تسجيل الدخولElena kept the card Alexander gave her on the kitchen counter for three days. Just sitting there next to the sugar bowl like it was nothing special. Every time she walked past it she felt a little pull in her stomach. Not fear exactly. More like the feeling you get when you know you're about to do something you might regret but can't quite stop yourself.
Theo asked about Alex twice. Once while eating cereal, once while brushing his teeth. "When's Alex coming again?" Simple question. Innocent. Elena answered the same both times: "Soon, maybe." She hated how easy the lie felt. Thursday morning she woke up early. Theo still asleep. Rain tapping the window. She picked up the card. Turned it over. Blank on the back. Just the number. No name. No company logo. Like he wanted to make it easy to forget who he really was. She typed the number into her phone. Stared at it. Thumb hovering over the call button. Then she deleted the draft message she'd started yesterday. Typed a new one instead. Hi. It's Elena. Theo keeps asking about you. Coffee Saturday? Same park. 10am. Just us three. She hit send before she could overthink it. The reply came in less than a minute. I'll be there. Thank you. No emojis. No extra words. Just that. Saturday came too fast. Elena dressed Theo in his red jacket this time. The one that made him look like a little fire truck. She wore a green sweater she hadn't pulled out in months. Felt strange putting it on. Like she was trying too hard or not hard enough. They got to the park a few minutes early. Same bench. Theo ran straight for the swings. Elena sat down. Hands in her lap. Watching the gate. Alexander showed up in the same hoodie and cap. Hands in pockets again. He spotted them and walked over slow. Like he was giving her time to change her mind. "Morning," he said when he reached the bench. "Morning." Theo saw him and waved big. "Alex!" Alexander smiled. Small. Real. "Hey, champ." Theo ran over. Hugged his leg like last time. Alexander ruffled his hair. Gentle. Then looked at Elena. "Thanks for this." She nodded. "He wouldn't stop talking about the bubbles." Alexander pulled another small bottle from his pocket. "Brought more." Theo cheered. Took off running with the wand. Bubbles floating everywhere. They sat on the bench. Not too close. Not too far. Elena kept her eyes on Theo. Alexander did the same. After a minute he spoke. Quiet. "How's work going?" She almost laughed. "You mean at your company?" "Yeah." "It's... fine. Busy. The team is nice." "Good." He paused. "If it's too much pressure being there—" "It's not." She cut him off. "I need the job. The pay helps." He nodded. Didn't push. Theo came back. Out of breath. "Mommy, Alex, come push me!" Elena stood. Alexander did too. They walked to the swings. Alexander took one side. Elena the other. They pushed together. Theo giggling every time he went high. For a few minutes it felt normal. Like any family on a Saturday morning. Elena caught herself smiling. Real smile. Not the tight one she used for strangers. When Theo got tired they went back to the bench. He climbed between them. Leaned against Elena. Yawning. Alexander looked at him. Then at her. "He's tired." "Yeah. Long week." Alexander reached into his pocket again. Pulled out a small toy car. Red. Shiny. "Thought he might like this." Elena tensed. "You didn't have to." "I wanted to." Theo's eyes lit up. Took the car. Started making engine noises. Elena watched him play. Then looked at Alexander. "Thank you." He met her eyes. "I mean it, Elena. I don't want to buy my way in. I just want to be here." She didn't answer right away. Watched Theo roll the car along the bench. "I know," she said finally. Soft. "But it's hard. Trusting this." "I get it." He leaned forward. Elbows on knees. "I left that night because I was scared. Of what I felt. Of what it could mean. I thought an envelope would make it clean. Easy. I was wrong." Elena swallowed. "I kept the money. For rent. For doctor visits. For everything." "I don't blame you." Silence again. Not uncomfortable this time. Just heavy with things unsaid. Theo looked up. "Mommy, can Alex come to my birthday?" Elena froze. Birthday was three weeks away. Small party. Just her, Mrs. Alvarez, maybe one preschool friend. Alexander looked at her. Waiting. She took a breath. "We'll see, okay?" Theo pouted but nodded. Alexander stood. "I should go. Let you two head home." Theo hugged him again. Quick. Tight. "Bye Alex." "Bye, buddy." Alexander looked at Elena one last time. "Call me. Anytime." She nodded. He walked away. Elena watched him until he disappeared through the gate. Theo tugged her hand. "Ice cream?" She smiled. "Ice cream." They left the park. Theo chattering about the car. Elena holding the toy in her pocket like it weighed nothing. But it did. Because later that night, after Theo was asleep, she opened her laptop. Searched Alexander Voss. Found articles. Photos. Interviews. The empire. The headlines. The women on his arm at galas. One photo stopped her cold. Him at a charity event last year. Smiling. Arm around a tall blonde. Caption: Voss and fiancée spotted together. Fiancée. Elena closed the laptop. Sat in the dark. Heart pounding. She had let him in. Just a little. And now she wondered if she'd opened the door to something she couldn't close again. Across town, Alexander sat in his penthouse. Staring at the same photo of Theo he'd saved from Elena's phone. He opened his email. The report from his investigator was waiting. Birth certificate. Hospital records. Preschool enrollment. And one line that made his stomach drop. Father listed as unknown. He closed the email. Picked up his phone. Dialed a number. "Cancel the rest of the background check," he said. Pause. "Yeah. All of it." He hung up. Then stared at Theo's photo again. One step at a time. He just hoped he hadn't already taken too many.The rain returned on the third night after the funeral, heavier