“Do I have children? You hid the children from me?” The former’s anger knows no limits.
“Quiet,” I ask him. “The boys will hear. They don’t know where their father is.”
“You deprived the children of their father, and me of sons,” he says, seething, staring at me.
“Yes, yes, I’m the villain,” I blurt out, terrified to my core.
“Please, let’s postpone the showdown for later. Right now it’s New Year’s night, and our children are waiting for Santa Claus. Don’t spoil it for them.”
“Don’t spoil it?” he smirks viciously.
“Well then—” his voice sends chills down my skin.
“Boys!” he says even louder.
“Will you go visit Santa Claus at his place?”
“To Santa Claus?”—two curious little faces peek in from the kitchen.
“Yes,” the real father of the boys nods firmly.
“To his castle!”
New Year’s night is full of surprises. I argued with friends, put on a Santa Claus costume, and came to surprise my ex. I wanted to play a prank on her. But it turned out exactly the opposite—because I found out that, it turns out, I have children.