“Okay, do you know anything about him?”
“He was a client, someone who tried to have me erased. My mother found out about me too late.” I run my tongue across the front of my teeth in contempt. The more I think about the woman, the more my blood boils.
He pulls me closer, smoothing a hand down my back. “I don’t think that’s true. Your mother has been receiving payments from someone since the day you were born. Every month, for the last twenty-eight years, Nina.”
I lean back, finding his eyes. I think I’m in shock. No words leave me.
“I have a name, if you want it.”
I shake my head, unable to find the words. “I don’t understand.”
“I think he’s your dad, and if the payments are for child maintenance, they aren’t small. It’s a lot of money.”
“I need to get to the studio. I have so much to prepare for the showcase.”
He lets me get up, and I start to dress on autopilot. He stands and reaches for me, clasping my hand in his.
“I’ll call Vinny. Get us a lift. I’m here if you need me, Nina.”
I nod, swallowing the bile that threatens to come up.
It’s all too much.
Fuck this.
Ninety-seven. The number of water droplets I’ve counted on the Audi’s rain-soaked glass. It’s all I can think about—until it’s not.
My father, the man I thought for years didn’t want a thing to do with me, who I thought didn’t even know about me, has been paying my mother maintenance.
He might know me. My name and definitely my age.
I never cared growing up. Why would I want a dad who was like the rest of them? The vile men who still haunt my dreams to this day. I had learnt to stop wondering, to stop hoping for him to show up, eventually latching onto John.
He was the one who took me to anything important, and when it was time for the dad race on sports day, it was always him who would go twice. Once for each of his girls.
What is my mother playing at? Is the money she has been receiving even for me? What if it’s something else? It still doesn’t explain why she would need more than what she gets from the government and me. The hurt is frustrating, I don’t want to feel a thing for her, not anymore.
I used to hold on to the memories. A handful of good that most would deem just standard parenting. The days she would turn up to school on time, looking fresh and happy. The times I’d open the cupboards and find food. And my favourite thing became something twisted. Whenever I hurt myself, the pain would bring me an embrace. She would hold me in her arms for a while, and life always seemed to feel a little less shit.
She’s been lying to me for years, that much I’m sure of, but I don’t understand why? It’s all I’ve been able to think about since Mase told me. Is she that messed up that she didn’t want me to see him? Or does he just pay her to keep her away, to keep me away?
Mason’s strong hand latches onto my inner thigh, pulling my attention from the window. “Nina.”
I wait for him to say more, but he sits quiet, not saying a thing. He feels sorry for me. The pity is etched into the planes of his face.
“I’m fine, Mase.” I turn my face away, not being able to lie to him.
“Nina.”
“What?!” I snap.
He doesn’t hesitate as if he expected my irritation. “I won’t let you be alone in this. You need someone to talk to. Talk to me,” he says, pulling my hand to rest in his lap.
“I’ll call the girls later.”
I know he is trying, but I’m too far gone in my head right now to focus on him. I need space.
I wish I’d walked to work.
