CHAPTER 2

A BASTARD

I cannot bear to look my father in the eye again. The scorching heat of his breathing on the side of my face is cogent evidence of how enraged he is right now.

My eyes are pools of tears. My nose is all red from blowing it. My eyes are puffy from all the crying and I am certain that they are sore red. And my head is a whirlwind of emotions. The shame I am feeling right now is immeasurable. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me right now. At least I would escape this shame.

I know I messed up big time. Believe me, it wasn't my intention, because I know just how much my family’s icon and repute mean to us all. But how was I supposed to know that I loved a heartless, shameless, dickhead who did not love me at all? How was I supposed to know that he was only after this cursed thing between my legs? I know, ooh I know. I saw the red flags, right? But don’t they say that each demon has its own angle that can even change it?

Well, I believed I was that angel. I was bored with all the mockery and insults of dating the bad boy. I felt and believed I was the right one for him. I was his angel and he was my beast. The start was all good. Actually, everything in the short term of our relationship was life in heaven. He was termed a dangerous guy but in his arms, I felt as safe as I have ever felt even in the confines of this beautiful De’Mario family.  He took me to the moon with his bad-boy romance and even to cloud nine.

But the pregnancy happened, and in the blink of an eye, he ruthlessly pulled me from the haven he had brought me into and mercilessly slammed me to the ugly, unforgiving ground. He embarrassed me, insulted me, and even spat on my face. The horrible insult he threw to my face will haunt me forever. That is just to say the least.

That is not even it at all. The bittersweet of this all is how he used me, made a perfect fool of myself, took away my pride and dignity, and then when he had had enough of it all, he spits me out like stinking trash! Like a was some worthless whore!

You should have seen how disgustingly looked at me, and how everyone laughed at me when he told me to go to hell with my pregnancy. Even sympathy itself would have stung deep at that precise moment, so you can’t begin to imagine how all the mockery felt to me from all those bitches he had been and those who were waiting for my time with him to rapture so that they can have him. It was suffocating. To the point that I almost collapsed due to the lack of air. If I hadn’t run away from that horrible scene, I would have died of shame and all the screams insults, and mockery.

“Just what have you done, sis?” My mind is brought back by the voice of the holy Mary, my younger sister, Grace.  I turn to her as she speaks, her image so vague that I had to blink out some tears to make it a little bit clear, “I always warned you about that guy, but you didn't listen. See now what you have done to us. How will people see us from now on? How will we even face society with this shame?”

Yeah. She warned me. Countless times, freaking yes! And, ooh, yeah, I did not listen to her too. How was I supposed to go against the desires of my heart? I was in love, you know. Can nobody really understand that fact alone and cut me some slack? I fell in love, did what I did, got pregnant and got rejected in the most worst way. People fall and rise again, right? It is never a crime to fall in love, right? Or is it?

But on a sixth sense, I think I appreciate her jeering and my father’s rancor more than the mutism of my mother. She has not uttered a word since I broke the news to them minutes ago. Only God knows what she thinks of me, but I just wish she could at least say a word. Her silence hurts more than anything. It is cutting through my shattered heart like a sharp sword against the human flesh. Her cold face, which has always been illuminating with warmth, speaks volumes. She is more than ashamed of me.

“Then at least tell me that you have a plan out of this mess and save us from the embarrassment of being the talk of the nation, Ayana,” I turn to my father’s low yet harsh tone. “We cannot afford that! I refuse to have my first stain on the name that I have spent all my years building and protecting. You will not be the first person to stain my name and legacy, Ayana Salma! So, what do you plan to do with that bastard in your womb?”

His words slap me like a tidal wave, hanging in my head like a heavy cloud and leaving me hanging in disbelief! Wait a minute. Is that my father speaking like that?

A bastard???

I had to raise my head and gawk at him in disbelief and hurt. His eyes are a blazing inferno of rage and loathing. His countenance depicts seriousness. The words did not just erroneously slip out from his mouth by mistake. He meant to say every single letter he uttered.

But… I pardon me if I a wrong. I am neither trying to justify my actions nor sugarcoat them. I get it, you know. Like, yes, this is not the way they would have chosen to become grandparents, but it happened. Unplanned, yes! But it did, anyway, and there is nothing to change about this whole 'mess' as he called it. But through this mess, they are expecting their first grandchild. The first grandchild of the great De’Mario family! Shouldn't that at least make them look at this scenario from a different angle?

A bastard, really? I never expected this much from him! Cursing my child, his grandchild when it is just a seed?

How can my child, their first grandchild, the great heir or heiress of their great empire—how can he call my baby a bastard?

