The Truth I Buried
1661 Words
Night settled quietly over the house.
For the first time in many days, Daniel was home. No needles, no nurses walking in and out, no strange smell of medicine. Just the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the familiar sound of cartoons playing in the living room.
He sat on the couch between his parents, though he leaned more against his father. His body was still weak, but his eyes were bright.
Sandra sat on the floor, legs crossed, laughing at the television.
Daniel smiled. “I missed this show.” Daddy look, it's spongebob.
Gabriel glanced down at him. “You missed everything.”
Daniel nodded seriously. “Even mummy’s rice.”
Prisca, who was arranging plates on the dining table, paused and smiled softly. “You said you don’t like my rice last week.”
Daniel shrugged. “Hospital food is worse.”
They all laughed lightly.
For a few minutes, it felt normal.
They later moved to the dining table. Prisca served dinner carefully, watching Daniel’s plate more than anyone else’s.
He tried to eat on his own, but after a few bites, he slowed down.
“I’m full,” he said quietly.
Gabriel looked at him. “You’ve barely eaten.”
“I can’t.”
Gabriel didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled Daniel’s chair closer and began feeding him slowly, and patiently.
“Just a little more,” he said softly.
Daniel obeyed.
Prisca watched them from across the table.
Gabriel wiped Daniel’s mouth when sauce touched his chin. He gave him water. Then he brought out his medicine and handed it to him gently.
Daniel made a face. “I hate this one.”
“I know,” Gabriel replied calmly. “But it’s helping you.”
Daniel swallowed it.
Sandra watched them quietly.
Prisca felt something heavy settle inside her chest.
Gabriel had not raised his voice once since they came home.
He had not looked at her either.
After dinner, Gabriel cleared Daniel’s plate before Prisca could reach it.
“I’ll handle this,” he said simply.
She nodded.
Later, he sat on the floor and played a simple board game with both children. Daniel laughed when he won a round.
“You cheated!” Sandra accused.
“I didn’t!” Daniel argued weakly.
Gabriel smiled faintly. “No fighting. Winner takes all.”
Daniel looked at him proudly. “That’s me.”
Prisca stood near the kitchen entrance, watching.
She wanted to step in. To sit beside them. To join the laughter.
But something stopped her.
An invisible wall.
After a while, Gabriel stood up.
“Alright,” he said gently. “Bedtime.”
“Aww,” Sandra groaned.
Daniel leaned back against the couch. “Can I stay five more minutes?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Doctor said you need rest.”
Daniel sighed but didn’t argue.
Gabriel bent down and carried Sandra first. Then he came back for Daniel.
For a brief second, Prisca thought he would ask her to help.
He didn’t.
He carried both children carefully, one after the other, and walked down the hallway.
Prisca remained in the kitchen, washing the dishes slowly.
The sound of running water filled the silence.
She could hear Gabriel’s voice from the children’s room.
Soft and calm. He was singing.
It was one of the rhymes he always sang when they were younger. A simple tune about the moon and stars.
Prisca’s hands stopped moving.
She dried them quickly and walked quietly toward the children’s room.
The door was slightly open.
She peeped inside.
Gabriel sat between the two small beds. Daniel was already half asleep. Sandra lay quietly, staring at her father as he rubbed her hair gently.
His voice was low and steady.
He looked peaceful.
That sight melted her heart.
For a moment, she remembered the early days of their marriage. How gentle he was. How careful.
How safe she felt with him.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
She stepped back quietly so he wouldn’t see her watching.
She went to the bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom.
The warm water from the shower ran down her body, but it couldn’t wash away the fear building inside her.
Tonight.
They needed to talk tonight.
She couldn’t carry this weight anymore.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in her nightwear, she paused.
Gabriel was already on the bed.
The lights were off except for the small bedside lamp.
He lay on his side, facing away from her.
Too still, and too quiet.
Prisca stood there for a moment, studying him.
Was he really asleep?
Or pretending?
She slowly walked toward the bed and sat down carefully.
The mattress dipped slightly under her weight.
He didn’t move.
She hesitated.
