel's stomach twisted.

Merlida, all smiles now, led Flora toward the table. Iris had just stepped in with a serving tray. She paused when she saw Flora. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes... they knew.

"Hi, Grandpa," Flora said breezily to the old man.

But he didn't answer.

Instead, he gave Aziel a long, cold, disappointed stare.

Aziel clenched his fists.

He turned to Flora, grabbed her wrist, and whispered sharply, "What are you doing here?"

Flora smirked and slipped her hand from his grasp. From her handbag, she pulled out his tablet.

"Baby, you forgot this when you came to visit," she said, loud enough for all to hear.

Aziel's mind raced. I didn't...

Then it hit him-Julian. He must've gone to her place with his device and left it.

Before he could explain, Merlida chimed in brightly, "Come now, let's eat! Flora, sit here."

She completely ignored Iris, who stood quietly, watching the scene unfold.

Imani, eyes wide and clouded with unease, suddenly muttered, "I need to use the toilet," and ran upstairs.

"Iris," Merlida said, her voice sharp, "get an extra plate for Aziel's guest."

The room fell silent.

Then-bang-the old man slammed his palm on the table.

"No," he growled. "Merlida, you get the guest a plate."

Merlida's face twisted with shame and anger. She turned on Iris bitterly.

"If you can't perform your duties as a wife, maybe you should just let go of my son!"

But this time, Iris didn't flinch.

She looked straight at Merlida, then at Flora, and replied with grace and quiet power,

"There's no problem, Mother. I'll serve my husband's guest."

Aziel stared at her-at the poise, the unshakable dignity. The old man gave a small, satisfied smile.

Merlida fumed, but Iris walked past her, picked a plate, and dished food for Flora.

Flora smiled smugly. But just as she picked up her spoon and began eating, she paused mid-chew.

"Oh," she said with a small chuckle, "you might want to start training your daughter. She talked to me at school today without even knowing who I was."

She shot Iris a knowing look, but Iris smiled back-sweet and sharp.

"Thank you for the observation," she said calmly. "Thankfully, she wasn't rude. And she wasn't lurking in any unwanted place."

Then Iris leaned in slightly, still smiling.

"And it's best you focus on your food before you choke on a bone."

Flora's face went pale. She almost choked for real.

No one saw that coming.

Aziel blinked.

Merlida's mouth hung open.

The old man sipped his drink, amused.

"I'll go check on Imani," Iris said softly, then turned and left the room like a queen.

Silence.

Flora cleared her throat awkwardly and looked down at her food, embarrassed.

Aziel exhaled and leaned back, watching his wife retreat-his respect for her deepening.

And for the first time in a long time, Merlida had nothing to say.