Annette's fingers trembled with a mixture of trepidation and determination as she meticulously dialed her baby daddy's phone number. Beads of sweat cascaded down her body, a testament to the gravity of the moment; it was now or never for her to uncover the truths that lingered in the shadows. Gathering her resolve, she pressed the call button with palpable intensity. The phone rang persistently, each tone amplifying her anxiety, until it was finally answered.
"Hello! He is not available at the moment. Would you care to call back later, or is there a message that I should convey to him upon his return?" The voice on the other end was unmistakably that of his wife, and Annette's heart dropped at the utterance. Startled, she abruptly severed the connection, fully aware that she had just encountered an unwelcome reminder of the complexities that entwined their lives.
It has been two years since she entrusted her son to his father, Kinuthia—the man who once broke her heart. Annette had treasured Kinuthia as her high school sweetheart, a bond that blossomed from form two and continued through her first year of college, where she pursued a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Kinuthia had undoubtedly been a significant presence in her life. As she reflected on their shared memories, she realized that, despite the challenges, there were many fond moments that made harboring resentment toward him unnecessary, even given his unruly nature. Kinuthia was unwarranted, despite his erratic behavior.
Annette departed from her home country of Kenya to pursue an opportunity in Dubai as a technician a bit wavering since she had to differ her undergraduate studies in Bachelor of Engineering in Mechanics due to some financial constraints. Although it was a challenging choice to leave her nine months old son with his father, she recognized it as a pivotal step toward securing a promising future for both of them. While she was fully aware that some might harshly judge her, branding her a cold-hearted mother for her decision, Annette remained steadfast and unyielding. She understood her purpose and was committed to realizing her ambitions, undeterred by the opinions of others.
"Why should Kinuthia's wife pick up her husband's phone? Must she respond if the owner is not present? What rights does she possess? Annette mumbled to herself, "I hope she doesn't torment my son," feeling a surge of anxiety wash over her.
She returned to scroll through her Google contacts and resolved to reach out to Jahan, her former confidante; Jahan was married to Kinuthia's younger brother, Jacob. It had been quite some time since Annette severed ties with her to avoid the unnecessary gossip that surrounded Kinuthia's life, which she deemed trivial in her current circumstances. She understood that one cannot compel others to be part of their lives if they are unwilling. It is best to allow them to pursue what brings them fulfillment.
As a devoted army-K-pop enthusiast and a passionate stan of the globally acclaimed BTS group; who inspired her to embrace herself individuality, she recognized her inherent worth.
Jahan, enveloped in her carefully crafted exterior, bore the façade of being Annette's true friend. Yet, beneath this deceptive skin lay a heart brimming with seething rage and resentment towards her. Annette, perceptive as ever, was fully aware of Jahan's genuine nature but chose to overlook it, driven by a singular purpose. Her intent was to interrogate Jahan further, to unearth the elusive traits of Kinuthia's wife that might reveal critical insights into the well-being of his son, Asta.
As time passed, Annette employed a blend of strategy and casual conversation to extract information from Jahan. Their chats, seemingly innocuous at first, gradually delved deeper into personal realms, culminating in an unexpected moment of vulnerability from Jahan. Eventually, Annette's persistence bore fruit when Jahan, perhaps against her better judgment, shared a photograph of Kinuthia's wife. This pivotal exchange left Annette feeling one step closer to uncovering the truth she so desperately sought.
Annette felt a mix of emotions as she gazed at the picture of Kinuthia's wife. The woman had long, graceful legs and gently curved hips that caught her attention. Annette couldn't help but think that if she were in Kinuthia's shoes, she would gladly choose this woman over herself. When she asked Jahan for the woman's name and learned it was Sophie, she whispered, "What a beautiful name," a shy smile appearing on her lips.
But just moments later, reality struck her, and she gently touched her forehead, wondering why a smile had crept onto her face while staring at the image of the woman who had taken her place in Kinuthia's heart. Instead of feeling that warmth, she thought she should be looking at the picture with eyes filled with resentment, not admiration.
As Annette pressed Jahan for more information about Sophie, she uncovered a chilling truth: there was a time when Sophie encountered a brutal attack that left her on the brink of death, requiring hospitalization and intensive care to survive. Those words struck Annette like a sharp blade, shattering her heart into a million fragile pieces that tumbled into the eerie silence within her. She couldn't shake the nagging question" Was this truly happening, or was it just another of Jahan's twisted tales?" Jahan continued yapping that the woman deserved it since she was extremely proud, in addition to talking rudely to Kinuthia, thinking she couldn't be beaten for her ill-mannered behavior. Without prior notice, she became uninterested in Jahan yapping and shut her down, claiming she wanted to take a nap since she was exhausted from the busy day, so they would continue with their conversation on the subsequent day.
"Although Kinuthia has exhibited impolite behavior, I never imagined he could be capable of domestic violence. I have my doubts about Jahan's gossip; perhaps they are mere fabrications," Annette pondered, her thoughts swirling. "Instead of feeling happy about her rival's downfall, why does she seem so upset?" More questions flooded her mind. "I believe that no woman should endure abuse from her partner, except for their parents. If an argument arises, they should be given space until a resolution is found." She continued reflecting. "In fact, why am I even concerned about that woman's welfare? It's none of my business anyway," Annette smirked as she pulled the duvet over herself.
The following day, Annette woke up to a missed call notification on her phone from Kinuthia's number. She sent a message that read, "Hi, it's Annette."
After two years, he finally chose to reach out. His response was direct: "You choose not to support our child. He needs clothes. Can you buy some for him?" Annette recognized his writing style immediately.
"Okay, I will send the clothes once I purchase them," she replied.
"Why not just send me the money? Do you think I would misuse it?" Kinuthia responded.
"I didn't say that. I'll make sure to send you some money before the week is over," Annette typed back.
"Alright," Kinuthia concluded with a simple text.
Before the week came to a close, Annette kept her promise by sending Kinuthia the money she had pledged. Surprisingly, she transferred a large significant sum of money. Kinuthia was overjoyed and quickly filled their chats with an influx of questions, eager to engage. However, Annette replied with concise messages, as her interest had waned. A twinge of discomfort lingered in her heart when she learned that Kinuthia had become involved in domestic violence; it left her feeling that the situation was deeply troubling and inappropriate.
With two weeks left, Annette was finalizing her two-year contract to return to her homeland. She longed to meet her son and confronted the woman who had taken her place, playing the role of a mother.