By Friday morning, I am still pissed. A tight ball of fury waiting to explode. So when the driver stops me in front of the mansion gate and the twins are not outside waiting for me, I nearly detonate. It takes a strangled sigh, another look at the rearview mirror where my eyes meet with the driver's to see how red the tips of my ears have turned. And I drum my foot into the car until the tightness in my chest recedes.

Retrieving my phone, I double check to see if the text I sent was delivered. No surprises there. I haven't made that mistake after that tantrum at her school. But my kids are nowhere near. That familiar anger claws at my jaw, I told her I would be here in two minutes and three minutes have passed without them.

Today is the first time I have to step out of the car to get them, when my feet meet the ground, a wave of nostalgia hits me. This used to be my home. Our home. Until I-we, no, she ruined it. She could have fought for us like she always did. Given me another chance, I would have done anything to keep my girls.

All three of them.

But it turns out a determined Elna Stark is an unstoppable one. She will crack once I slither my way into her life like I did the first time. I am going nowhere. She will always be mine. Her and the kids are mine.

The sensor at the giant gate picks up on my movements, maybe she did. I plaster a fake smile as the gate slides open and the twins burst out the front door. They stop to stare at me with identical mischievous smiles, I groan, those two are at it again. It's one plot or the other, a scheme to get both of us in a place.

They want us back together. Ever since they understood our situation, they have worked hard at getting us back under the same roof. I would be a liar if I said I didn't want the same thing as them but right now, all I can think of is my wife's pretty lips parting to let out a moan for another man. A man she sent selfies of her naked self, whispered how much she missed him while touching herself. Who does that? Only her.

Against my better judgement, I rewatched that goddamn video, trying to figure out who the selfies went to. Torturing myself until sleep dragged me to a dreamless land. And she's to blame for my crankiness.

I am operating on little sleep, pent up anger, rejection and I don't need the kids pulling any cute shit today or anytime soon. Taking one step into the large compound, I spare a glance at the fountain in the middle, at least she maintains it. The smile on my lips remains, I work on making it more genuine. My babies can spot fake smiles from a mile's radius, only positive and good vibes are allowed around them.

Brenwyn Elna Stark is the first one to run to me, curls bouncing as she jumps on me for a hug. I catch her midair, spin her around and her childish giggles chips the invisible blocks on my shoulders. She peppers kisses all over my face, I hoist her on my hip, her legs circle my waist and her arms lock around my neck.

Branwyn Amahle Stark leans on the door, legs crossed at her ankles, scowl on her face while watching Bren who tries for the umpteenth time to braid my hair. I think she might be the female version of me.

Cold and calculating.

I don't know how to feel about that. Scared? Maybe. Anxious? Hell yeah. I am working on being the best role model to my girls but I don't want them to be anything like me. Like their mother? Yes, please. She has to be the best person on earth, though she has grown a wild streak of late but Bren is just like her.

"Bran," I say once I stop in front of her. Bren squirms in my arms, I release her and crouch to hold Bran's hand. She yanks it from me, my lips press into a line. With her, you never know what to expect. "Bran."

"Don't call me Bran, it's a boy's name."

Is it? If I hadn't been under so much pressure to get names for the kids, I might have found fancier ones. Hearing her voice out my stupidity makes me wonder what I was thinking. Clearly, I wasn't. I couldn't have. I am not over the fact I was kicked out of the labour room on my wife's order. We tried to make up for my poor choices with their middle names. Well, Elna did, that one was on her alone. As it has been.

I pry Bran's fists open, tickling her until she wheezes with laughter. Unlike her mother, her resistance is weak. "What should I call you?" I ask and she slides her hands to my shoulders, grinning from ear to ear.

"Wyn," they chorus. They look at each other and share a laugh, sending a pang through my chest at their open display of love. I'm not sure I had this, if I did, I have no memory of it but I intend to protect theirs.

Wyn is better than Bran? I direct my gaze to Bren who bounces on her toes. "Do you want me to call you something else too?" She shakes her head, I smile and rise to my feet. "Okay. Bren and Wyn?" They nod.

