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After finishing breakfast, I rush over to Anya's house. It's Sunday morning, so she should be home unless she has other plans, which I highly doubt. As I climb the steps of her front porch and lift my hand to knock, a sudden weightiness envelopes me. My chest tightens as anxiety floods through me. I can't gather the courage to tap on the door.
My head hangs in my hand as I suck in deep breaths. I have to remain calm, and I need to find out if Kira is really mine. I already know she is, in the back of my mind, but I still need confirmation from Anya.
I inhale one last time, filling my lungs with air. Then I hold my breath and knock. I hear something fall to the ground inside, then Kira’s giggle and footsteps. The door creaks open, and a beautiful pair of hazel eyes stares back at me.
Anya is wearing a simple blue oversized shirt with no bra. I quickly raise my gaze back to her face. Now is not the time for me to yearn for her body. I notice the dark circles under her eyes, and the messy bun her hair is held up in. She looks like she barely had any sleep last night.
“Brandon?” She shuts the door quietly and joins me on the front porch. “Why are you here so early?”
“We need to talk…” I hesitate.
She appears exhausted. “Are you alright?” I ask.
She shakes her head, stifling a yawn with her hand. “I'm not doing well. I made a mistake putting Kira to bed so early last night. She wanted to stay up and play.”
I feel a weight pull at my chest. I try hard not to show it. “Can we talk?”
She nods. “Sure. Come inside.”
Kira’s face lights up as soon as she sees me. She spreads her arms wide, and I lift her into the air with a smile. Her giggles are infectious, and I could hold her like this forever without feeling tired. As if by magic, the headache that was bothering me since morning has disappeared.
“Is it okay to talk in front of Kira?” I turn to Anya.
“She’s just a baby; she won’t understand much. Just try not to use any swear words or anything inappropriate.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Something on the floor catches Kira’s attention. She starts to struggle to get to it, and I put her down.
“What I need to talk to you about…is Kira.” I don’t know if that’s the right way to begin a conversation like this one, but I’m too anxious to think of a better way.
Anya' body visibly tenses as I prepare to reveal what I have discovered. "Go on," she urges me.
I take a deep breath, knowing that my next words will change everything. "Am I Kira's father?"
She swallows hard before responding, "How did you find out?"
Damn it. That confirms it, I am definitely Kira's biological father. My mind races with a mixture of emotions - sadness for not being there for my daughter, relief that I finally know the truth, gratitude towards Anya for raising her, guilt for not being in her life, and anger at myself for not realizing it sooner. "Just look at her, Anya. She looks just like me, and my calculations confirm it," I say with a heavy heart.
As I stood in front of Anya, I took a deep breath and braced myself for the inevitable. I suspected this would happen, but it doesn’t make the blow any easier to bear. “How could you keep it from me?”
She scoffs. “I didn’t plan to keep it from you, Brandon.” Her eyes water, and her voice croaks. “You disappeared after that night, and there was no way to reach you.”
I know she wouldn’t have kept it from me for the fun of it, and I know I’m to be blamed for everything. But the cowardly, weak and selfish part of me wants to blame something—someone for all of it. “You could’ve told me when we met again.”
“I should have, but it’s not that easy. When I met you, I was angry and hurt.” She takes a moment to calm herself and wipes the tears spilling down her face. “As if that wasn’t enough, you’re my ex-boyfriend’s older brother. Do you think I enjoyed doing all of this on my own?”
My fists clench as raw emotions come crashing down on me. I’m not mad at Anya. I understand her, I understand how hard all of this must’ve been on her. I know because I went through so much after Alessa’s mother abandoned me with her. I had my parents, but it was hard.
Anya had no one, which means it must’ve been a lot harder on her. I’m mad at myself, and I’m furious at how things could’ve been different if I hadn’t gone on that deployment.
I only ended up hurting Anya, and missing months of my daughter’s life. I hate myself for it. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. My voice is as low as a whisper, but that is the loudest I can sound right now. “I’m so sorry for everything, Anya. I would change everything if I could. I would’ve been here for both of you, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t here when you needed me most.”
Anya's piercing hazel eyes meet mine. Her hand rests gently on my chest, offering comfort and understanding. "It wasn't your fault, Brandon," she reassures me. "It wasn't anyone's fault. Circumstances unfolded that were beyond our control."
The logical part of my head knows that she’s right. I shouldn’t have left her that morning, but I had my fair reasons. Still, I can’t shake off the guilt that all of this would have been avoided if only I’d done something different.
From the other room, I hear Kira crying for attention. Anya rushes to her side and demands that I fetch some milk from the fridge. As she tends to Kira and puts her to bed, I stand by the door and observe quietly.
