Chapter 12 - Monday Panic
1138 Words
I want to see the kids today.
My morning was interrupted by the message.
I had just entered the house after sending Zayn and Zarra to school. They had been in such a good mood today, still talking about Uncle Liam and everything they did with him over the weekend. I loved how openly they showed their love for Liam.
I placed my iced latte and tuna croissant from my usual café on the coffee table. Then I stared at the message again. Unknown number.
But deep down, I knew it was from Adrian.
My ex-husband.
My children's father.
I sighed, my fingers hovering over the screen as I tried to think of how to respond. After almost two years since the divorce, after the court hearing had finally settled everything, he disappeared completely.
No phone calls.
No texts.
No visits.
Not even once.
I had been the one reaching out to him whenever the kids asked for their daddy during their fever. I had been the one trying to keep whatever little connection left between him and the children.
My thoughts were interrupted when my phone vibrated again.
You are not replying.
I want to see the kids. Now.
Was he kidding me? Where on earth had he been living? It was Monday. Clearly, the kids were at school. Out of pure annoyance, I replied.
Excuse me, who are you?
Really. He deserved it. His reply came almost instantly.
Don't pretend you don't know me.
I want to see Zayn and Zarra.
They are my kids too.
Oh, wow. I smirked.
Your kids?
Another message came in.
Don't make things harder, Zetty.
I just want to see the kids.
Anger began spreading through my veins. My hands were literally shaking. His kids? Where had he been all these years? He had not even made a single phone call. Not one.
I slumped back onto the couch, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Why?
Why, after all these years, did he suddenly decide to appear?
I picked up my iced latte and took a sip, but the coffee tasted different.
Bitter.
Maybe because my tongue was still burning with anger. Maybe because Adrian had managed to ruin my morning with only a few messages.
My phone vibrated again.
Are you ignoring me now?
I laughed under my breath. Not because it was funny. Because the audacity was almost impressive. After two years of silence, suddenly he expected me to answer him within seconds.
I placed my cup back on the coffee table and typed slowly.
The kids are at school.
You can't just appear out of nowhere and demand to see them.
His reply came less than a minute later.
I am their father.
I stared at the screen.There it was. The title.
The one he liked to use only when it suited him.
Father.
A word so big, yet he had carried it so lightly.
Being their father does not mean you can walk in whenever you want, I replied.
We need to arrange things properly.
The typing indicator appeared immediately. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. I hated how my chest tightened while waiting.
Finally, his message came.
You are still the same.
I frowned.
Excuse me?
Always making everything difficult.
My jaw clenched. For a moment, I saw flashes of the old marriage. The way he used to twist every conversation until I became the problem.
If I asked for help, I was nagging.
If I cried, I was dramatic.
If I stayed quiet, I was cold.
If I protected myself, I was difficult.
Somehow, no matter what happened, the blame always found its way back to me. I gripped my phone tighter.
I'm not making things difficult.
I'm setting boundaries.
He replied almost instantly.
Boundaries?
With my own children?
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. This was exactly why I hated dealing with him.
One simple sentence from him, and suddenly my whole body remembered things my mind had tried to bury.
The sharp tone.
The silent treatment.
The guilt.
The way he could disappear emotionally even while sitting in the same room.
I had survived all that once. I refused to let him drag me back there. My phone buzzed again.
But this time, it was not Adrian.
Adam.
Breakfast done, friend?
I stared at his message. For a second, the contrast almost made me dizzy. One man from my past was demanding access to my children after years of absence. Another man behind a screen was asking about breakfast like my morning had not just cracked open.
I did not reply. I could not. Adrian's next message arrived before I could even put my thoughts together.
I know what school they go to.
My blood ran cold.
The iced latte sat untouched on the table. The tuna croissant remained inside its paper bag. I reread the message.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
I know what school they go to.
My fingers turned numb. This was no longer just annoying. This was no longer just inconvenient. This was panic. I sat up straighter, my heart suddenly beating too fast.
What is that supposed to mean? I typed.
His reply came almost immediately.
It means if you don't let me see them, I can go there myself.
For a few seconds, I could not breathe properly.
The living room felt too bright.
Too quiet.
Too small.
No.
Absolutely not. He had no right to scare me like this. He had no right to walk back into our lives and threaten the little peace I had built with my own exhausted hands.
My thumb hovered over Liam's contact.
Call him.
That was my first instinct. Liam would know what to do. Liam would come. But then I stopped. He had just left yesterday. He had a meeting today. He had his own life, his own work, his own responsibilities.
I hated that I always needed help.
I hated that Adrian could make me feel helpless again.
My phone vibrated.
Adam again.
Zetty?
Another message followed.
You okay?
I stared at the screen.
How did he know? Maybe because I had gone quiet. Maybe because he was starting to notice things he had no business noticing. My eyes burned, but I blinked the feeling away. I was not going to cry. Not because of Adrian.
Not again.
I went back to Adrian's chat and typed carefully, forcing my fingers to stay steady.
Do not go to their school.
If you want to see the kids, we will arrange it properly.
Not today.
Not like this.
I hit send.
The blue ticks appeared almost immediately.
For a few moments, there was nothing. Then his reply came.
You don't get to decide everything anymore.
My stomach twisted.
Before I could respond, another message appeared.
I'm already nearby.
- Writer
