Michael sat at the dining table, staring blankly at the divorce papers that Sarah had left behind. His heart fainted as he tried to process the reality of her departure.
The memory of their love life flooded his heart, he bowed his head in tears. "What am I going to do now?" he whispered to himself.
"Daddy?" Clara's small voice broke the silence in the room.
Michael adjusted himself quickly, forcing a smile to cover up his brooding state. "Hey, my angel. What's up?"
"When is Mommy coming back? I have missed her" Her question was straightforward but heavy.
Michael's chest ached as he struggled to find the right words that would appease little Clara. "No, Clara. Mommy… Mommy won't be coming back anytime from now. She will be away for a longer time."
Clara frowned, tears rolling down her cheeks. " I want to follow Mommy. Why Didn't she take me a long with her?"
"Mommy can't take you along" Michael didn't want to complicate the matter to the children. But it's like he just has to say it the way it is, "Mommy has left us". He said softly.
"What did we do wrong?" The little girl asked in sincerity. "Let's go and beg Mommy."
"No, Clara," he said quickly, patting her back. "This is not about you, it's all about Mommy and me." He looked at the girl and cleaned up the tears in her eyes. "I will make sure you are fine, trust me."
Clement has been sitting a few distance away, playing with the blanket. He got up and wandered into the kitchen, "I am hungry".
Michael heard his low voice and checked the time, it was past launch time, and he hadn't noticed. He stood up and went straight to the kitchen.
"All right, let me see what we have."
The fridge was empty, save for a half crate of eggs and a loaf of bread.
"Kids, can I make you scrambled eggs and toast?" He asked the children cheerfully.
Clara nodded slowly, but Clement didn't answer. He wanted something else.
"Clement are you ok with that?" He asked, sounding cheerful.
"I want tea and bread," Clement responded sharply.
"Don't worry, you will have tea in the night. I promise you". Finally, Clement nodded in agreement.
As Michael cooked, his mind raced. "How am I going to manage this?" I had no job, no partner, and two kids who needed him to be strong". The weight of it all felt unbearable to him as he whispered to himself in the kitchen.
Clara broke the silence "Daddy, who's going to take care of us now?"
Michael reluctantly answered, "I'm going to take care of you, Clara. Don't worry."
"But you are always busy and not at home", she pointed out. "Mommy has been the one that helps. Who is going to do that now?"
Her words hit him harder than he expected. Clara wasn't wrong.
After lunch, the kids sat in the living room watching cartoons. Michael walked to the dining, sat down, and bowed his head in sorrow. He needed help. But who could he turn to?
The thought of Emilia caught his mind. Emilia had been with the family for years; she always came around to help the family with chores, mostly on weekends. Michael knew she cared for the children, and the children liked her, too.
"Can I ask her to take on more responsibility without knowing when—or if—I could pay her properly?" Michael murmured to himself.
His internal debate was interrupted by the sound of Clement crying. He rushed to the room to see him.
"What happened?"
"I fell!" Clement sobbed.
Michael took him up, examining him properly if he had not sustained any injuries.
"It's okay, boy. You're okay," he said softly, wiping away the tears.
Clara sat on the couch, watching him and Clement with a worried expression. "Daddy, are you okay?"
The question startled him. He looked up at her and forced a smile. "Of course, I am. Don't worry about me."
Clara from her little mind, knows Daddy was not fine.
That night, he makes sure the kids are on their bed to sleep; he sits on his bed, staring at his phone. The number for Emilia stared back at him.
His thumb was hovering over the call button. What if she thinks he was taking advantage of her and she said no?
His compassion for the children pushed him harder than his questions of doubt. He hit the dial button, and his heart raised with each ring.
"Hello?" Emilia's calm, familiar voice came through the line.
"Hi, Emilia. It's Michael," he began, his voice shaky. "I'm sorry to call so late."
"It's no problem," she replied. "Is everything all right? How are the kids?"
"They're… They're okay," he said. "But I need to talk to you. It's about Sarah."
There was a pause. "What happened?"
"She's… She's gone," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "She left me. And the kids."
"Oh, Michael," Emilia said softly. "I'm so sorry."
"Thank you, Emilia," he said softly, he exhaled deeply. "Emilia, I need your help; I can't do this alone. I know this is a big help to ask for, but I need help. The kids love you and I trust you as well. Would you be willing to help me with this kids, till I get back on my feet? I may not be able to pay you well now, but I will try my best to appreciate you".
Emilia kept mute for long; Michael's heart raced as he prepared to hear 'No.'
"When do you want me to start?" Emilia finally broke the silence.
He felt the usual relief over him, and tears rolled down his eyes, joyous tears. "Thank you, Emilia. I am grateful for this. Thank you so much."
Please, don't thank me yet." she said with a small laugh. "I'm not sure of what I am getting myself into, let me start and see how it goes"
The talk continued for a few more minutes; they were both ironing out the details. Emilia will not be staying over all the time; she will come during the day and leave in the night, except maybe on weekends. This will enable Michael to focus on getting a new job.
After hanging up, Michael sat in the quiet darkness of his room, a small spark of hope flooded his mind.
Is this the solution he had hoped for? Will Emilia be able to lighten up the darkness in his family?