"Why did you vanish without a word and flee abroad without alerting us leaving Asta behind-just nine months old, still needing to be nursed?"
Asta's aunt asked Annette,her voice trembling with emotion as they all sat together under the same roof for the first time in years.
"Are you even aware that when you abondoned Asta ,I was left with no choice but to purchase and nourish him with expensive powdered formula?He was still at an age where he desperately needed to be breastfed ,and your absence was nowhere to be explained.I couldn't risk giving him cow's milk -it's far too hazardous for an infant's fragile system,"
Asta's aunt went on,her voice trembling with a mix of indignation and disbelief.
Annette turned her head where Sophie sat and watched the scene unfold before her long braids with mischievous delight.He tugged at them playfully -too roughly-eliciting a sudden wince from Sophie.
"Ouch,that hurts!she cried,her voice laced with suprise more than anger.
Asta froze,the smile slipping from his face.His little brows furrowed,and his lower lip trembled slightly."Sorry,Mummy,"he whispered,his voice fragile with guilt.
Sophie softened instantly.She tucked a braid behind ear and kissed his forehead gently,brushing away his remorse as though it were a fleeting cloud ."It's okay,sweetheart .Just be gentle next time."
From the shadows,Annette's heart clenched .The ease between them,the warmth that passed so naturally-it was undeniable.Sophie wasn' just filling a role;she was living it.And Asta,her son,was folding into this new life with effortless trust.
Annette's eyes flicked from the boy to the woman who now mothered him.There was no bitterness in Sophie's expression,only kindness and care.Asta nestled into her arms again,his earlier guilt already fading beneath the comfort of her embrace.
A swell of conflicting emotions rose in Annette's chest -relief that he was;loved,and sorrow that it wasn't her he turned to anymore.She hadn't been there when he needed her most.And now,as she stood watching from a distance ,a silent question loomed heavy in her mind:
Will he still accept me?Will he ever look at me the way he looks at her?
Asta's aunt,who had been observing the tension gathering silently around Annette,decided to break the silence that clung to the room like a storm cloud.She stepped forward with a faint,almost nervous smile and called out,her voice laced with forced cheerfulness,"Asta!Do you know who this is?"
The liitle boy paused mid-giggle,his head tittling curiously gently,resting a hand on Annette's shoulder,"is another mummy of yours."
The words hung in the air like thunder after lightning.Asta blinked ,visibly confused,his young mind struggling to make sense of what he had just heard.Another mummy?
His wide eyes darted back to Sophie-his safe place,the arms he always ran to.His brows furrowed,and his small body tensed."No..."he whispered,his voice laced with growing fear.
Annette stepped forward instinctively,a soft ,pleading smile forming on her lips .But before she could say a word,Asta recoiled as though burned.
"No!She's not my mummy!"he cried,voice rising into desperate wail."Only her-only her is my mother!"He clung to Sophie fiercely,wrapping his arms around her neck,as though fearing someone might try to pull him away.
Sophie,caught off guard,held him close,her own expression torn between surprise and sympathy.Annette stood frozen,her chest hollowing with the weight of rejection she hadn't fully prepared for.The word "mother" echoed in her ears like a bell tolling in mourning-sweet when she once owned it,now sounding like a door slammed shut.
And in that single,shattering moment ,the distance between Annette and her son left infinite.
All this while,Asta's uncle had remained quietly seated in the corner of the room,his son nestled comfortably in his lap as they half-watched Peppa Pig flicker across the television screen -a colourful distraction that had earlier held both boys in rapt attention.
But now,the room was thick with tension,every breath drawn with hesitation.Breaking his silence with a calm ,measured voice.he finally interjected-his tone soothing,deliberate,as though pouring cool water over simmering flames.
Let's not rush to conclusions,"he said,his eyes moving from Asta's trembling frame to Annette's wounded expression."The boy isn't rejecting you out of cruelty,Annette.He's simply caught in the grip of familiarity...and a deep attachment to Sophie."
He shifted the child in his lap gently,pausing before continuing,"At his age,certainty is everthing .He's built his little world around what he knows,and Sophie has become it's cornerstone.It's not that he doesn't have room in his heart for you-it's that he doesn't remember how to let you in...not yet."
He glanced toward Asta,who was now clinging tightly to Sophie's neck,his small face still stained with panic."Give him time.Let it happen slowly.The heart of a child is tender but elastic.Once he begins to spend time with you-even in fragments-he'll start to remember,or at the very least,form something new.It's not rejection,it's resistance born of confusion.And confusion,thank God,is temporary."
