Jide
After Ireti and I parted ways, I stopped by the toy store, I didn’t know what kind of toys Tife was into so I got all kinds. Cars, trains, airplanes, building blocks, a bicycle, all sorts and paint. I wanted to paint his room blue because Google said it was a common colour with little boys.
“I see you have decided to keep the child in you alive” Dunnie teased when I entered the house.
“But you do know you can’t hop on that bicycle, right?” Dunnie raised her brows.
“They are not for me” I replied.
“They are for who then?” she questioned before sipping from her bottled water.
“My son”
“What!” she exclaimed, choking.
“Easy now” I rushed to her, rubbing her back.
“What do you mean your son?” she resumed questioning the second she stopped coughing.
“Ireti and I have a son”
“What… Oh My God, the boy at the mall” she gasped
I nodded.
“Now I know why I was so sure I had seen him somewhere. He is a mini you. Oh My God I am an aunt. Oh My God, mummy is a grandma” she squealed.
“Aunty Taiye is already a grandma and you have nieces and nephews” I stated.
“Well not from your part of the family so it makes a huge difference” she tackled.
“So, she just kept him from you for four years? That’s pretty cold”
“I wouldn’t blame her” Dunnie and Aunty Taiye were still in the dark about what happened between Ireti and I. They both believed Ireti abandoned me.
“Dunnie! Kini gbogbo eleyi now? Why are you shouting?” Aunty Taiye came downstairs looking pretty irritated.
“Jide has a son” Dunnie beat me to the reveal.
“Ehn, what is Dunnie talking about?” Aunty Taiye shifted her gaze to me.
I kept mute.
“Jide, I am talking to you. How do you have a son?” she pressed on.
“It is complicated” I massaged my forehead.
“Ehen, you will break it down now. Its simple English”
“I have a son with Ireti” I answered.
“Ireti? Which Ireti? The one that left you die. How?”
“The normal way people get pregnant. Five years ago, we did that normal thing people do to… Aunty Taiye I don’t want to talk about this. Just know I have a son and he is coming in tomorrow” it felt awkward
“I need to set up his room so I am going to go now” I announced and walked out.
“But we are not done talking Jide, Jide!” Aunty Taiye called but I didn’t look back.
I changed into my work cloth and started to paint his room. It was a good thing I was an artist, I had little knowledge about painting. I had one more wall to paint when Aunty Taiye entered the room. She glanced at the work I had done but maintained silence. Her silence worried me so I blurted out “I probably should have called a painter” it turned out painting on paper and walls were two different things.
“Why didn’t you?” she asked.
“Because I wanted to do it. A fatherly gesture” I dropped the paint brush in the bucket and sat down on the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Broken | ✓
Romance"You are damaged and broken and unhinged. But so are shooting stars and comets" ~Nikita Gill Ireti Alabi is a young woman in her late 20s scarred with a past that leaves her with broken pieces of herself. She hides her pain beautifully beh...
