The morning came too soon as the sunlight slipped through the bedroom window. The alarm set on the phone rang aloud on the pillow beside its owner. However, the said owner has yet to be awake. He was still in his deep sleep, snoring his worries away. On the other hand, unfortunately for the baby in the cot, his sleep was disturbed by the relentless ringtone of the alarm.
With a soft whimper, Jonah stirred awake, blinking against the brightness that filled the room. He moved restlessly, searching for his father, but the warm cocoon of his blankets restricted him. The alarm continued its relentless assault, adding to his distress. Kicking his legs in a futile attempt to escape, he let out a small cry, hoping to rouse his father's attention.
Meanwhile, Jason remained blissfully unaware, lost in his dreams that felt more comforting than reality. The alarm morphed into a distant hum as he sank deeper into slumber. Suddenly, a loud piercing scream jolted him awake.
Startled, Jason shot upright, disoriented and confusion clouding his mind. The world around him was a blur, but the unmistakable sound of Jonah's cries cut through the fog of sleep. Half-dazed, he scrambled out of bed, stumbling slightly as he rushed to the cot.
"Jonah!" Jason exclaimed, panic lacing his voice as he leaned over the edge of the cot. The sight of his baby, red-faced and wailing, twisted his heart. He quickly grabbed his phone from the bed and silenced the alarm, the cacophony now replaced only by Jonah's loud cries. He slipped the phone into his pants' pocket before directing his attention onto Jonah.
"Hey there, little guy, it's okay," he murmured, reaching down to scoop Jonah into his arms. The baby instinctively clung to him, still crying, though now nestled against his father's chest.
Jason placed a gentle kiss on the top of Jonnah's head, inhaling the sweet natural scent of his son mixed with warmth. He gently swayed them around, feeling the tension in both of their bodies start to ease. "I'm right here. Daddy's got you."
As Jason rocked them, Jonah's cries began to soften, turning into small hiccups as he settled against Jason's heartbeat. The rhythmic motion and the soothing sound of his father's voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket.
"Looks like you had a rough wake-up call," Jason tapped the baby's cheek lightly. Jonah responded with a small, watery giggle, his tiny hand reaching up to grasp Jason's finger. The bond between them felt tangible, a connection that transcended words.
"Yeah, I know," Jason continued, his voice softening. "Sometimes mornings can be a little too loud, huh?"
"Let's take it easy for a bit, okay?" He moved to the armchair by the window, where sunlight poured in like liquid gold. Settling down, he cradled Jonah against him, the baby's eyelids growing heavy once again. Jason also closed his eyes for a moment, letting them both bask under the sunlight, feeling grateful for this quiet time together amidst the chaos of their lives.
Just as Jonah began to drift off, the tranquillity was abruptly interrupted by a shrill ringtone. Jason's phone buzzed in his pants' pocket, its insistent call cutting through the serene atmosphere. He hesitated, glancing at Jonah, who stirred slightly but did not wake.
With a reluctant sigh, Jason shifted to retrieve his phone. The Caller ID displayed an unknown number, and a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. Unknown calls rarely brought good news, but curiosity gnawed at him. He debated answering or letting it go to voicemail. Jonah was snuggled comfortably against him, and he didn't want to disturb the fragile peace they'd established.
Taking a deep breath, he swiped to answer. "Hello, Jason speaking," he said, keeping his voice low, his eyes still on Jonah.
"Jayden, it's me," came a familiar voice on the other, freezing him in place. "We need to talk."
"... Father…?" Jason uttered hesitantly, disbelief flooding through him. It had been years since he last spoke to his father. The only form of communication he had was through his mother, and now here was his father, breaking the silence.
The memories rushed back—his parents' divorce when he was just eight years old, the lingering bitterness, and the emptiness left behind. His father had remarried, had four other children, and yet here he was, reaching out after all this time.
"What do you want?" Jason's voice was steadier than he felt, a wall rising instinctively against the rush of emotions.
"We need to discuss some things," his father replied, the tone flat yet urgent. "It's about the family… and you."
Jason's heart raced, suspicion gnawing at him. "Family? After all these years, you want to talk about family?"
"Jayden, just listen—"
"My name's Jason Graham now."
Jason's gaze fell to Jonah, who was now stirring awake, blissfully unaware of the weight of this moment. "You have no idea what you're asking for," he said, voice low but firm.
"I know I haven't been there, but I'm trying to reach out now. I need you to understand—"
Jason cut him off. "Understand what? That you're too busy fathering other children and left us — your ex-wife and son — with nothing?" The hurt boiled up, and he felt the old wounds reopening.
"I can't change the past. All I can do now is make-up for the future. Can you come over tonight, please? We'll talk over dinner."
The plea in his father's voice caught him off guard. A part of him wanted to refuse, to hang up and forget this conversation ever happened. On the other hand, there was a part of him who still cared about his father and wanted to reconcile.
Jason's heart raced as he weighed his options, the tension of the moment tightening around him. He glanced down at Jonah, whose tiny hands were now grasping his shift, his heterochromia eyes shined brightly when Jason's eyes were on him. The innocence in the baby's gaze tugged at Jason, reminding him of the fragility of family connections.
'He has yet to know about Jonah…' Jason sighed. The thought of Jonah growing up without the chance to understand his family history gnawed at his conscience. He did not want Jonah to go through the same thing he did back then.
"Tonight," Jason replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I've got something to tell you, anyways."
"Thank you," his father said, relief evident in his tone. "I'll send you the address."
Before Jason could hang up the call, his father continued, "Jason…?"
Jason, "…?"
"You know I love you, right?"
Jason ended the call, feeling a mix of apprehension and anger swirling within him. 'Love…? It's been 16 years since you left us and we never once communicated properly. And yet, you dared to talk about love?'
"Your father has always wanted an heir and he chose the gender for you. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. He cares about you and you'll always be important to him. So, never think otherwise." His mother's words rang in his mind.
He looked down at Jonah, who had fully awakened now, his baby mixed colour pairs wide and curious. Jason couldn't help but smile, feeling that familiar surge of love that always seemed to ease his worries.
"Guess we're having a family reunion tonight, huh?" he said, attempting to inject some humour into the tense atmosphere. Jonah cooed in response, his small hand reaching up to tug at Jason's shirt.
"Don't worry, buddy. I'll handle it. Whatever it is." He stood up, placing Jonah gently back in the cot, and began their morning routine, trying to focus on the simple joys of fatherhood. "Time for a shower."
As he went to the washroom to fill up the bathtub, the weight of the call loomed over him. Jason couldn't shake the feeling that this dinner could either be a step toward healing or a catalyst for more pain. Nonetheless, he had to do it for Jonah's sake. Family was a complicated tapestry, and while his own had been frayed for years, there was a chance to mend it, however small.