Page 146 of You, As You Are

“I was told you were unwell.”

“That what the redhead said?”

“You keep her out of your mouth, and you tell me what is wrong.” He might hate the man for how he treated him, but wishing whatever ailment this was upon him was beyond cruel – a level Iain wouldn’t stoop to.

“Iain,” Lewis intoned, the warning going over his head.

Alun raised his unshaven chin. “You’re being cut from this estate.”

Iain’s spine hardened. He’d wanted an answer about his father’s health, not to hear he was being severed from the farm. He supposed it should have come as more of a shock than it did. “Come again?” he said drolly.

Rhys came around the sofa and intervened like the pacifier he never was when they were young. “What he means is, when the time comes, we want to buy you out of your third of the property.”Webeing him and Lewis, Iain assumed. “You can take the money and use it for whatever you need to.”

“Mythird?” Iain thought his name had been blacked out of all deeds and documents years ago.

“There is land here that belongs to you,” Lewis confirmed.

Rhys shrugged his broad shoulders. “Think of what that money could do for you.”

It could do a hell of a lot. It could sustain him for months out of work, alleviate the stress of affording food or his mortgagewhilst he figured things out. It could fix his house or maybe even put a deposit on one which wasn’t so run down.

But it wasn’t right.

Iain hadn’t had anything to do with this place for a decade. Funding his life with money coming from something he despised for all its painful memories would stay on his conscience for years. He couldn’t do it.

“You can have the land. I don’t want your money. What I want is to know why you are sick.” He directed the masked question to his father.

“That is the other reason why you are here.” Alun pushed up out of his cushioned chair, rising on shaky arms and unsteady legs.

A deep-rooted instinct shot up in Iain to help. His boot shifted half an inch, but?—

“Da—” Lewis rushed to Alun and offered his hand, an arm around their father’s back.

Iain stole a glance at Rhys with folded arms, swiping the pad of his thumb across his lips. He was met with a look in return that said the ‘when the time comes’wording had been on purpose. It would be sooner than anyone was admitting aloud.

Alun got himself steady on his feet, Lewis’ grip tight on his thin, diminishing body. He should sit back down and say what he wanted to from there, but stubbornness was a heritable trait in this broken family.

“A slow demise puts a certain perspective on things,” their father said, shuffling forwards in Velcro slippers. He met Iain’s eyes with tenfold more physical effort than it would’ve taken as many years ago.

Iain’s insides churned over once. “Demise …?”

“It’s Parkinson’s Disease, son. Not a nice way to go.” Alun coughed, and Iain took one step to lessen his exertion in coming near. “Yourtaidhad it,” he continued. “Doctor says there’sevidence it can be passed on, so wouldn’t be right not telling you.”

Disease?This is what they’d been trying to contact him about all along? What was already a difficult situation was becoming even worse. Every time that his brothers had called recently, he should’ve at least given them a chance without shutting them down.

“The chance is small.” Joining the duo, Rhys added, “Ten percent, maybe. We’ve been tested, and so far we’re clear, but there’s no guarantee.”

Iain scrubbed his hand over his mouth, fingers scratching against his beard. Maisie had been right about him needing to find out if there was a chance Alun’s illness could affect him later in life too.

She was right … but she wasn’there.

With Lewis’ aid, their father made it to stand in front of him. There was once a time when they would have stood eye to eye, but that didn’t happen today. Iain shouldn’t feelfinallyas though he had an upper hand, and the way his father’s held a slight tremble brought that guilt that he did so right up to the surface.

Alun said, “I want to apologise while I’m still able. I should never have tried to force you to stay.”

His entire lifetime Iain had been waiting to hear those words, and their hollow expression wasn’t enough. He didn’t need a fanfare or the man to get down on his knees and beg for his forgiveness – he just wanted to feel in his chest that what was said wasmeant.

Wordshad been his father’s weapon for long enough. Now he could use them to repent.

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