“I can understand why you’d feel that way, Mrs Swift,” Kyrone said. “Jared and I have talked about his prognosis and the best- and worst-case scenarios. None of it changes the way I feel about him. I love your son, Mrs Swift.”
Jared leant his head against Kyrone’s shoulder.
“You should be home,” his mother repeated, her words more of an impassioned plea this time.
“It was hard for my mum when I moved out,” Kyrone said. “I guess it’s always hard for a parent to let go of their child. But you’re going to have to.”
Jared’s mother shook her head. “Under normal circumstances, yes,” she agreed. “But these aren’t normal circumstances. Jared needs a carer, not a boyfriend.”
Her words stung, and Jared sucked in a harsh breath.
“He needs both,” Kyrone said softly. “I want to be both of those things for him.”
“Ah!” a voice said from the doorway. “The prodigal son returns.”
It was probably exactly the right moment for Jared’s younger sister, Bianca, to make her presence known. It certainly broke the tension when she flounced in and perched on the arm of the sofa her parents were sitting on.
“This all looks very serious,” she said before staring at Kyrone for a good few seconds. “It’s a shame you’re gay.”
“Bianca!” their mother chastised.
“What? Aren’t I allowed to point out that my brother has good taste?”
Jared chuckled. Not for the first time, he wondered if he and Bianca had got on despite the four-year age gap between them. She was eighteen and about to take her A levels. Like him, she was in many of the photos on the wall, smiling brightly in every one.
“Why the serious faces?” Bianca asked.
“Jared was telling us that his headaches have been getting worse,” their father said.
“That’s not exactly what I said,” Jared objected.
“Not fun,” Bianca said apologetically.
“Sweetheart,” their mother began, addressing Bianca. “Would you give us a few minutes?”
Bianca rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Fine. Does anyone want a drink?”
Once they’d all told her what they wanted, she wandered through the French doors into the kitchen diner. Even though she vanished from sight, Jared could hear her opening and closing cupboard doors and putting mugs and cups down on the worktop. He figured she was making more noise than she needed to in order to prove she wasn’t listening in to their conversation.
“We want you to come home,” Jared’s mother said.
“I’m twenty-two—” Jared began.
“You’re sick,” she cut in. “You’re still recuperating. This is where you belong.”
Jared shook his head. “You need to let me live my own life.”
His other sister, Cordelia, was away at university. He doubted she’d have any trouble moving out for good once she had finished her degree. He knew it was different. Both his sisters were healthy, but it still irked him that his parents couldn’t let him go.
“I’m not moving back,” he said firmly. “I’m not an invalid. I just needed to cut back my hours, that’s all.”
“If you lived here, you wouldn’t need to work at all,” his father said.
“Iwantto work,” Jared told him, not for the first time. “I want to take care of myself.”
His mother stood and, one hand over her mouth, turned towards the window that overlooked the back garden.
“We’re worried about you,” his father said. “We love you. We just want what’s best for you.”
