A Dad
1186 Words
Irene lay on her bed, eyes wide open, the dim light from the window casting soft shadows on the wall. She had not slept a wink.
All through the night, her mind had been a restless reel, playing and replaying the moments from the trip with Mr. Blackwood.
The hotel. His voice. His gaze. Each time she tried to shake the memories away, they returned stronger—clearer. And every time, she found herself blushing like a schoolgirl.
She tossed on the bed, tangled in her sheets, her cheeks warm from embarrassment. “Ugh, stop it,” she mumbled into her pillow. “He probably doesn’t even think about you. Get a grip, Irene.”
Just then—beep! beep! beep!
The sharp sound of the alarm pierced the silence. She jolted upright, heart pounding, momentarily dazed.
“What?” She reached for her phone, blinking at the time. “Did I really stay up all night thinking about a man who might not even care about me?” she muttered, dragging a hand down her face.
With a groan, she threw off the covers and scrambled out of bed. “Shoot, the kids—school!”
She rushed into the hallway but skidded to a stop at the sight of Levi in the living room, already dressed and casually sipping coffee. Ethan and Eli sat side by side, watching cartoons with toast in hand and their schoolbags at their feet.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Levi said, without even looking at her.
Irene blinked, stunned. “You... you dressed them?”
Levi turned, smirking. “Of course I did. Somebody had to be the adult around here.”
Irene rushed over, nearly choking her in a tight hug. “Oh my God, Levi. I love you. Like, so much. You can’t even begin to understand how grateful I am right now. Girl, what would I do without you?”
Levi rolled her eyes. “Please, please. You sound so cringy right now. Keep the mushy stuff for Mr. Blackwood or whatever man kept you up all night.”
Irene gasped. “I—what? No one kept me—shut up.”
Levi smirked again, smug. “Uh-huh. Anyway, I made toast and eggs. What do you want for breakfast?”
“I don’t care,” Irene groaned. “Just feed me. I’m starving.”
She plopped down on the couch between the boys. “And what are my coochie-coochie-coo babies doing, hmm?” she teased, playfully poking Ethan’s cheek.
Ethan giggled and leaned into her hug, while Eli gave her a skeptical side-eye.
“Aren’t you going to hug me too?” she asked Eli.
Eli huffed. “Mama, I’m not a baby anymore. I’ve already brushed my teeth and packed my bag. I don’t need cheek rubs.”
Levi called from the kitchen, “Who told you guys you’re not babies? You’ll always be our babies—forever!”
But just then, Ethan turned to his mother with a curious look. “Mama... do we have a dad?”
The room fell dead silent.
Irene froze, her heart thudding painfully. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. “Um… Ethan… what brought up that question, sweetheart? Did something happen at school?”
Ethan shook his head. “Nothing happened. I just... I was wondering. Everyone else in class has a dad. Why don’t we?”
Irene swallowed hard. She could feel the heat rise to her face, but this time it wasn’t from blushing. She glanced at Eli—who had been unusually quiet—only for him to echo his brother softly, “Yes, Mama. Why don’t we have a dad?”
Levi quickly stepped in. “Alright, boys! That’s enough questions for one morning. Time to go, let’s not be late. Your school’s over an hour away, remember?” She clapped her hands and handed them their bags. “Let’s go, let’s go! Bags, shoes, snacks—move it!”
As she herded the boys out the door, Irene mouthed a silent thank you to Levi.
And Levi also shot her a wink In response.
When the door closed behind them, Irene stood motionless in the hallway, her shoulders slowly slumping. That one question had undone her—cracked open something she had buried deep.
She dragged herself to the bathroom, her thoughts heavy, and took a long shower. The warmth did little to chase away the chill in her chest.
By the time she arrived at work, she was ten minutes early—a rare occurrence. She scanned the office. Mr. Blackwood wasn’t in yet.
Relieved, she sat at her desk, but instead of diving into work, she leaned forward, resting her head on folded arms.
The question still lingered. Why don’t we have a dad?
She closed her eyes, willing herself to forget.
But just as Irene closed her eyes, hoping for even a moment of peace, the darkness behind her lids betrayed her.
The memories came rushing in like a storm—uninvited, violent, and cruel.
That night.
The night everything changed.
She hadn’t meant to remember it, hadn’t wanted to. But the mind, it seemed, had its own twisted sense of timing.
It was supposed to be just another evening out. A celebration. She was in love. She was happy. She thought Dave was too.
But then came Diane. Her best friend. Her sister in every way that mattered.
And the betrayal.
The lies.
The moment she walked in and saw them—tangled, laughing, drunk on the taste of their own wickedness—her world had shattered in a single breath.
She had run. Out of the house. Out of the street. Into the night.
Tears had blurred her vision. Her heart had been a hollow drum echoing inside her chest.
She didn’t remember the club she stumbled into, nor the music pounding through her skull. All she remembered was the ache. The devastation. And the desire to erase it all, even if only for one night.
That night, in the haze of alcohol and heartbreak, she had given herself to a stranger.
And now—two children later—she still couldn’t remember his face.
Not even a silhouette.
Not his voice.
Not his touch.
Nothing.
Only the empty cold of a hotel room and the crushing loneliness that came after.
She pressed her forehead harder against her desk, her hands trembling slightly. How do you explain that to your sons? That they were born from a memory you can’t even recall?
And even more painful… how do you explain that the man who should have loved her had tossed her aside like she was nothing?
A tear slipped down her cheek.
She quickly wiped it away.
There was no time for this. She was at work.
But Ethan’s question still echoed in her mind like a haunting lullaby.
“Mama… do we have a dad?”
Those innocent words kept hammering her in her heart.
She bit her lip, staring at the blank computer screen.
She would need to find an answer.
Soon.
- Writer
