Page 8 of Vicarious

It’s like she’s been suspended in time. Looking exactly like I remember her. Exactly like she did that night just without the pregnant belly. Same bouncy brown curls. Same brown eyes. Her pink lips. All of which Lady inherited from her. The stubborn set of her jaw? The determination in her eyes? That’s all Leon.

“Adrian,” she finally says.

“Phae,” I reply.

Suddenly, she’s launching herself at me like she launched herself at Dele earlier. I wrap my arms around her and return her crushing hug. Because all this time I thought she was dead. All this time I thought she was dead and even if it was Pray’s fault, it was also mine, and I didn’t get to tell her how much I hadn’t meant for it to end the way it did.

She pulls away with tears in her eyes and cups my face with her hands.

“I thought you were dead. I was sure Dele…”

“Killed me?” I ask. I huff. “Takes more than a single bullet to put me down for the count.”

“That’s not funny,” she says despite laughing.

“Occupational hazard.”

“And is accepting it as an occupational hazard the way you and Dele got past the fact that you tried to kill each other?”

“Dele and I are… complicated,” I settle on. Because it’s the only way to explain my relationship with Dele to an outsider even though to me, to us, our relationship makes perfect sense.

Phae’s smile falters. So slightly that most people would have missed it. But I know Phae.

“What?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Nothing, I just… I thought about my babies is all. The children. Dele told me they’re okay. They’re fine, right?”

“They’re fine.” I set her on the ground.

“What are they like? What do they look like? I didn’t even see them. I don’t remember the delivery. I just remember waking up and not being pregnant, and Pray was there and told me that he had them.”

I guide us to sit on the sofa, and as soon as we’re sitting down, Phae grabs my hands and doesn’t let go.

“They’re… They’re wonderful,” I say and immediately berate myself. That hardly answers Phae’s question.

But Phae grins as though that’s some kind of revelation and says, “Really?”

“Yes. They’re… They’re smart and beautiful. Leon is like you. He’s so kind and compassionate and easy going. And Lady, she’s… Dele says she reminds her of me.”

“Complete with the bad temper?”

“Much to Dele’s dismay.”

“Dele spends a lot of time with them then?”

“Well, she’s their—” I cut myself off. She’s their mother, I was about to say. There was a time I wasn’t pleased with that. But my feelings hadn’t mattered then. But the feelings of the birth mother who doesn’t even remember giving birth to them and weren’t sure they were okay all this time? Her feelings do matter.

“She’s their what?”

“She’s there for them a lot when I can’t be. Pray keeps me busy.”

“Right. Pray.”

Silence falls between us at that. Because Pray was always a sticky point between us, and it wasn’t until I thought she was dead that I understood why.

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