The room grew still for a moment,the heat of emotion settling into quiet contemplation.His words,though simply spoken,hung with the weight of truth-and hope.
Asta's cousin,Mumbi-whom Annette scarcely recognized as the same timid girl she had once known -had blossomed into a striking young woman.She gracefully broke the silence that had settled over the room,entering with a tray bearing fine china teacups,a gleaming flask ,and neatly arranged loaves of bread generously spread with Blue Band.
Mumbi regarded Annette intently ,her gaze lingering with quiet curiosity-until her mother gently inquired if she recognized the guest.With a soft nod,Mumbi affirmed,"She's Asta's mother."A warm smile spread across Annette's face at the sound of that cherished word-mother.
Mumbi offered a respectful greeting to Annette,then to Sophie ,her demeanor composed and courteous.With practiced grace,she arranged the teacups around the table,carefully pouring tea from the gleaming flask and placing the loaves of bread beside them.
Annette watched as Sophie fed Asta pieces of bread and offered him sips of tea from a cup.A pang stirred in her chest-she was supposed to be the one doing this,not Sophie.It should be her that Asta looked at with those soft,trusting eyes.But he didn't .His gaze sought out Sophie,familiar and fond.And Annette couldn't blame him.If she were in his place,she would do the same.After all,Sophie had been there-through scraped knees and bedtime stories,through sickness and sunshine.Annette was just a stranger who had suddenly stepped into his world,claiming a tittle she hadn't earned in his eyes:mother.
Annette looked away,her fingers curling slightly around the hem of her coat.The room felt too warm,like it was pressing in on her,reminding her of all the moments she had missed.She had imagined reunions-painful,yes,but redemptive too.She thought Asta would run to her,arms outstretched,something instinctive and unshakable pulling him toward her.But that wasn't how it happened.
He sat close to Sophie,his small frame leaning into her side.He laughed at something she whispered in his ear,crumbs of bread clinging to his lip.Annette remembered that laugh-it echoed faintly in her memory from a time before everything had fallen apart.But it wasn't hers anymore.
Still,she didn't hate Sophie.That suprised her.
She could see the gentleness in the way Sophie touched Asta's shoulder,the patience in how she let him speak at his own pace.Sophie had loved him in Annette's absence-not out of obligation,but something real.Something earned.
Annette cleared her throat softly."Does he...like stories before bed?she asked,her voice quieter than she expected
Sophie turned to her,surprised but not unkind."Yes.Especially the ones with monsters that aren't really bad in the end."
Annette nooded."I used to tell him those."
Sophie hesitated,then gave her a small smile."Maybe...you could read to him tonight.If you'd like."
Annette's breath caught.It wasn't forgiveness.It wasn't resolution.But it was something.A thread,fragile but real,stretching between them.
And maybe,just maybe,that's how healing began.
Abruptly,the sharp ring of Annette's phone pierced the quiet murmur of the room.She checked the screen-her supervisor's name lit up in bold.A problem at the site,no doubt.Something she alone could resolve.
Suppressing a sigh,she answered briefly,her voice clipped and proffessional.After a few swift words,she ended the call and rose from her seat with poised efficiency.
I'm afraid I have to excuse myself,"she said,addressing the room with calm regret."There's an urgent situation at the plant-some structural malfunction they need me to assess."
Wangari,Asta's aunt and the hostess of the gathering,looked up from the tea tray with sypathetic concern.Her husband,Charles,set down his glass and gave a respectful nod.Their twin daughters Mumbi and Auralia paused watching soap-opera,casting curious glances in her direction.
Annette turned to them with a gracious smile."Wangari,thank you for your warm hospitality.Your home is as lovely as ever."She inclined her head toward Charles."And charles-always a pleasure."
Her eyes briefly met Sophie's .The words came more deliberately this time."Thank you..,for the way you care for him."
Her eyes finally landed on Asta.He was swinging his legs gently,one hand wrapped tightly around a small red toy car.He looked up,not quiet understanding,but aware that something was changing in the room.
Annette crouched slightly so her gaze met his."Goodbye Asta,"she said gently."Maybe next time,you can show me your favourite toys."
He blinked up at her,then offered her the faintest of smiles-a flicker of curiousity ,not recognition.But for Annette,it was enough.
With that,she straightened,collected her things,and made her way to the door.As it closed behind her,the low murmur of voices resumed,and inside,life continued.But for Annette ,stepping back into the crisp air and toward her car,something small but vital had shifted.
Not closure.Not yet.
But perphaps...the beginning of one.