IRIS: Fallen for him

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Back in the hospital ward, Imani stirred. Her lashes fluttered, and when her eyes opened, Iris nearly collapsed with relief.

“Doctor! Doctor Kiato!” Iris called out quickly.

Dr. Kiato came in almost immediately, stethoscope around his neck, white coat crisp. He examined Imani gently, checking her pulse, her eyes, and listening to her chest with steady precision.

“She’s stable,” Kiato said finally, adjusting his glasses. His tone softened as he looked at Iris. “Her body is weaker than most children her age, but she’s strong—don’t underestimate her. Right now, she needs rest, no stress, and plenty of love. If she keeps recovering like this, she’ll be fine.”

Relief washed over Iris, her knees almost buckling. She whispered, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Kiato gave a reassuring nod. “Stay close to her. She needs you more than any medicine right now.” And with that, he left the ward.

Iris sank back into the chair by the bed, reaching for Imani’s tiny hand.

“Mummy, did I scare you?” Imani’s voice was soft, fragile.

Iris forced a smile and nodded, tears stinging her eyes. “Yes, baby, you did.”

Imani lifted her small hand to her mother’s face, her touch tender. “Sorry, mummy.”

Iris pressed a kiss to the back of her daughter’s hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. As long as you’re here with me, I’ll be fine.”

For a moment, mother and daughter stayed like that—holding on to each other like lifelines. But then Imani’s little voice broke the silence.

“Mummy… where’s Daddy?”

Iris stiffened, her smile faltering. Anger surged in her chest, but she kept her face calm. “Imani baby, you should rest, okay?”

But Imani’s sharp little eyes didn’t miss the flicker in her mother’s gaze. “Mummy… can Daddy come stay with me while you go rest?”

The words sliced into Iris’s heart. She shook her head firmly. “No, baby. Your daddy… doesn’t care about you.”

Imani pouted, her expression too wise for her age. “Mummy, I know you will soon divorce Daddy.”

The word hit Iris like a slap. Her eyes widened, her breath catching. “Divorce? Imani… where did you hear that word? How do you even know what it means?”

Imani hesitated, then said softly, “I read it in a book. And I searched for the meaning. The way it was described… I know it’s what you want to do. To leave Daddy.”

Iris was stunned, guilt flooding her. She had taught Imani to read early, proud of her brilliance—but now that same brilliance had unveiled truths Iris wasn’t ready to face with her daughter.

“Imani…” Iris’s voice trembled.

The little girl squeezed her mother’s hand. “Mummy, I don’t mind going anywhere with you. I’ll always stay with you. But… I just want to know how it feels to have Daddy around too. Just for a little while.”

Tears spilled down Iris’s cheeks. Six years she had endured Aziel’s neglect, six years of broken promises and silent tears—all for the sake of this child. And now that child was asking her to give him another chance, not for herself, but for the experience of fatherly love.

“Listen to me, baby,” Iris whispered, brushing Imani’s hair back from her face. “If I leave your daddy, I will never stop you from seeing him or spending time with him. I promise you that. But mummy… mummy is hurting a lot. I stayed all these years because of you. But if I keep staying, you may grow up not believing in love at all. And that’s not what I want for you.”

Imani’s eyes glistened, her lips trembling.

“You’ll understand better when you’re older,” Iris added, pressing her forehead to her daughter’s.

Her hands shook as she reached for her phone—the phone she had sworn she would never use to call him again. Her finger hovered over the contact, her heart hammering in her chest.

Then, with a deep breath, she pressed call.

Aziel’s name lit up on the screen.

Aziel walked into the hospital ward with a heaviness in his step he hadn’t felt in years. it wasn’t Iris calling him, or Theo nagging him—it was Imani. His daughter had asked for him.

“Hey, bunny,” he said softly, his smile wide as he leaned down toward the bed.

Imani’s little face brightened, though pale from her illness. “Daddy.”

From the corner, Iris rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Playing the role of perfect dad, now?” Her chest tightened with bitterness, and she turned away.

“Take a break, mummy,” Imani said suddenly, looking up at her. “Daddy will stay with me.”

Iris hesitated, her eyes flicking between her daughter and Aziel. “What about food?” she asked quietly.

Imani smiled faintly. “Mummy, Daddy will take care of it.”

That was enough. Without another word, Iris grabbed her bag and left the room. Just the sight of Aziel’s presence made her skin crawl.

Aziel sat with Imani for a moment, handing her a giant teddy bear he had picked up on his way. She giggled softly, hugging it close. But even as he smiled at her, his gaze kept drifting to the door Iris had walked through. His chest ached. He couldn’t let her keep walking away.

“I’ll be right back, bunny,” he whispered, kissing her forehead before slipping out.

Down the corridor, he spotted her talking with Dr. Kiato. The doctor, sensing the storm in Aziel’s approach, adjusted his glasses nervously. “I’ll… speak with you later, Mrs. Valen,” he said quickly, then excused himself.

Iris turned sharply, intending to walk away, but Aziel reached out and caught her wrist. “Iris, please. Let’s talk.”

She yanked her hand back instantly, her voice like ice. “Your daughter wants to see you, Aziel. Not me.” And she spun on her heel to leave.

Desperation surged in him. “Please, Iris—listen.”

Her steps halted, anger radiating from her back. She turned slowly, eyes blazing. “What do you want to say, huh? Go ahead, I’m all ears.” Her tone was venom.

A few passersby had stopped, whispering. “Isn’t that Aziel Valen? Who’s that woman with him?”

Aziel noticed their eyes, their curious stares, and immediately grabbed Iris’s arm, pulling her toward a quieter corner of the hallway. “Iris… I messed up,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know no amount of words can save me, and nothing can erase the pain I’ve caused you. But—”

“Enough!” Iris cut him off, her voice rising. Her fury was raw, unrestrained. “Aziel Valen, you are hopeless. Do you know how many chances I’ve given you? How many nights I cried myself to sleep because of you? But right now…” her voice trembled as tears filled her eyes, “…I despise you. You disgust me. You’re filthy.”

She turned and stormed away, her heels echoing against the polished hospital floor.

Aziel’s chest heaved. He slammed his fist against the wall with a guttural growl, his knuckles stinging with pain. For a moment, he just stood there, heart pounding, head spinning with rage at himself.

Then, trembling, he pulled out his phone and dialed his grandfather.

“Aziel,” Vincent’s stern voice came through, calm and commanding. “What are you up to now?”

Aziel’s breath was ragged, but his voice carried a rare sincerity. “Grandpa, I’ve realized my mistake. I don’t care about pride or reputation anymore—I want to change. I want to set things right and save my family. Please…”

There was silence on the other end, heavy and cold. Then Vincent spoke. His words cut deeper than Iris ever could.

“You are my grandson, Aziel. But you don’t deserve a second chance.”

The line went dead.

Aziel stood frozen, his phone still pressed to his ear, his grandfather’s words echoing like a death sentence. His knees weakened, and for the first time in his life, Aziel Valen—the man everyone thought untouchable—felt utterly powerless.