Michael stood frozen, like his brain needed a full reboot. His mind screamed at him to look away, but his eyes refused to listen. He wished—prayed—that he could unsee what he had just seen.
That was his mother.
Naked.
With another man.
Zahra's dad.
The duvet barely covered her. Just her lower half. Her breasts—the same ones that had nursed him as a baby —were right there in plain sight. It was a sight he never imagined, never wanted, never even thought possible. His stomach twisted.
Rachel turned to her left and spotted Michael, standing frozen just a few meters from Zahra—who had just burst into the room to confront her father. In a panic, Rachel yanked the sheets over her exposed body, trying desperately to hide the shame already written all over her.
"Michael, it's not what you think," she stammered, voice trembling.
She made a move to rise, but froze—knowing the duvet wouldn't hold. Her eyes met his, and in them, she saw it all: disappointment, betrayal, heartbreak. Just when he thought he was finally getting his mother back… she had found a way to destroy everything again.
That night, a thousand thoughts swarmed his mind, each one louder and more painful than the last.
Zahra had stormed out of the room in disgust, and her father had quickly retreated to the bathroom to put on his pants. The air was thick with tension, growing heavier with each passing second.
Michael stood across the room, staring at his mother. Words failed him. Rachel, unable to meet his gaze, kept her eyes locked on the floor. Her heart pounded with shame—this was her worst fear come true. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
Then, without a word, Michael began walking toward her. She stiffened, unsure of what to expect. To her surprise, he didn't yell. He didn't walk away. Instead, he sat beside her on the edge of the bed.
Why? Why was he still here? She had been sure he would turn his back on her by now. But he didn't.
The room was quiet and cool, wrapped in uneasy silence. The only sound was the muffled argument between Zahra and her father echoing faintly from down the hall.
"Mom… why?" Michael asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rachel couldn't bring herself to answer. Her hands trembled as she buried her face in her palms and broke down in tears.
"Are there more secrets you're keeping from me?" he continued, his tone growing sharper. "You better tell me now—because I honestly don't think it can get any worse than this."
"It's not what you think, Michael. I…"
"How long?" he cut her off. "How long have you been sleeping with my ex's dad?" His voice cracked, thick with disbelief. "I don't care who you choose to be with, okay? You're a grown woman. You have your life. But why him? Of all the people in the world—why Zahra's dad? You could've been with anyone else. I know you're not just some… random woman out here looking for attention. So tell me—what's the catch?"
"It's complicated. You don't understand."
"Then make me understand!!" He got up and started pacing the room, his hands running through his hair. "You refused to tell me why you and dad separated. I had to endure all the arguments, the tension, the silence —and you never thought —for once I deserved the truth. And now this… You're just full of secrets, aren't you?"
He slammed his hands down on the bedside table, before walking back to the bed and sitting down heavily, his anger still simmering.
"You know back in London. You never asked why I decided to forgive you all for those years of absence. The night I had that accident, as I saw the headlights of the car speeding towards me, my whole life flashed before my eyes. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital. It felt like a second chance at life, like the universe was giving me a shot to start over. I wanted to let go of all the anger, the grudges, the bitterness... everything I had held against you. I just wanted to enjoy being alive, doing things I love and spending quality time with people I care about. You are one of those people. Even if you abandoned me all those years, you were still my mother and I loved you. I wanted us to be a happy family. Me, you, Ruth, Isabelle and dad."
Rachel wiped her tears, her hands trembling as she looked up at him, but she couldn't meet his gaze. She lowered her head, unable to bear the weight of the moment.
"He's not your father," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"What? What do you mean by that? Who's not my father?" Michael's voice was filled with confusion and disbelief.
"Victor… Victor is not your biological father," she choked out.
His eyes widened in shock. His mind raced, trying to process the words. What was she saying?
"Years ago, I had just finished high school when I was betrothed to Victor," she began, her voice trembling with the weight of the memories. "My dad made the arrangement to help us financially. We were drowning in debt, and he struck a deal with your grandfather to bring us into his company. At first, I rejected the proposal. I was in love with someone else—a guy I met in school. But after my dad passed, everything changed. I had no choice but to go through with it. I couldn't fund my education on my own, and I needed to take care of my mother. I needed support. Victor's father offered me that."
She paused, the pain of those years still fresh in her eyes. "Soon after, I broke up with my boyfriend, and Mr. Richards arranged everything for me. He got me into Babcock, covered my tuition—everything. All I had to do was get Victor to fall for me. So, I tried to be friends with him when I saw him in school. At first, he didn't notice, but when he saw I was getting close, he figured out what was really going on. He confronted me, and I told him the truth. But over time, we started hanging out, became close... and I didn't realize he had fallen in love with me by the time we graduated."
"So you used him," Michael said, his voice low, almost cracking.
"I didn't," Rachel replied softly. "Soon after we got married and moved to Abuja, I lost my mother. Victor wasn't even in the country—he had travelled to Germany for business and wouldn't be back for two months. I was devastated, broken. I needed someone—anyone… to just be there."
She paused, her voice trembling.
"That's when Charles came. My ex. He showed up to pay his respects, but he stayed… through the worst of it. Through the pain, the crying, the silence. He didn't leave until I could breathe again. I leaned on him for comfort, for strength… and somewhere in all that grief, it turned into something else. That night… I don't know what came over me. My feelings came rushing back. He made me feel—like a woman again. Like I was alive."
Michael's eyes darkened. "So he slept with you while your husband was away?"
"It's not—"
"You cheated on dad!!"
"Yes, I did," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "And I felt terrible about it… I still do. I wanted to tell Victor, God knows I did—but I couldn't. That night with Charles, we didn't use… protection… I wasn't thinking straight. Everything felt like a blur—like a dream I didn't mean to fall into. And by the time Victor returned from his trip, I was already pregnant… with you."
Michael's heart dropped. He stared at her, the words crashing against his chest like a tidal wave.
"You what?" he asked, almost breathless.
"Charles wanted me to get an abortion," she continued, her voice shaking. "But I couldn't. From the very first moment I felt you growing inside me, I loved you. And so did Victor. You were my first child… I just couldn't let you go. So I kept the baby—and the secret."
She paused, swallowing hard.
"When I had Ruth, someone somehow told Victor about Charles. He didn't believe it at first, but he confronted me anyway. I couldn't … I couldn't lie anymore. I told him everything. He was heartbroken… but he still loved you. Even knowing the truth, he loved you more than anything—even more than his own daughters. But he couldn't forgive me."
She blinked back fresh tears.
"He filed for divorce. And the court gave him custody. I tried to fight it, I really did—but Victor made sure I lost. He wanted to raise you himself. And somehow… despite everything, he still chose you."
Then she looked up and met Michael's eyes, her own filled with regret and a flicker of hope.
"Zahra's father… Charles… he's your real father."
Michael froze. His chest tightened as the truth sank in. A tear slipped down his cheek, then another.
"But Charles and I made a decision —we agreed to keep it between us," Rachel whispered. "We thought it was best… we only kept it from you to protect you."
"Protect me?" he scoffed, his voice sharp and shaking. "Don't say that. Don't even try to twist it. You lied to me —my whole life was a damn lie. You let me live thinking I was someone else's son."
He let out a bitter laugh, almost choking on it.
"My entire life has been one big joke. And now you're telling me… I've been dating my own sister? We kissed! We made memories, we…" He trailed off, disgusted. "You're unbelievable. You're the worst mother ever."
He stood up abruptly.
"Michael, where are you going?" she asked, panicked.
"Far… very far away from you."