Her Baby’s Secret

Arike’s POV

I heaved a sigh of relief when the doll stopped singing. I tried taking the doll from her as Iteoluwa as she lay on the bed, holding the singing doll to her chest but she grumbled in her sleep and held on to the doll. Then I just let her be and covered her and the doll with a duvet.

My gaze flickered to the wall clock, the time was 11:35pm, I should be asleep right now because we have a lot to do tomorrow but I wasn’t feeling sleepy and at the same time I was bored.

I stared into space as I got lost in thought. My mind reminisce on the coincidental meeting with Bamidele at the mall. I never expected him to be the first person as an old friend that I would see during my stay in Nigeria.

Who was I expecting to bump into? Adedayo. It seemed like everyone wanted me to see him even Bamidele because during our conversation he had hoped for me to see Adedayo soon.

I heaved a sigh. I knew right from time that it wouldn’t be easy to see Adedayo. He was probably busy with loads of work at the company. His responsibility was to monitor and oversee his family business as the CEO of the company.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I sat up and got out of the bed and began to pace when series of questions flooded my mind.

What if it was Dayo I had met at the mall? What would I have done? What if he has a son? What if his marriage to Shalewa was doing well now and they have grown to love each other?

No doubt, he would be able to tell that Iteoluwa was his child because she would have introduced herself as Iteoluwa Bright Awosika, making it easy for him to find out the truth just like how Bamidele has found out she was Dayo’s child.

The idea of warning my child to stop telling people her surname occurred to me and I bantered internally to see if it was the right thing to do but in the end, I kicked against the idea.

“You can’t hide Iteoluwa from her father forever. She is bound to ask of her father someday.” Uncle Badejo’s words echoed in my mind.

He was right. Even thought Iteoluwa wasn’t asking about her father now, someday she would grow up to need a father in her life.

To be honest, coming back to Nigeria was a hard decision to make. And I won’t deny that I was nervous about seeing Dayo. I have tried to envision the look on his face, the words he would say and what he would do when he finds out about his child. Would he accept her? What would people say ? His mom, dad and his sisters? These things bothered me so much.

Tears stirred up in my eyes as I went back to the bed and I knelt down beside Iteoluwa. I looked closely at my child, my hands reached out to caress her cheeks. A tear slipped down my right cheek as I held her hand and kissed it. She was my world, the reason why I lived and why I gave up everything because I wanted her to live too.

I closed my eyes and sobbed quietly. “I.. am.. sorry..” I whispered.

I was sorry for many things, for having her out of wedlock, for not giving her a father that she deserved, for holding back in bringing her to Nigeria knowing that it would be a great chance to meet her father… I cried.

I lowered my head. “I.. am.. so.. sorry.” I muttered.

“Mom.. my.” Her voice called out in a rasp.

I peered up at her. “My.. love.”

She stared at me with sleepy eyes. “Mommy.. are you crying?” She asked.

“No.. no.. I am not crying.” I let go of her hand and wiped my face.

“Yes.. you are crying and you look sad too.” She tried to sit up but I pushed her back gently.

“No.. I am not sad. You should get back to sleep, it is late.” I sniffed.

“Are you okay mommy?” She asked with a disturbed look.

“Yes I am fine.” I covered her with the duvet but she sat up immediately before I could stop her.

“Don’t act.. like you are fine.” She muttered.

Then tears flowed again and I couldn’t control it. Why was I feeling bad for my child?

“You have never cried like this..” her hands reached out to my face.

“I.. am.. sorry…” I sobbed.

“Mommy please don’t cry.” Her voice pleaded with me.

She moved closer and wiped my tears with her ring fingers. “Mommmy,” she called.

I sniffed and looked up at her. “Tell me why you are crying?” She said.

“It is late..”

“I want to know why you are crying late at night.” She said.

“I am sorry.” I replied.

“Why do you keep saying sorry?” She locked our hands.

“Because… I have done something really bad to you.” I answered.

“What did you do? You have never done anything bad to me.”

“I have done so many bad things that has affected you.” I managed to look into her eyes even though I felt embarrassed to do so.

“No-”

My body shook vehemently as tears flowed continuously. “I lied to you.” I said.

“Mom-” I cut her off.

“Iteoluwa-” I paused trying to control my tears.

“I will.. tell you everything..” I cried.

I pulled her into my arms for a warm embrace. “I will tell you everything.. you have to know everything but promise me that.. you will never hate me for hurting you.” I begged her.

“I can never hate you mommy.” She said.

“But mommy has done something bad to you.” I pulled away from the embrace to look into her eyes.

“I can never hate you.” She repeated.

And I could see the sincerity in her eyes and read it in her words.

“Thank you.” I sniffed and wiped my tears.

We sat comfortably on the bed with the duvet covering us while Iteoluwa head rested on my chest with my arms wrapped around her.

It was now or never. It was better to tell her the truth myself than for Dayo to show up out of the blues. She would be really disturbed and shocked if we bump into Adedayo without her knowing the truth and my reason for not making her meet her father before now.