Father question
1638 Words
MILLIE-ROSE’S POV
I couldn't breathe.
Leo stood in front of us, his question hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Braham, are you my real dad?
My hand was still gripping Braham's, so tight I could feel his pulse pounding against my palm. Or maybe that was my own pulse. I couldn't tell anymore.
"Leo..." I started, but my voice came out strangled.
He looked at me with those impossibly perceptive eyes. "It's okay, Mommy. You can tell me the truth."
The truth. God, what even was the truth?
Braham cleared his throat beside me. "Leo, why don't you come sit with us?"
Leo climbed onto the couch, settling between us. He looked so small, so vulnerable, and yet there was something in his posture that was pure strength. Like he'd already braced himself for whatever we were about to say.
"Sweetheart," I began, releasing Braham's hand to cup Leo's face. "That's a very big question."
"I know." He didn't look away. "That's why I asked."
Braham leaned forward. "Leo, do you know what it means to be someone's real dad?"
"It means you're the one who made them," Leo said matter-of-factly. "The one whose... whose stuff made you. Like in the science videos about babies."
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Of course Leo had been watching science videos.
"That's part of it," Braham said carefully. "But being a dad is about more than that. It's about being there. Taking care of someone. Loving them."
Leo nodded slowly. "So you can be someone's dad even if you didn't make them?"
"Yes."
"Like how some kids have stepdads or adoptive dads?"
"Exactly like that."
Leo processed this for a moment. Then he looked at Braham with an intensity that made my chest ache. "So are you my dad? Either kind?"
Braham glanced at me, and I saw the question in his eyes. How do we do this?
I took a deep breath. "Leo, Braham is... Braham is your biological father. He's the one who... whose DNA you have."
I expected shock. Surprise. Maybe even anger that we'd kept this from him.
Instead, Leo just nodded. "I know."
I blinked. "You... what?"
"I know," he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've known for a while."
"How?" Braham asked, his voice hoarse.
Leo shrugged. "Lots of things. The way you look at each other. The way Mommy gets all weird when people ask about my dad. The way you're always here, Braham. The way you both think I don't notice when you're holding hands or standing really close." He paused. "Also, we look alike. I saw a picture of you when you were little in your office. We have the same nose."
I was speechless. Absolutely speechless.
"So you knew," I finally managed to say with a sigh. "This whole time, you knew, and you didn't say anything?"
"I was waiting for you to tell me." Leo picked at a thread on the couch cushion. "I thought you would when you were ready. But you kept hiding it, and I got tired of waiting."
Guilt crashed over me in waves. "Leo, I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I just... I didn't know how to explain something so complicated."
“What is complicated?” He asked, looking expectantly at me.
“Complicated is…” I thought hard on how to break it down for his little smart brain to understand.
“Complicated means it’s hard to explain.” Braham was finally able to come up with something.
"It's not that complicated," Leo said. "Braham is my dad. You're my mom. That's it."
If only it were that simple.
Braham reached over and ruffled Leo's hair. "You're a pretty smart kid, you know that?"
"I know." Leo grinned, but then his expression turned serious again. "So if Braham is my dad, and you're my mom, when are you going to get married?"
I nearly choked on air. "What?"
"When are you getting married?" Leo repeated, slower this time like I was the child who needed things explained. "So we can be a real family. Like other normal families."
"Lionel..." I started, but I had no idea how to finish that sentence.
"Is it because you don't love each other?" he asked, his voice getting smaller. "Because I think you do. I see the way you look at each other when you think I'm not watching."
"It's not that simple, buddy," Braham said gently.
"Why not?" Leo's eyes were getting suspiciously shiny. "Other kids have moms and dads who live together. They eat dinner together and go places together and the parents don't have to sleep in separate rooms at night. Why can't we do that?"
"We live together and do eat dinner together," I tried weakly.
"But you and Braham never sleep in the same room ." Leo turned to me. "Is it you, Mama? Are you the one holding us back?"
The question hit me like a punch to the gut.
Was I?
I looked at Braham, at the way he was watching me with those careful, guarded eyes. At the way he'd been there for us, day after day, week after week. Never pushing. Never demanding. Just... there. Always there.
And then I looked at Leo, at my beautiful, brilliant boy who deserved so much more than a mother who was too scared to let herself be happy.
"Leo," I said softly, pulling him into my lap. "It's not that simple. There are things happening right now…grown-up things… that make everything complicated."
"What things?"
How could I explain that his grandfather was in prison? That his step aunt was planning to hurt his mom? That I was almost in the middle of legal battles that could destroy what was left of my family?
"Bad people are trying to hurt us," I said finally. "And I need to make sure they can't before we can... before we can think about other things."
"Like being a normal family?"
"Like being the family we deserve to be."
Leo was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "My next birthday is in eight months."
I blinked at the sudden change in topic. "Yes, it is."
"Will the bad people be gone by then?"
"I..." I looked at Braham helplessly.
"Your mom is working very hard to make sure of it," Braham said.
Leo turned back to me. "So by my birthday, can we be a real family? With you and Braham married and everything?"
"Leo, I can't promise..."
"Please, Mommy." His voice cracked. "I just want us to be normal. I want Braham to be my dad for real. Not just the secret kind that only us know about. I want everyone to know. I want to call him Dad and have him live with us and not have to wonder if he's going to leave someday."
Tears were streaming down my face now. "Oh, baby. Braham's not going anywhere. I promise you that."
"But is he going to be my dad? Like, on paper?"
I looked at Braham over Leo's head. He looked as wrecked as I felt.
"Yes," I heard myself say. "Yes, Leo. By your next birthday, we'll celebrate as a real family. I promise you that."
"You mean it?" Leo's whole face lit up. "You're not just saying it?"
"I mean it." I pulled him closer, pressing my face into his hair. "I promise you, sweetheart. By your next birthday, we'll be a real family."
Leo threw his arms around my neck. "Thank you, Mommy. Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Over his shoulder, I met Braham's eyes. He looked stunned. Hopeful. Terrified.
I knew exactly how he felt.
When Leo finally pulled back, he was beaming. "Can I go tell Aunt Callie?"
"Not yet, buddy," Braham said quickly. "Let's keep this between us for a little while, okay? Just until everything is settled."
"Because of the bad people?"
"Because of the bad people," I confirmed.
"Okay." Leo hopped off my lap. "But you have to promise me you're not going to change your mind."
"I won't change my mind," I promised.
He looked at Braham. "What about you?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Leo. Braham affirmed."
Satisfied, Leo headed back upstairs, practically bouncing with excitement.
The moment he was gone, I collapsed back against the couch.
"Millie," Braham started.
"I know." I covered my face with my hands. "I know... Eight months. I just promised our son that we'd be a real family in less than eight months."
"Our son." Braham's voice was soft. "You said our son."
I lowered my hands to look at him. "That's what he is, isn't he?"
"Yeah." He smiled, but there was something bittersweet in it. "Yeah, he is."
We sat there in silence for a moment. Then I said, "I have to speed everything up. The court cases, the evidence gathering, all of it. I have less than eight months to make sure Martha and Sabrina and Silas can't hurt us anymore."
"That's not a lot of time."
"I know." I stood up, already making mental lists. "But I made him a promise. And I'm not breaking another promise to that boy. I've broken enough already."
"Millie."
I turned back to Braham.
"We'll figure it out," he said. "Together."
Together. The word settled into my chest like an anchor.
"Together," I repeated.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe it might actually be possible.
But first, I had work to do.
Eight months to dismantle everything my father and his family had built for over twenty years.
Eight months to protect my son.
Eight months to build the life we deserved.
I could do this.
I had to.
- Writer
