Me ✓

#27

My heart fell into my stomach as I spotted my father. He was so happy, how could that be? I believed father was devastated by mother's departure, but the man who was standing at the door looked nothing like he did all those days ago. Was my father no longer affected?

He moved towards the other end of the cafe, dropping his phones onto a table and then taking a seat. He adjusted his red polo shirt collar and basically chewed on his lip as he waited.

Was my father really fidgeting over a woman, my Lord what was this. A tinder date? My eyes were fixed on my father as I used a novel to cover the most parts of my face. I needed to get closer, close enough to hear what was going on.

So, I gathered my stuff and subtly headed towards the toilet. I waited in one of the stalls for 5 minutes and then walked out. I subtly scanned the area, looking for somewhere to sit. A place with just enough distance to allow me perfectly eavesdrop and still stay hidden.

Luckily for me, a group of adults vacated their area and moved to head outside, providing me a shield to quickly and easily slip into their seats which where right behind my father.

The seat my dad had taken was right beside the window on the east side or the cafe. He sat on the chair facing the West side, allowing me to sit right behind him with him not knowing a thing.

This was risky. If I got caught, I would lose my freedom forever, my allowance would be cut and I would be whooped like a thief. There was no telling if I would survive it all.

I didn't have time to regret my actions because right after I sat, I heard my dad cheerily greet someone and it was followed by a surely feminine voice. My theories were correct afterall, father was here meeting a woman, a woman suspected to have caused the fall of his marriage.

"So how are you?" She started off the conversation. Dad took his time, before clearing his throat and with a hint of sadness in his tone, "She left, Nifemi. She got everything wrong. She thinks we're together."

I heard some shuffling, maybe to touch hands or something  and then a small sigh, most likely from her. "I didn't know. Maybe I should try talking to her-" She was abruptly cut off. "My wife, is a lunatic. I love her indeed, but she would kill you at first sight. No offence."

There was a seconds pause before they both bursted out into laughter. "I mean, I'm just a party planner. There was nothing to worry about, your wife just needs to know that." A party planner?  Then there was another sigh, this time it was my father's.

"I've tried everything. Everything. She's not picking my calls and she's acting like a child. I don't know what to do." There was this thing in his voice. It was sad and depressing. Its effect on me, being his daughter, felt like having needles stabbed into my back. Defeat.

He sounded like he was going to give up, like he was at the brink and all he had left was this little glimmer of hope he was trying so badly to hold on to. "What about your daughter?"

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my existence and I could feel a lump form in my throat. Fear was having it's toll on me, this was why I didn't do bad things. I rubbed my shaking hands against my lap and took deep breaths, I was fine.

"Kolupo? I don't know if she's been in contact. I hope so though." She hasn't. Since the day my mum walked out of our home, She hadn't contacted me in any way, almost like she forgot me. What a mother.

They had stopped talking about it and had diverted to something else I didn't care about and I realized how stupid I was for suspecting dad's happiness. He was trying to forget what had happened, trying to push it aside when deep down he was crushed. And there I was putting him down. I had gotten what I came here for, answers and I had no reason being here or judging dad's happiness.

Dad wasn't a cheater. Nifemi was not a whore. My mother, She was the real floozy here, because now I was doubting if she loved me.

"Kolupo!"

"Sir?"

"Get me a bottle of water."

Dad had snapped me out of my thinking and I was grateful. I couldn't help but replay that day at the cafe over and over in my head.  The more I thought about it, the more hurt I felt. Till date, mother had still not called or texted me in any way.

I tried to give her excuses. Maybe her phone was lost, maybe she was too devastated. Or maybe she just didn't care anymore, maybe she thought I would be fine with my father, maybe she was gone for good.

Things just seemed to be getting worse.