“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” She stepped aside, and he entered without another word.
Yana was still waiting in the living room. When they both walked into the room, she looked at them, took a deep breath, and then moved to the far end of the couch. She tucked her legs underneath her and grabbed the throw blanket, which was folded across the back of the couch, across her lap like armor. Her eyes were alert and guarded. She didn’t look like their little girl anymore. She looked like she knew something life-altering was about to be said.
Love walked in and sat across from her, shoulders tight, hands clasped. Juwon followed behind her and sat beside her, opposite Yana. No one spoke for a moment, letting the weight of it all shift through the air. Love’s mouth opened to begin the conversation, but nothing came out. Her tongue was dry, her heart loud.
She saw how Juwon noticed her hesitation from her peripheral vision. Of course he did. He knew her. He always had. With a soft sigh, he stepped in to speak first.
“Yana,” he began softly. “When I met your mom, she was already pregnant with you. We were kids.” He paused and swallowed a lump in his throat.
“She was eighteen, just a few months into her first semester of college. The story of us meeting in the library was true. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”
He smiled at Love before he continued. “It’s true that she blew me off. It’s true that I chased her and didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I liked her. When she finally let me take her to dinner, she admitted to me then that she was fully prepared to raise her baby alone. She made it clear that she wasn’t looking for pity or a handout. I admired her strength. So, I stuck around when she’d let me.”
He looked at Yana and continued.
“We developed a friendship from there. I would go with her sometimes to doctors’ appointments and come over to help her study. The pictures you see of me at the hospital when you were born was a choice I had made to be there for your mom. By your first birthday, I knew I wanted to be your dad. Not just the guy who showed up sometimes. Not just her boyfriend. I wanted to be your father. And I’ve never regretted that choice. Never.”
He glanced at Love who gave a small, knowing smile at the nostalgic thought of the past. Yana stared at their exchange, first into Juwon’s eyes and then into her mother’s. Juwon then shifted his gaze to Yana and continued.
“So I stepped in. And I never saw you as anything less than my child. I raised you. I chose you.”
Yana’s lips parted, but she stayed silent.
“But,” Juwon added gently, “I do regret how long we waited to tell you. That part, . . . we failed you on.”
There was a pause. Love turned her head from the floor, up to Yana. Juwon’s gaze shifted from Yana to the ringless fingeron his left hand. He rubbed the spot where the ring was once placed, massaging the imprinted lines that were almost faded.
Yana’s voice was quiet but firm. “So . . . you both lied to me?”
Juwon winced. He looked back into her eyes. “I didn’t think of it that way. I thought I was protecting you. Giving you the love and stability I felt you deserved. I didn’t want you to feel like you were missing anything.”
Yana’s face folded for a moment as the emotion caught up to her body. She shifted in her seat, uncrossed her legs from under her, and bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to feel.”
“You don’t have to know, baby,” Juwon said gently. “You get to feel all of it, confused, hurt, angry. Whatever you need.”
Yana stared at her mother now. “Does Westside Zay know?”
Love leaned forward and reached for her daughter’s hand. Yana pulled it back, and the movement hit Love like a slap. Her hand hovered in the space between them for a second before falling to her lap.
“He knows now,” Love whispered. “I told him a few days ago. Right after you found out. I wanted to tell you both so many times, . . . but the right moment never came. I was scared. And young. I was wrong.”
Tears blurred her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“I just kept waiting for the right time. And it kept slipping by.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Juwon looked drained. His jaw clenched like he was holding back emotion. Love glanced at Yana, whose face had softened slightly, but her brows were still drawn tight. No one spoke a word for what seemed like hours.
“I want to meet him,” Yana said suddenly, cutting through the silence.
Love’s chest clenched. “You do?”
Yana nodded. “I don’t want to replace you,” she said, turning to Juwon. “I just want to know where I come from.”
Juwon’s face cracked into a pained, bittersweet smile. He cleared his throat and then responded. “I want that for you too.”
For another long moment, none of them spoke again. They sat in a quiet triangle, tethered by the truth, trying to untangle grief, forgiveness, and years of buried emotion. Love reached for Yana’s hand again, and this time, she didn’t pull away. Their fingers intertwined. Juwon leaned in next and wrapped his arms around both of them. The embrace was hesitant at first, but when Yana’s head lowered onto his shoulder, and Love exhaled shakily, it became something else. It became tentative healing. A silent understanding.