“I have no time, Ayana,” he hisses between gritted teeth, “What is your plan? Speak up before I lose it all!” He speaks again before I can finish analyzing his facial idioms or digest his unbelievable words.

My, plan? At least now we are talking, though his insults about my baby are still itching my soul. I take a deep breath, amassing all the boldness in me to exude my willingness to take responsibility for my actions as is expected of me.

“I will raise my child alone, father. My child will..."

He raises a hand to my face, shutting me up. He shakes his head countless times. Uncontrollably. Differing from my plan.

A cold chill cuts through my bones, almost paralyzing me. That is what they expect of me, right? As a responsible person, and as their responsible child, that is what I ought to do best in this situation, right?

“I see you have decided to throw your life away just like that, and even though I want to kick you out right now and disown you for disgracing me this way,” I fix my gaze on his cold one, each word from his mouth cutting deep through me, “I am still your father, Ayana. And for the sole reason that my blood runs through your veins, I will swallow this bitter pill and let you have that cursed bastard, but here are my orders for your shameless actions and staining the name I have built and protected for years.”

Dear good Lord, I hope this is good, even though I am sensing otherwise!

I swallow hard, holding my breath as I await my judgment. Everything in the surroundings falls silent once again, and we all snap at him in awe as he speaks with authority.

“You are forever grounded!!!” Shock slaps me off-guard, leaving my head spinning with disbelief and my mouth wide ajar with questions blocking my throat. “There is no more college, and not even your shadow should appear in any of the family’s activities or be seen roaming out of this compound. Your face and that of the bastard you are carrying will remain hidden like the disgrace that you are!"

Hell just broke loose! His words from the beginning of his verdict are echoing in my head with rebounds.

God, please tell me I did not hear any of that right. Forget about the college because I gave that up the moment I ran out of the classroom. But, grounded? For good? Or for how long? Even my child? And then he continues he insulting my child hurts more than anything, you know!

The ground I am standing on trembles. It is as if it is being ripped off from under me. I attempt to fix my eyes on him, to try and see whether he is joking or not. But the opaque curtains of tears in my eyes are impairing my vision. I see nothing but blurriness. My whole being is convulsing while his harsh words of injustice hang in my head like a heavy cloud.

Hang on. No! My loving father cannot do this to me. I messed up, yes! Big times, yes! But the situation is not this serious, come on!

I swallow hard and dry, roughly scouring the tears from my eyes in haste. I take a step closer to him, still wobbling. “Dad, I am sorry, okay? I… I sincerely am deeply sorry for what I have done, but please, you cannot do this to me. Please, Dad!” I plead, scouring away the tears from my eyes so that he can see the sincerity of my plea.

But as our eyes meet, I can bet on the innocent seed in my womb that my words did not mean anything to him. They either hit a deaf ear, or reached him with zero meaning and feelings. He has made up his mind and spoken his thoughts. And there is no going back on his words. I know him so well, and this scares me to death!

Mom is my choice right now. She is his wife, the only one who can handle him when he is like this.

I turn to my mom, pleading for her intervention on this, but her glare alone shifts mine from hers. It was as if she had anticipated my move and prepared for it. It is crystal clear that she has righted my father’s unjust judgment. She will not help at all.

I look at my sister, but she gives me the same look as my mother’s. They are all in agreement. Nobody is willing to do anything to help me.

Only I can help myself.

I drag my blurry vision to my father, reaching for his hand to plead with him. But he grips my hand tight, pressing it so hard that I scream in pain.

“Dad! You are hurting me!” I cry out, wincing at the pain.

“This is nothing compared to the pain and shame you have inflicted on me and this entire family, Ayana. I am so ashamed to even call you my own!” He lets go of me and starts to walk away.

But I am still his daughter despite all this, right? He still has a soft spot in his heart to listen to me and show me a little bit of mercy. Even just a little. Anything that bonders mercy will do at this point.

I hike behind him, screaming my plea, “Dad, please! Do not do this to me. It is not fair!” I howl, and it seems like luck is on my side because he halts in his tracks.

I was not wrong to think that he still has some sympathy and love left for me.

He turns to me, and we lock eyes, mine glowing with gratitude and expectations, but his are an assortment of something I cannot decipher. Something that makes me doubt my take on him stopping.

I swallow hard!

And he speaks, proving me dead wrong!

“I said I could not kick you out, Ayana, but I did not say that you were not free to leave on your own free will. If you cannot take what I am offering, then by all means, the door is wide open. Just make sure you do not take this family’s name the second you step out of that door!!!”

And with that, my father does not even spare me another glance. He turns his back on me, and my mother and sister follow behind him, leaving me to make my own decision: to either leave my home and everything behind and chase freedom, or stay like a prisoner in my own home.

--------------END OF FLASHBACK