My legs felt heavy as I walked through the familiar rooms, each one a quiet witness to years of secrets and shadows. But it was the living room, where Julianna and I had spent so many nights together, that I found myself pausing. Her absence lingered there still, like a perfume long faded but never truly gone. She'd taken her secrets with her to the grave, or so I had thought.
Mande was the only one left who knew the truth now. She'd been with us for years, caring for the house, for Nicolas, for Julianna in those final months when illness had drained the light from her eyes. Mande had loved Julianna as fiercely as I had, and it made sense that she would hold the secrets Julianna had kept.
But now that truth was out, and I couldn't ignore it. I needed to hear it from Mande's own mouth, to see her eyes and know she'd been keeping this from me, swearing herself to an oath that had bound her long past my wife's death. I felt a surge of anger and betrayal, but underneath it, a gnawing ache I couldn't shake. For years, I had raised Nicolas, poured everything I had into him. I'd taught him the code, the strength that a Makidi needed in this world, the resilience and ruthlessness to keep our family's legacy alive. He was supposed to be my son.
I found Mande in the kitchen, quietly tidying the dishes as if tonight were no different from any other. When she saw me standing in the doorway, her eyes flickered with a knowing sadness, a look that told me she had always feared this day would come.
"Mande," I said, my voice rough. "Tell me the truth. Tell me what Julianna swore you to keep from me."
She looked down, her hands twisting in her apron. For a long moment, I thought she wouldn't answer, that she would take that vow to her grave, just as Julianna had intended. But slowly, she nodded, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.
"Sir," she began, her voice trembling, "Julianna wanted to protect you. She didn't want you to know the truth because she feared what it would do to you...to your family."
I clenched my fists, the anger rising again, but I forced myself to stay still, to listen. "And Nicolas? Why didn't she tell me about him?"
Mande swallowed, her gaze softening. "She loved you, Mr. Makidi. And she loved Nicolas. But he was not yours by blood...she made me swear, in her final days, to keep that secret. To raise Nicolas as your own, to protect him from any harm this truth might bring."
The weight of her words hit me like a blow. Julianna had known all along, and she'd kept it from me, trusting only Mande with the truth. My heart twisted, torn between grief for the woman I had loved and the bitter taste of betrayal. But the truth was out now, and there was no going back.
I looked away from Mande, trying to make sense of the wreckage Julianna had left behind. Nicolas was not my blood, but he had been my son. I had shaped him, molded him to carry on my legacy. And yet, standing there in that quiet kitchen, I felt more alone than ever.
When I finally spoke, my voice was steadier than I felt. "Thank you, Mande. You've kept your word...until now."
She nodded, her face etched with sorrow, as if she, too, mourned the loss of this secret. The truth had come to light, but at what cost? And now I had to decide what that truth would mean for my family, for Nicolas...and for myself.
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