Their hair is in the pigtail braids I did the last time they were at my place and I strongly suspect Elna has something to do with it. I am still awful at it, they are never this neat but the thought of her remaking it for my sake causes love to spread through my chest. That woman loves me, her aloofness is a facade.

Wyn tugs on the tip of my tie, I look down. "Carry me."

I lift her, she pinches my cheeks, displaying her gap tooth before hiding her face in my neck. These are the little gestures that remind me she's not one hundred percent me and I like it. I stretch my free hand to Bren and make a turn. My business here is done, I have my girls for the next three days, we can leave.

"We have to kiss Mummy goodbye," Bren says and I freeze. I should have known. They never give up but today, I will be breaking their little hearts. I resume walking, Bran-Wyn taps me and I stop. "Daddy?"

My heart melts.

When my girl says that word with her soft smile reserved for only me, I cannot refuse. I am whipped. If they ask for the world, I'll give it to them without a second thought. The rest of us can go live on Mars.

"Okay." Bren's smile is contagious, I stare at the door expecting it to open. She should have heard us by now, if she didn't, she should know they would want to see her one last time. "Where's your mummy?"

"Don't ask us. Call her," they chorus in a high pitched tone and giggle simultaneously.

Daddy's little girls? Wrong. More like Daddy's evil girls. A second goes by as I mull over their responses, should I reprimand them? I decide against it. Elna thinks I am too lax with them, the long essay she sent me about allowing them past their bedtime still lives in my head. It was a Friday night, they earned it.

Elna saves us from the awkward phone call, the door opens to reveal her in a long shirt that stops at her knees. She doesn't look my way, I nod at the kids who jump out of my hands to hug her like they haven't spent all week together. They never exude this happiness with me, or, do they? Who do they like more?

"Give Mummy a kiss," Elna says, puckering her lips and the twins dutifully obey. I know a guy who would also love to give her a kiss. But it will be more than an innocent kiss, tongues will be involved; hands too.

A smile adorns my lips as they exchange farewells, I look away when my eyes start stinging. This is one of the rare moments I never witness, so pure and honest I want to tuck the memory somewhere special.

The kids bounce before their mother has a chance to ruffle their hair and the smile making its way to my lips disappears when Elna straightens up. I lost my speaking ability at her stare, those brown eyes draw me in, images of me kissing her flood my being, causing tingles all over my body. Shoving my hands into my pocket to conceal the tent growing in my slacks, I clear my throat but that seems futile. I can't talk.

She reaches for the knob, my heart skips at her refusal to look at me. Even today? On other days, I might have waved her silence off but she is the only one who has ever cared about August fourteen. Granted, it was before I fucked up but it shouldn't matter when I am standing in front of her. She made me come all the way here and I want to hear her say it to me even if her wishes are fake. I need to hear her voice.

Annoyance sinks its tentacles into me, I call out her name before I can stop myself. "El."

Her eyes lift to my face. God. She's still as beautiful as ever. It's almost too painful to look at her knowing she will never fully be mine again. My fingers itch to push her shirt up, to see if she's naked underneath. To touch her in many places. Kiss her. I miss her body squirming under mine. How well she fits with me.

"Do you have something to say to me?" I whisper, praying she gets my unspoken reference. Recognition flashes across her face, she shakes her head and my mood sours. I am reminded of my lack of sleep, her shameless desire for another man.

"Well, I have something to say to you." Her brows shoot up in mockery, I shove my frustration down the pits of my mind. This is a childish move but I need to hear her sweet voice once. "I don't want you putting that mouth you use to suck other men's cock on my kids again."

Elna has always had an expressive face, so I see all the emotions on display. The glaring hurt and quivering of her lips should have made me retract my comment but I don't. I am slightly turned on. And the fact I want to bend her over and fuck her senseless until we both come rattles my nerves. For fuck's sake, she forgot what today is but I still want her. I want her mouth on my dick. I want her sucking me off like it's nobody's business.