than before, like the sky itself was grieving. Elena sat alone in the living room, the lights off, only the blue glow from the television lighting her face. She hadn’t turned the sound on. She didn’t need to hear anything. She just needed to see something move.Theo had left that morning. He hugged her too long at the door, whispered “Call me if anything feels wrong,” and drove back to Lagos with his wife and the twins. Amara had flown out the day before, promising to bring her daughters for the weekend. Kai had called from New York at noon, voice thick, saying he’d be home next month. Nia had stayed until yesterday evening, then hugged her mother and said, “I’m only two hours away. I’ll come whenever you need me.”Now the house was empty.Elena didn’t cry.She hadn’t cried since the hospital. Not at the funeral. Not when they lowered the coffin. Not when the grandchildren asked why Grandpa wasn’t waking up. She had smile
The rain came back on the first anniversary of Alexander’s death, not gently this time, but with a low, angry growl that rolled in from the Atlantic and refused to leave. It hammered the Lekki compound roof like fists, rattled the windows, flooded the garden paths into muddy streams. Elena woke to it at 3:47 a.m., heart already pounding before her eyes opened. She lay still for a long moment, listening to the storm tear at the palms outside, feeling the old fear crawl up her spine—the fear she thought she had buried with him.She reached for the bedside lamp. The light came on weak and yellow. Alexander’s side of the bed was cold, the pillow untouched. She sat up slowly, eighty-one years of living pressing against her bones. Her hand found the small wooden box on the nightstand—the one he had kept locked for decades. She opened it without thinking, the way she had opened it every year on this date since he left.Inside, the letters were still there. The USB drive (copies made long ago
The rain had become a language Elena spoke fluently by her eighty-third year. She could tell the difference between the sharp, angry downpour that came with arguments and the soft, forgiving mist that followed forgiveness. Tonight it was the latter—gentle, almost hesitant, as if the sky itself was unsure whether to speak or stay silent. She sat on the veranda in the rocking chair, the same one that had rocked her through every storm and sunrise since the old penthouse days. The blanket across her lap was threadbare now, but it still smelled faintly of jasmine and Alexander’s aftershave, even though he had been gone seven years.The compound was quiet. The children and grandchildren had left after the weekend celebration of her birthday. Theo had flown back to Lagos with promises to return next month. Amara had hugged her tightly and whispered, “I’ll bring the girls for Christmas.” Kai had played one last song on the veranda—something new, something sad and hopeful—and kissed her foreh
The rain returned on the first anniversary of Alexander’s death, not as a storm but as a quiet, persistent visitor. It tapped against the veranda roof of the Lekki compound like someone too polite to knock loudly, soft enough to be background music, steady enough to remind Elena of every rainy day that had shaped her life. She sat in the rocking chair—the one that had traveled from the old penthouse balcony—wrapped in the same wool blanket she had used on the night he slipped away. At eighty-two, the chair still fit her perfectly, as if it had grown old with her.The house was full again. Theo and his wife had arrived the day before with their grown children and the twins’ toddlers. Amara had flown in from London with her daughters. Kai had come from New York, guitar case in hand. Nia had brought her family from Abuja, including the newest great-grandchild, a six-month-old girl named after Elena. The courtyard had echoed with laughter, the smell of jollof rice and pepper soup, the cla
The rain had returned by the time Elena opened the second envelope. It wasn’t the violent downpour of her youth, nor the steady drumming that had accompanied so many turning points in her life. This was a soft, almost apologetic rain—drops tapping lightly against the veranda roof like someone too polite to knock loudly. She sat in the rocking chair, the same one that had rocked her through pregnancies, grief, joy, and now this. The envelope in her lap was heavier than it looked. Cream paper, slightly yellowed, sealed with old wax that had cracked in places but still held. Alexander’s handwriting on the front:For Elena – Open when the rain remembers.She had found it that morning, tucked inside the back cover of the final bound volume of her manuscript—the one she had finished writing after his death. She hadn’t noticed it before. Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to. The book had been her way of keeping him close; maybe she had saved this letter for when she needed him most.Her fingers s
The rain had started again by the time Elena opened the second envelope. It wasn’t the violent downpour of her youth, nor the steady drumming that had accompanied so many turning points in her life. This was a soft, almost apologetic rain—drops tapping lightly against the veranda roof like someone too polite to knock loudly. She sat in the rocking chair, the same one that had rocked her through pregnancies, grief, joy, and now this. The envelope in her lap was heavier than it looked. Cream paper, slightly yellowed, sealed with old wax that had cracked in places but still held. Alexander’s handwriting on the front:For Elena – Open when the rain remembers.She had found it that morning, tucked inside the back cover of the final bound volume of her manuscript—the one she had finished writing after his death. She hadn’t noticed it before. Or perhaps she hadn’t wanted to. The book had been her way of keeping him close; maybe she had saved this letter for when she needed him most.Her fing







