Chapter : (Regret Carried in Silence)
The drive back from federal hospital was painfully quiet.
The black SUV glided through the evening traffic, its powerful engine barely making a sound beneath the thick silence that had settled inside.
Outside, Lagos remained as lively as ever.
Yellow buses competed for every inch of road. Street vendors balanced trays of roasted corn, groundnuts, and bottled drinks on their heads while calling out to pedestrians. Office workers hurried toward bus stops, eager to beat the evening rush. The orange glow of the setting sun reflected against rows of glass buildings before slowly disappearing behind the skyline.
Life continued.
As though nothing had happened.
Inside the vehicle, however, the atmosphere was suffocating.
No one reached for a phone.
No music played.
Even the air-conditioning seemed unusually loud.
Barnabas sat behind the steering wheel, his movements calm and practiced.
His expensive wristwatch caught the fading sunlight as he adjusted his grip.
5:54 PM.
His eyes lingered on the time for only a second before drifting toward the rear-view mirror.
His father sat beside him.
Mike looked exhausted.
Not the exhaustion caused by work.
Nor the fatigue of endless meetings.
It was something much older.
Much heavier.
The proud chairman who usually sat with perfect posture now leaned quietly against the leather seat, staring absentmindedly through the tinted window.
His gaze wasn't on the passing buildings.
It was somewhere far away.
Barnabas released a quiet sigh.
His father had spent almost an entire day inside a hospital.
A full day.
He couldn't remember the last time Mike Bello had postponed meetings, ignored directors' calls, or abandoned company matters for anyone.
Not even family.
Yet today...
He had remained outside John's VIP ward without complaint.
Waiting.
Watching.
Praying in silence.
Barnabas understood one thing clearly.
Whatever his father felt toward John...
It was far deeper than anyone had imagined.
Still...
One question had always lingered inside his heart.
If he cared so much...
Why abandon him?
Antonio finally broke the silence.
Unlike Barnabas, he had never been good at hiding curiosity.
He turned slightly toward his father.
"Dad..."
Mike slowly shifted his gaze from the window.
"Hm?"
Antonio hesitated.
Only briefly.
"You were worried today."
No answer came.
"I've never seen you like that before."
Mike remained silent.
Antonio took a slow breath before asking the question that had troubled him for years.
"If you care so much about that illegitimate child..."
"...then why was it you who left him at the orphanage?"
The words settled heavily inside the vehicle.
Barnabas instinctively eased his foot from the accelerator.
Even he wanted to hear the answer.
Mike slowly turned toward his younger son.
His eyes remained sharp despite the obvious exhaustion.
"Who told you that?"
His voice was low.
Calm.
Antonio met his father's gaze without fear.
"Everyone knows."
"It has never really been a secret."
Barnabas nodded once.
"I've heard the same story since I was young."
Mike's jaw tightened.
For several long seconds...
He said nothing.
Only the soft hum of the engine accompanied them.
Finally, he spoke.
"My parents."
His answer was simple.
"They refused to allow him to bear our family name."
Antonio frowned.
"Because he was born outside marriage?"
Mike gave a slow nod.
"My father valued reputation more than blood."
"My mother feared society."
"They believed acknowledging John would destroy generations of family honor."
Barnabas glanced toward him through the mirror.
"What about you?"
Mike remained silent.
His fingers slowly intertwined.
"I..."
The single word lingered.
He wanted to make up an excuse but yet again to him it won't change the fact if anything that has happened
"I was weak."
The confession was so quiet that both brothers almost missed it.
He gave a bitter smile.
"I kept convincing myself that I would bring him home later."
"Later..."
"...never came."
The vehicle became silent once again.
Mike looked down at his own hands.
Hands that had signed billion-naira contracts.
Hands that had built an empire.
Hands that had once let go of his own child.
"When I left him..."
"...he wasn't crying."
His voice became distant.
"He couldn't even speak properly."
"He simply kept holding my finger."
The memory surfaced with painful clarity.
"I remember peeling his tiny fingers away one by one."
His throat tightened.
"He smiled at me."
Mike closed his eyes.
"He thought I was coming back."
Neither Barnabas nor Antonio interrupted.
The sorrow inside those words spoke loudly enough.
"I walked toward the gate."
"I almost turned back."
"Almost."
His breathing slowed.
"But fear won."
"My father's authority."
"My family's expectations."
"My own cowardice."
"I lost to all of them."
The honesty left both brothers speechless.
Antonio slowly lowered his head.
"So all these years..."
"...you've regretted it?"
Mike laughed quietly.
It wasn't a happy laugh.
It sounded tired.
"Every day."
"I've attended board meetings while wondering whether he had eaten."
"I've negotiated billion-naira contracts while wondering whether he was sick."
"I've celebrated company anniversaries while wondering if he remembered my face."
His eyes drifted toward the fading sunlight.
"When he entered university..."
"I knew."
"When he started Better Choice..."
"I knew."
"When his novels became famous..."
"I secretly bought every one of them."
Barnabas looked genuinely surprised.
"You read his books?"
Mike nodded.
"Several times."
"I wanted to understand the man he became."
Antonio blinked.
"But...why never approach him?"
Mike remained quiet for a long time.
When he finally answered...
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"What right did I have?"
"I abandoned him."
"He survived without me."
"He found a grandmother who loved him."
"He found Joseph."
"He built a family."
"He built a life."
Mike slowly looked out the window again.
"I wasn't afraid that he would hate me."
"I deserved his hatred."
"What frightened me..."
"...was the possibility that he wouldn't feel anything at all."
The words struck both brothers deeply.
Because indifference...
Could be far crueler than hatred.
Barnabas swallowed quietly.
For years he had admired his father as a businessman.
Today...
He saw only an aging man crushed beneath decades of regret.
Antonio leaned back into his seat, unusually quiet.
His curiosity had been answered.
Yet somehow...
He felt no satisfaction.
Only sadness.
Outside, evening slowly settled over Lagos.
Streetlights flickered to life one after another.
Inside the SUV...
No one spoke again.
Three men continued driving beneath the darkening sky.
One carried guilt.
One carried understanding.
One carried questions that still remained unanswered.
And somewhere inside the quiet VIP ward of federal hospital.
John Bello slept peacefully, completely unaware that the father who had once abandoned him had never managed to escape that single decision.