I take one last look at her forced smile and almost reach for her cheek, she deserves an apology. Instead, my head dips in a mock salute and I take off. It wasn't my intention but we'll both have to suffer for this.

Storming outside, I try to take calming breaths before I reach the car. The car is eerily silent when I join the twins. They huddle close to the door like they are trying to create a gap between us. I glance at the driver, eyes querying him but he only shrugs and I massage my forehead. The point of picking them up with a driver is to avail us enough time together without any distractions.

"Hey," I say and stretch my hand to them.

Eyeing my limb warily like it's not the part of me that carried them a while ago, they shake their heads and look out the window. Their movements are choreographed, the crossing of their arms on their chest and the pouts that take over their lips while ignoring me for a crime I know nothing about. I give the command for the driver to start the car and we glide down the road in silence until I clear my throat.

"Bren. Bran." Her head angles in my direction slowly. "Wyn." She gives me a thumbs up and I snigger.

Where did she learn that? Most importantly, why are they upset with me? It is easier to deal with Elna's fury, maybe not but I will pick hers over theirs. I am certain they weren't within hearing distance when I was being an ass to their mother. But when they huff and throw their faces to the window after a wistful look in my direction and a dramatic sigh, I start panicking. They will never forgive me for hurting her.

Bridging the distance, I leave an inch of space between us and take Bren's hand in mine, stroking the inside of her palm until she erupts into a fit of giggles like I knew she would. They should know by now I can list all their weaknesses without a thought, attributes I use to my advantage. I am already digging into my arsenal for the winning card, I cannot have my cuties angry at me. One angry woman is enough.

Their identical faces, outfits which match down to their shoes and socks might have confused another person. The driver still has trouble identifying them and I wonder why each time he has to call me to confirm who is who. At first glance, they are identical to a point of confusion but they are different.

Bren smiles like she was born to do that. Wyn smiles like she knows something you don't. I love both of them equally but on some days, I have my favourite. Like now, Bren is still smiling at me but she has moved to my laps while Wyn is scowling at her sister, betrayed by her actions. It will take more than ten seconds to win Wyn over but I have no idea my crimes. Whatever the charges might be, I am innocent.

Sometimes the weight of my sin determines how long I will be ignored. I like to think she ignores me on behalf of herself and her twin since we both know Bren's anger lasts for as long as five minutes. Sliding an arm around Bren's waist to keep her steady on my legs, I pull Wyn to my side, open up my palm for her to lace our fingers and the stubborn lassie does. A good sign. She will be smiling with me in no time.

They share a look, they are always doing that. I will give anything to read their minds, especially Wyn's. Their gazes dart to me, my mouth dries up. Bren tugs on my beards, she's attracted to the hairs on my body. One time she suggested I leave my hair to grow so she can braid it. No one will let her near theirs, she's an awful hairdresser. I did try but two months later, I desperately needed a haircut and a shave.

I wince when she yanks my beard with unnecessary force, her brown eyes twinkles with mirth, she lets her head fall back and her hand goes over her mouth to muffle her laughter. Wyn has my eyes, amber and striking. But they inherited their mother's good hair with a shade of brown that's closer to mine. Their skin colour is a rich blend of mine and El, light skinned and perfect with their antics. I love my girls.

"Happy Birthday Daddy," they say. Wyn joins her second seated on my other leg, they start a birthday chorus in a whisper, skipping some of the words and my face lights up with a smile. They remembered.

"How old are you Daddy?" Wyn asks. She bops my nose, I frown. I should be happy she didn't try to straighten it. They have a knack for wanting to fix things, among many other skills they possess. "Daddy?"

"Old enough to have two beautiful girls," I reply and their faces scrunch but I know they are more than pleased with my reply. Alternating my gaze between them, I mutter, "I love you, Wyn. I love you, Bren."

With an eye roll like they are forced to reply me, they say, "We love you too."

