Page 46 of An Accidental Flatmate

“How does that connect to anything?” Cas growled.

“Told me I was being an idiot not approaching you.”

“Do you need something? Is Evie okay?”

“I’ve missed you.” Mo grimaced. “And that’s the why. You’re a genuinely good guy. Outing Monique was all I could do for you. I’ve barely had time to breathe in the last few years.”

“You’re good now? Evie’s good?”

“Losing Alice knocked us both for six. We want—wanted—children. Evie just got pregnant sooner than anticipated. I nearly lost them both. You knew that. The miscarriage and then the news Evie couldn’t have children landed us in a dark place.” Mo sipped orange juice. No additives, Mo was teetotal. “Maha held Evie while she screamed and threw things at the wall. Held me too. Truth be told.”

“She never told me.”

“No surprises there. Maha let slip one day what Monique had done. I don’t know if she intended me to say something or hoped I would. I guess she worried no one would believe her. But, there was Monique treating an unborn child like a meal ticket, when I would have cut off my right arm to save Evie and my baby.”

“Maha didn’t tell me that either.”

“The secrets your sister knows.” Mo shook his head, his grin devilish.

“How’s Evie?”

“Wonderful. We’ve applied to a foster agency. Maha is our referee.” Mo took another pull on his drink. “How’d your mum and dad take the news about Monique?”

“They were gracious, welcoming—" His father’s expression of regret was etched into Cas’s soul.

“But disappointed?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what gets you with dads like ours. That dog-sad look of disappointment as if you’d stolen their last bone before you abandoned them on a rocky archipelago. I reckon they practise in a mirror, and I reckon your parents have had a lot fewer regrets about their children than the average.”

Cas let that pass. Maha, Zahra, and Hunt were children to be proud of.

“I heard your dad had to sell the family flagship building.” Mo glanced sideways at him. “Then I heard Hunter had bought it and decided there might be a public and private version of that story as well.”

“You’re right. The financial markets have been unreliable, the pandemic shifted some tenancy and occupancy patterns, and Dad faced a hostile takeover.” He paused, swallowed another mouthful of his drink. “From Nick Richardson.”

“Hunter’s dad?”

“Yep,” Cas said, knowing Mo wouldn’t share the news.

“Hell, are you and Hunter okay? Is your dad okay?”

“Hunt and I are good. Dad’s okay about the sale, but it changed something in him. I’m not sure what.” He could trace the change back to Monique’s arrival in his parents’ home. And that was a conversation he hadn’t had with Hunter yet. “I moved back in for a while.” That wasn’t a lie, but it provided cover for his silence over ... far too long.

“Welcome to the club.” Mo shrugged. “Fathers have a way of bringing us to heel.”

Cas wanted to dispute that, because he’d resurrected his textile design business dream and was finetuning the details. Operating a successful business venture might remove the disappointment from his father’s eyes. Cas was sweating on it.

“I might finally have shifted some attitudes in my family.” Mo nursed his drink.

“A machismo-culture bypass? Is that even a thing?”

“My baby sister, Suzy, already thinks she can replace me.”

Cas laughed. “She was always fearless.”

“I didn’t thank you enough at the time for just accepting that I had to pull the plug on us. You were entitled to go ballistic. I made promises to you.”

---