Page 57 of You Are Cordially Invited

Cameron Wano seen to leave the hospital in tears.

Cameron Wano says he can’t face a life with Reuben in a chair.

What the fuck?

Father says the wedding is off.

Goddammit.

I shoved my phone in my pocket, then pulled it out again and fired off two texts. One to the All Blacks’ media man to get him onto damage control and remind the world that Reuben hasn’t been diagnosed definitively yet. The second text was to a number I’d avoided for two years.

Fuck it.

I typed a text and pressed Send before I could change my mind.

You’re not a father, you’re a sickness in every life you touch, including his. You won’t break us up no matter what you do so shut your mouth before someone does it for you.

And if the media got hold of that, so be it. It seemed a perfectly rational response to his fuckery.

Reuben’s chest rose and fell in quiet sleep, but I couldn’t sit there any longer. If I didn’t burn off my rage, I’d do something stupid like respond to some of the ridiculous online nonsense, and that wouldn’t be a good thing.

I woke Reuben to tell him I was going downstairs and brushed off his concern about why I appeared so upset. The last thing he needed was to learn about his father’s current arseholery before he had to. He quickly drifted back to sleep, and I took the nearest elevator to the ground floor intending to prowl the ER for some distraction. But the minute the doors rolled back, I realised my mistake.

Lights flashed and microphones were shoved in my face.

“Cam, what have you got to say about Brian Taylor’s statement?”

“Cam, is Reuben paralysed?”

“Cam, is it true the wedding’s off?”

“Cam, are you going to adopt another baby?”

My gaze jerked around at that one, the hesitation long enough for the group to cage me against the wall. My throat closed over, my pulse beating a tattoo against my ribs, and I held my palm up—the continual flashing of light blinding me until only coloured spots hung in my eyes.

“Cam, what will happen to Cory?’

“Cam—”

“All right, you lot, I warned you earlier.” Josh pushed through the reporters to stand in front and began herding them back toward the main doors. “You’re not supposed to be inside the building. Get out, now.”

“But this is a public space,” someone protested.

“Actually, it’s not.” I found my voice and pushed off the wall, chasing them down. “This is hospital property, and if you create a disturbance, security can remove you at will, or Josh here can arrest you. Take your pick.” I made sure my glare hit every single one of them. A few smirked in reply, happy to know they’d rattled me, the jerks. Then they left, grumbling all the way.

“Sorry.” Josh slipped alongside. “They got away from me. I take it you saw the headlines?”

“Bastard. Who does that to their own son? I’d cut off his balls if I thought he had any.”

Josh snorted. “How is Reuben?”

“Sleeping. No change.” I nodded to the reporters standing in a group outside the door. “The worst thing is, they’re right.”

“Who? The media?” Josh looked confused.

“Yeah, about the wedding, at least,” I said.

Josh grabbed my arm. “Don’t let them get to you.”

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