An impish smile curls Wyn's lips when she reaches for her backpack, I expect glitters or something shiny to spurt out but she pulls out a mug. "We bought it," she says with a proud smile. "With our savings."

Bren supports her sister's statement with a nod. "Do you like it?" she asks. I scoff, like?

No, I love it and I say that out loud with a smile that makes my cheeks ache. It is almost the same as the one their mother gifted me. My first birthday gift without the usual sentiments attached to it, I miss her.

The words are the same: Best daddy in the world but with a wink. I turn the mug upside down to get a better look at it and the new addition of my title for them: Daddy's little girls at the bottom has me grinning sheepishly. I might have bawled my eyes out if they weren't staring expectantly at me, I force myself to smile. To remind them how much I love them. I don't understand how I lived without them.

We are approaching their school gate when I ask, "How was your week? Did anything fun happen?" With a pointed look at Wyn, I say, "Did you try anything nice again?" She offers her most innocent smile, the shaking of Bren's head is what truly convinces me of the little experimentalist's innocence. "Hmm."

"We made chocolate cake," Bren chips in.

I nod, pleased they both inherited my love for chocolate. Wyn slides off my lap to get a Tupperware with moist cake. She takes a big chunk out of the slice and slips the rest into my mouth, leaving me no chance to protest the size I received. Bren's eyes bulge, her cheeks flush and she looks to me, expecting me to reprimand Wyn for her manners. But I am more interested in the delicious cake melting on my tongue.

"Branwyn Amahle Stark," Bren screams.

Her sister juts her lower lip, putting the cake out of sight. Wyn's eyes water as she snuggles closer to me, I frown at Bren and she glares at me until I offer a contrite smile. She's the angel you don't want to mess with and Elna must have put her in charge of curbing her twin's excess. Excesses I let her indulge in.

Wyn's tears soak my shirt, my heart thumps and I rub circles on her back. "It's just cake baby," I say in her defence. Wyn nods in my embrace, I almost chuckle. She can count on my support all day, anytime.

Bren holds a small finger up. "Daddy," she says, offering me a close-lipped smile and I grimace. This is not my fight, I can't win this one. When the boss lady raises a finger, it means you messed up. "Branwyn?"

Her sister raises her head slowly, all traces of defiance gone. The car slows to a stop, chatters outside float into the car but none of us alight. Bren is her whisperer, she schools her better than I can ever do.

"Okay. Sorry." Bren raises a brow, my heart soars with pride and I almost give her a high five. She finally learned how to lift one eyebrow. It took us all weekend. "I am sorry for taking Daddy's cake," Wyn adds.

The apology should be directed to me but Wyn's eyes are glued to her sister who opens her arms for a brief hug. Bren pecks her cheek loudly and they giggle. I chuckle and my chest expands with pride.

"May I have some cake?" I snicker. Wyn the cake monster. Her request brings a slow smile to my lips, I nod. She wraps her arms around my waist, presses her cheek to my chest. "Best daddy in the world."

The feeling of bliss is complete when Bren's arms circle my waist, I close my eyes with a content sigh.

This is home.

"You will be late," I whisper but I want them to stay here with me. As selfish as it sounds, I don't want them to grow so they can never ask questions about their separated parents. I want them to be happy.

Catching the driver's pensive smile, I rub the back of their heads until they straighten up. Wyn gets out of the car first, Bren stays back and I grow uneasy when she motions for me to bend to her head level.

She whispers in my ear, "Did you say something bad to Mummy?" I freeze. Her eyes hold no judgement when I raise my head to stare at her, she smoothes my tie and her shoulders lift in a shrug. "Mummy was smiling so hard." I force myself to remain cool. "She smiles like that when she doesn't want to cry."

Stunned by Bren's observation, I am unable to reply and she doesn't seem to mind that. I watch her exit the car, torn. Seconds later, the twins poke their heads into the Mercedes. "Bye Daddy. We love you."

Bren might not have heard me and I am glad for that but she saw her mother's reaction. They disappear before I can reply, I gesture for the driver to start the car. I have a stop to make before the office.