Then she reached out and tapped his shoulder gently.
“Gabriel.”
No response.
She tapped again, a little firmer.
“Gabriel.”
He sighed faintly but didn’t turn.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” she said softly.
A long pause.
Then his voice came, low and calm.
“Talk about what exactly?”
He didn’t turn around.
Prisca’s heart began to pound.
She swallowed. “About us.”
Another silence.
Gabriel slowly turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
“What about us?” he asked.
His voice was steady. Controlled.
That scared her more than anger would have.
Prisca clasped her hands together.
“About what you found out,” she whispered.
He finally turned his head to look at her.
His eyes were not red with anger.
They were tired.
“Which part?” he asked quietly. “The part where I found out my son doesn’t share my blood?”
The words felt like a slap.
Prisca flinched.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” she said quickly.
He let out a soft laugh.
“Like what?”
She opened her mouth but no words came out.
Gabriel sat up slowly and leaned against the headboard.
“I need you to say it clearly,” he said. “Because I’m tired of guessing.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Daniel is not your biological son,” she said, her voice shaking.
The words hung in the air.
Gabriel nodded once.
“I know.”
Silence.
“But he is my son,” Gabriel added firmly.
Prisca looked up quickly.
His jaw tightened.
“I raised him. I was there when he took his first steps. I was there when he said his first word. Blood doesn’t erase that.”
Her tears fell freely now.
“But,” he continued, “what I don’t understand is you.”
She looked down.
“Who is his father?” he asked calmly.
The question felt heavier than any shout.
Prisca hesitated.
Gabriel watched her closely.
“Is he alive?” he asked.
She nodded slowly.
“Does he know?”
Her silence answered him.
Gabriel closed his eyes briefly.
“So he doesn’t even know he has a son?”
Prisca shook her head.
Gabriel looked away, running his hand over his face.
“Why?” he asked quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me before we got married?”
Her voice trembled. “I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Losing you.”
He let out a bitter smile.
“And now?”
She had no answer.
The room felt heavy.
Gabriel stood up from the bed and walked toward the window.
“I kept thinking,” he said softly, “maybe there was a mistake. Maybe the test was wrong.”
Prisca’s heart skipped.
“What do you mean?”
He turned slowly.
“The doctor didn’t just test for blood compatibility,” he said. “He ran a paternity check after seeing the mismatch.”
Prisca felt the air leave her lungs.
“And?” she whispered.
Gabriel held her gaze.
“I asked him to repeat it.”
Her knees weakened.
“And?” she asked again, barely breathing.
Gabriel’s voice was calm.
“It confirmed what you already knew.”
The room went silent again.
Prisca began to cry harder.
“I never stopped loving you,” she said desperately. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
Gabriel’s expression softened for a brief second.
“That’s the problem,” he said quietly. “You decided for me.”
She looked confused.
“You decided I wouldn’t accept him. You decided I would leave. You decided everything for me.”
“I was afraid,” she whispered.
“I deserved the truth.”
The words were not loud.
But they were sharp.
Gabriel walked back toward the bed but did not sit.
“For now,” he said slowly, “Daniel stays protected. No fighting. No tension in front of him.”
Prisca nodded quickly.
“And Sandra?” she asked softly.
His eyes flickered.
“What about her?”
“She’s yours,” Prisca said immediately.
He studied her face carefully.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.
The question cut deep.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “She is yours.”
He nodded slowly.
Silence returned once more.
Finally, Gabriel lay back down, turning away from her again.
“We will talk more,” he said calmly. “But not tonight.”
Prisca wiped her tears.
“Gabriel—”
“Not tonight,” he repeated.
She lay down beside him, staring at his back.
The space between them felt wider than the bed itself.
In the children’s room, Daniel shifted in his sleep and murmured softly.
“Daddy…”
Gabriel’s eyes opened immediately.
“I’m here,” he whispered under his breath.
Prisca heard it.
And she realized something.
He was still there.
But she didn’t know for how long.
Outside, the night grew deeper.
Inside the room, two people lay side by side.
Close in distance.
Far in truth.
And neither of them slept.
- Writer
