Chapter10:Shadowsbeneaththeroof
1253 Words
The ride home from the hospital had been quiet. Too quiet.
The hum of the car engine filled the silence that neither of them dared to break.
Lyra’s eyes occasionally darted toward her husband, but he never looked back.
Mateo’s gaze was fixed on the passing streets, his mind a labyrinth of confusion and disbelief. The words of the doctor replayed in his head like a cruel echo he couldn’t silence. Infertile.
The word clung to his chest, pressing down until it hurt to breathe.
When they arrived home, the children came running, their laughter bright and innocent.
“Daddy!” they chorused, wrapping their small arms around his legs.
Their excitement was genuine, pure,untainted by the storm brewing inside him.
Mateo forced a smile, lowering himself to hug them, breathing in the scent of their shampoo and the warmth of their tiny bodies. For a brief moment, he almost believed this was his family.
But as he looked into their eyes ,those same eyes that once mirrored his pride,something in him shifted.
Were they really his? The thought made his stomach twist.
He looked at the eldest, , with his sharp jaw and light skin.
The second child Mia, had a dimple that never matched his own. He swallowed hard, forcing a laugh when showed him his new toy car.
“That’s great, buddy,” he said softly, ruffling the boy’s hair.
Lyra watched from the doorway, her heart aching.
The last child, Nolan kept pulling Mateo’s trousers to get his attention.
Mateo’s lips curved into a smile as his eyes dropped on the little boy, he lifted him.
Mateo tickled him, and Nolan giggled with excitement.
She had hoped that bringing him home would make things better. But the distance between them had only widened.
Mateo didn’t look at her the same way anymore, his eyes were hollow, heavy with something she couldn’t name.
He had a lot of questions to ask her but he was holding back,she could tell.
Later that evening, the house grew calm. The children had gone to bed after dinner, and Mateo sat in the living room, staring blankly at the muted television. The light flickered across his face, revealing the turmoil beneath his stillness. Lyra approached quietly, her voice cautious.
“Are you okay, love?”
He didn’t turn to her. “I’m fine.”
She took a seat beside him, close enough to feel the tension radiating from his body.
“You’ve been distant, Mateo, Even before the accident. You barely talk to me anymore.”
His jaw tightened. “I said I’m fine.”
Lyra’s heart cracked a little at the edge in his voice,not because she cared but because she wanted to know what was going in his head.
“You’re not,” she whispered.
“You’re shutting me out again”she drew closer to sit beside him.
He turned to her finally, his eyes cold, guarded.
“Lyra, please. I’m tired. I just want to rest.”
She nodded, but the lump in her throat made it hard to breathe.
As she stood to leave, he caught a glimpse of the guilt flickering across her face, and something inside him twisted again, pain, anger, confusion, regret.
When she disappeared into the bedroom, he exhaled shakily.
His hands trembled as he ran them over his face.
How did I get here? He wondered. When did everything start falling apart?
Deep down in his heart he knew he still loved Lyra like the first day he had laid his eyes on her at the cafe.
He thought of the nights he had chosen work over dinner. The times she had called him, and he had ignored the phone because he was “too busy.”
The missed anniversaries, the half-hearted apologies, the way her laughter had faded with every passing year.
He used to tell himself it was for the family,for her, for the children.
But now, staring into the darkness, he questioned it all.
Were they even my children?
The thought was poison, eating at him slowly.
He remembered Ryan’s birth, how he’d been out of town for a conference, how Lyra had cried over the phone, begging him to come back. He hadn’t made it.
By the time he returned, the baby was already home, wrapped in a blue blanket. He hadn’t even been there to see his son’s first breath.
Now, every memory felt tainted. Every smile, every laugh, every
“Daddy, look at me!” sounded hollow. He loved them, yes,but love wasn’t enough to silence the doubt.
The bedroom door creaked open behind him.
Lyra stepped out, wearing her nightgown, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She stood there for a moment, watching him.
“Mateo,” she said softly, “come to bed.”
He didn’t move. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Why?” Her voice cracked.
“Because I want to.”
She bit her lip, her eyes glistening. “Did I do something wrong?”
He looked at her then, really looked at her, the woman who had once been his peace, his joy.
But now, all he could see was the uncertainty, the lies he feared might exist between them.
“No,” he muttered. “You didn’t.”
“Then why are you treating me like a stranger?”
His chest rose and fell, his breath heavy. “Because maybe I don’t know who you are anymore,” he said under his breath.
Her lips parted in shock.
“What does that mean?”
He turned away, unable to face her. “It means I just need time.”
She stood there for a long moment, fighting tears. “Time,” she whispered. “That’s what you always say.”
“If there is anyone that has changed these past few days then it’s you.I have been pleading with you to talk to me but you have clearly refused” she continued
“You know what, do what suits you best” she snapped at him
When she went back into the room, Mateo leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
His mind was in chaos. He could feel regret creeping in, bitter and unrelenting. He regretted every moment he had pushed her away, every evening he had chosen his laptop over her laughter.
He regretted being the man who made her lonely enough to look elsewhere, if she had.
But even in his regret, anger brewed.
Why didn’t she tell me? he thought bitterly. Why did she let me live a lie?
In the distance, he could hear the soft snore of his children. He thought of them again how Ryan clung to his arm tonight, how Mia had kissed his cheek before bed and how Nolan had insisted on sleeping with him.
They were innocent, untouched by adult mistakes.
And yet, every time he looked at them, the question echoed louder.
“If they’re not mine… whose are they?
The night stretched on, heavy with silence. Mateo sat there until the first light of dawn crept through the window.
His body ached, but his mind refused to rest. The house was peaceful, but inside him, a storm raged,one he didn’t know how to quiet.
He looked toward the bedroom door and whispered to himself, voice cracking, “Maybe I’m the one who broke this family long before the truth did.”
And with that thought, he closed his eyes, but sleep never came.
- Writer
