Tell the truth. Let them decide what to do with it

Lana’s pov

Six Years Later

The house was a mess of noise and footsteps, just the way it always was when we had a flight to catch.

“Brian! Daisy! Shoes on, now!” I called, stepping over a trail of soft toys and a suspicious patch of spilled juice.

They were five going on fifteen, those two. Always in charge, always full of opinions. I loved that about them, how they liked to do everything themselves, but it also meant we were always running late. They came racing down the stairs like a pair of wild puppies, laughing and nudging each other out of the way.

“Careful!” I warned. “No wrestling on the stairs. And grab some toast from the counter before we leave!”

I grabbed the suitcases and took them out to the car, not caring how gently I dropped them into the boot. We were flying to Gardena City today. It was a special week, the twins’ fifth birthday, and we were spending it with my mum.

My old house in Yale has become our home now. After everything that happened, I moved back in and made it ours. I wanted the twins to grow up in a place that felt safe and familiar. I had changed almost everything in it, the bathrooms, the kitchen, the paint on the walls, but the feeling was still the same. It felt like coming home.

Mum had left Yale a year ago. Her boyfriend, Fredrick, moved to Gardena City to be closer to his kids and grandchildren, and she followed him. I missed her, but I was proud of her. After years of being alone, she found someone who made her happy. Fredrick was kind, steady, and wonderful with the twins.

Growing up, it was just me. No siblings, no cousins. My parents were both only children too. But now, thanks to Fredrick, my children had cousins to run around with, kids their age to make memories with. It gave me a quiet kind of joy, knowing they had something I never did. Back inside, Brian was already smudging jam on his shirt, and Daisy was talking to her doll while munching toast. I sat beside them and watched for a moment, just taking it in.

They were my whole world. The last five years had tested me in ways I did not expect. Raising twins on my own, figuring out life again, missing their father more than I could say. But we made it. Together. Brian looked so much like Lee. Same blond hair, same bright blue eyes that always made me pause. He even had the same habit of tapping his fingers when he was thinking. And Daisy, she was all me. Big brown eyes and a head full of bouncy curls. When she tilted her head and gave me a look, I knew I was in trouble. She could ask for anything in that moment and I would probably say yes.

“Are we really going on a plane today, Mummy?” she asked, smiling wide.

“Yes, baby. We are.”

She clapped her hands and laughed, crumbs flying everywhere.

And just like that, the rush and the mess and the noise of the morning faded a little. I had two happy, healthy children. We had each other. That was everything.

"Mummy, can you tell us about our daddy?"

 The question landed like a punch to the chest.

 I choked on my orange juice and had to cough it down, thumping my chest while trying not to panic. So this was it. The moment I had been dreading without even knowing when it would come.  I always knew they would ask one day, but I thought I had more time. Five years should have been enough to prepare something, anything. Nine months carrying them. All those long nights rocking them to sleep. All those mornings making toast and wiping sticky hands. I should have seen it coming.

But I did not. I had been so focused on raising them, on loving them, on keeping us moving forward, that I barely looked back. The past felt like a different life, one I had buried carefully, piece by piece.

“Please, Mummy,” Brian said softly, his eyes wide. I sat still for a moment, my mind racing. What was I supposed to say? What part of the truth did five-year-olds need to hear?

“What would you like to know about him?” I asked gently, though every part of me wanted to run from this conversation.

“Why does he not want to be with us?” Daisy’s voice cracked. “Does he not like us?”

Her words hit harder than anything else ever had. My heart sank.

How long had she felt this way? And how did I not notice? Was I so caught up in surviving, in staying strong, that I missed the quiet sadness in my children’s hearts? Had I failed them by trying too hard to protect them? I never spoke about Lee, not once in five years. Maybe I thought if I stayed silent, the pain would stay away too.

“Oh sweetheart, no.”

 I rushed around the kitchen bench and pulled them both into my arms.

“No, no, no,” I whispered as I kissed their heads.

 “How could anyone not want to be with you? You are perfect. You are everything good in this world.”

“Then why do we never see him?” Brian frowned, and I felt something break inside me. That was it. I could not hide from this anymore. As much as I had gone back and forth over the years, telling myself they were too young, that the time was not right… This was the moment. They needed something. Not the full story, not yet. But something was true. Because none of this, none of this, was their fault.

“He does not know about you,” I said at last, voice low and careful. “That is the truth.”

I took their small hands and led them to the living room. We all climbed onto the couch together, and I knelt in front of them, placing my hands gently on their knees.

“I need you both to listen to me now, all right?”  Two nodded. Two sets of eyes on mine. And all I wanted in that moment was for them to believe what I was about to say.

“I know I never talk about your father. And for that… I’m so, so sorry.”  My voice shook as I looked into their wide, waiting eyes.

 “It’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just… I’ve never known what to say.” I took a deep breath.

 “It’s painful. It’s complicated. It’s... very grown-up. But please, believe me when I say this, none of it is your fault. Never has been.” I reached for their hands.

 “You are both kind, clever, beautiful little people. If he knew you, really knew you, he would love you so much. So, so much.” And that’s what hurt the most.  Because I knew, deep in my bones, that he would. He would love them. Completely. The only reason he didn’t was because… I never gave him the chance.

“Then why doesn’t he want to be with us?” Daisy asked. Tears shimmered in her lashes. I felt something crack inside me. When I left, I thought I was doing what was best. I never imagined this moment. This pain. I should have. I should’ve known they’d want to know one day. But I was selfish. I was scared. And now… it was hurting them.

“Baby,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat, “he doesn’t know. He didn’t know I was pregnant. I never told him.”

Their faces changed in an instant. Confusion, then sadness, then something like anger. Then a mess of feelings all at once. If only I could peek into their thoughts. Maybe then I could fix what I’d broken.

“But why doesn’t he know?” Brian asked. Always the curious one. Always needing answers. I smiled faintly at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

 “Because…” I hesitated. “Because Mommy made a big mistake.” They looked at me, wide-eyed and silent.

“You know how I always say it’s better to tell the truth? That lies just make things worse and can hurt people?” They nodded and were solemn.

“Well,” I said, blinking back tears, “Mommy didn’t tell the truth. She was scared. She thought if she told her friend what had happened, more people would get hurt. And Mommy loves her friends very much. She didn’t want that.”

“So instead of being brave, instead of saying, ‘I’m pregnant,’ or even just, ‘I’m sorry,’ she ran away.”

 I sighed. “I came back here to Nanny’s house, where no one would find out.” And I stayed. I stayed and built a life. A quiet one. But the past never stays buried, not forever. Just then, my phone alarm went off. The flight. I had almost forgotten. I winced. I didn’t want to drop this on them and then rush out the door, but we were cutting it close. And we hadn’t seen my mum in months. I needed her now. I needed someone to cry to. Someone who understood.

“Can we…” Daisy started, then paused, unsure what to say next. She opened her mouth, closed it again. I wish she’d asked. I wish we had more time. But right now, we didn’t.

“I promise we’ll talk more when we get to Nanny’s and Fredrick’s, okay?” I said, pulling them into a quick hug. “But we really have to leave now.”

With a heavy heart, I gathered our things and led them out to the car. I knew this wasn’t over. Not even close. And once we got there, I knew my mum would have something to say. She always did. For years, she’d told me the same thing:

 “Tell the truth. Let them decide what to do with it.”

She didn’t agree with the way I’d handled it then, or now, but she never judged me.  She stood by me. Held my hand. Kept my secret. And she loved my children fiercely, with everything she had.  For that alone, I was endlessly grateful.