“I only just found all this out. It happened at the same time you were born, and Scarlett . . . she didn’t wanna ruin what was a happy time with her sad news.”
“But she was yours? Your baby?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s fucked up. She wasyours, she should’ve told you.” A lump instantly forms in my throat at my son’s fierce stance, and then my eyes fill with tears as I watch his do the same before he says, “She would’ve been my sister. I would’ve had a sister.”
“Yeah, bud.”
“I always wanted a brother or a sister. A sister more because of the way you and Milly are.”
“I didn’t know that,” I admit. “You’ve never mentioned it.”
He shrugs. “You’ve never been with someone long enough for it to come up, but yeah, I would’ve liked that. Scarlett’s not old. You gonna have more kids with her? Ava’s step mum’s like fifty. She’s fit, but she’s about fifty, and she and Gabe had twins, so you and Scarlett could go for it.”
“I . . . we . . . I don’t know. It’s not something we’ve talked about, but we are gonna give things another try.”
“Good. I like her. You okay? You doing okay?”
A small laugh escapes me on an exhale, and I shake my head. “Who’s the adult here?”
“I’m not the one running around knocking up women across the country.”
“Fair point, but yeah, it’s been a lot, but I’m doing okay. I do need to ask you a favour though.”
“Go for it.”
I explain to my son what I need him to do.
* * *
“She’s a great girl,” my dad says as I walk out to the alfresco after ending my call with Finn.
“I know,”I tell him.
“Don’t let her go this time,” he says with the raise of one brow.
“Don’t plan to. We’ve already discussed a future together. I just need to get her through tomorrow, get her back home, and then we can restart our lives.”
He nods slowly, then asks, “You okay? The news about the baby must’ve been a shock. You dealing with that okay?”
I pull out a stool and sit at the outside bar next to him.
“Not really,” I admit as I sit. “Right now, I’m feeling drained. So much has gone on this week that I don’t think I’ve really had a chance to process.”
“You need to take some time to do that, bud.” My dad’s big hand squeezes my shoulder. At thirty-nine, it’s a move that still fills me with all kinds of emotions.
“I know.”
He nods. “If you need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”
“Of course,” I say, sliding off my stool and moving in to give him a hug—the blokey kind that includes a back slap.
“Just want you to know. Me and your mum, we lost one between you and Milly, that’s why there’s such a big gap. It hit me hard, hit your mother hard, obviously, but it hit me hard too, and I only had her to talk to about it. There was nothing, nothing set up for blokes, and I felt guilty talking about it, bringing it up to your mum when she was dealing with her own loss while still looking after all of you.”
I lean my arse back on my stool and look at him. My handsome ol’ man who’s been through so fucking much. I don’t even have a wife, never had one, so I can’t even imagine the loss he feels every day.
“I had no idea,” I admit. “But, right now, I’m okay, and if I’m not, I know I’ve got you.”