Drake came home looking like he’d seen a ghost.
Pale. Flustered. Could barely get his words out.
He saw her.
His wife.
Apparently Meela’s in Cahaya.
Did he even know she was coming? Didn’t seem like it.
What kind of shit-for-brains doesn’t even know his wife is traveling internationally to see him?
Did she even know he was leaving?
Actually, I asked him that when he first told us why he was here. I remember now.
He’d been texting her nonstop. She didn’t want to talk to him. The nanny had to FaceTime him with the kids.
Pathetic.
That’s not how you raise a family. That’s not how we were raised to understand family.
But I could see how desperate he was.
So I said yes.
Yes, I’d go with him. Yes, I’d meet his wife. Yes, I’d meet my nieces.
Of course I wanted to meet them.
Nearly a year of my oldest niece’s life gone by without even knowing she existed.
Thanks, Drake.
I wasn’t going to take that out on the girls. I don’t want to be the angry uncle. They didn’t do anything wrong.
The house was ridiculous.
Massive. Beautiful. The kind of place you look around and wonder what anyone could possibly need all that space for.
Of course she has money.
Lucky for her. She doesn’t actually need him.
Good.
I’ve got to stop doing that.
There was a nanny there. Miles.
I didn’t know his name before, but I remembered his face. He used to spend summers working at the fish shop. I don’t know where he’s originally from, but he’d been around Cahaya since we were kids.
Funny seeing him there.
Part of their household. Part of this whole life Drake built that none of us even knew existed.
And then there was Meela.
She’s beautiful, sure. So is everybody.
It wasn’t that.
I remember her from the restaurant years ago. Mom’s birthday. Drake practically lost his mind when he saw her.
I thought she was just another tourist.
I don’t think I really looked at her back then.
She surprised me today.
When she looked at Drake, there was something in her eyes.
Hate?
Maybe not hate. I don’t know.
Whatever it was, she corrected herself quickly. Quicker than I would have.
She was warm with me. Genuinely welcoming. But there was a firmness about her, too. Something that made me immediately conscious of how I was behaving in her home.
Not because she was intimidating.
Well.
Maybe a little.
She smiled. Asked questions. Seemed genuinely happy to meet me.
And I think she was.
But I caught her a couple of times when she didn’t think anyone was watching.
The pain was obvious.
I wonder if Drake even knows what he’s apologizing for when he says he’s sorry to her.
Does he ever?
The girls.
God.
The girls are wonderful.
Akello. That’s the older one. She’s got a mind of her own. You tell her to do something and she’ll look at you like she’s deciding whether you’re worth listening to.
I tried correcting her a couple of times.
Didn’t get very far.
She looks like Drake.
A little like Mom, too, I think.
And the baby, Alaia.
She’s different. Quiet. Almost like she’s asking permission every time she looks up at you.
Those little fingers.
The tiny strands of hair.
I don’t even know how to explain it.
They’re perfect.
I looked at Akello and my stomach just dropped.
That’s my niece.
My brother’s daughter.
And I didn’t even know she existed.
I was angry about that before I walked in. I still am.
But holding them, watching them, hearing their little voices…
For a few minutes I forgot.
I forgot how angry I was.
I forgot about everything, really.
Then Meela came over.
She put her hand on my shoulder and said she was sorry.
Sorry I hadn’t known the girls sooner.
Sorry she hadn’t known me sooner.
I almost lost it.
I don’t think she realized how close I was.
Or maybe she did.
That’s the thing about her.
She doesn’t listen the way most people listen. She’s not just waiting for her turn to speak. She pays attention to things you haven’t said.
I’d been watching her in those little moments all evening.
I guess she’d been watching me, too.
Thirty minutes.
I’d known this woman for maybe thirty minutes, and somehow she understood something I’ve been carrying around for years.
I wanted to say something back.
I don’t remember what I said.
Probably something stupid.
I keep thinking about the way she looked at Drake.
And the way he looked at her.
I want to hate him for hurting her, and I only just met her.
I already hated him for enough.
But there’s so much love there.
Not just between them. I don’t even know what’s left between them.
I mean in that house.
In that room.
The girls. Meela. Even Miles, the way he moves around them like he’s always belonged there.
Drake made a family.
A real family.
And somehow he managed to keep us out of it.
I don’t know what to do with that.
But I know one thing.
Dad needs to meet those girls.
He needs to meet Meela.
I think
I think this might actually heal something in him.
Maybe in all of us.
I don’t know.
I’m going to call Dad.
