Dan looks up at me, his eyes full of questions and memories, like looking into a window to our past.
“You’ve already been so helpful. I couldn’t possibly ask you to stay any longer.” I widen my eyes and move around Angelos, rummaging through a cupboard for a takeaway menu.
My hands press against Dan’s chest as I try to usher him to the doorway, but he’s unmoving.
His gaze still fixed on Angelos as he asks, “How old is he?”
His voice is calm. Too calm.
But his eyes say everything.
17
DAN
It’s like looking at my kid brother, Dom. The same smattering of sun-kissed freckles across his nose. The same goofy teeth we both had before braces—a trait carried on from my father.
Rose stays silent as if frozen, her knuckles white as she moves away to clutch the edge of the worktop.
A lump rises in my throat. “Hey kid, I’m Dan.” I manage a smile. “I’m not just the gardener, I’m an old friend of your mum’s.”
Rose tilts her head. “Wow, the tea must have worked. You’re actually telling the truth.” Her sarcasm is in full swing. “I think friend is a bit of stretch, though.”
“I’m Angelos.” He stares back at me as if studying me with the same quiet scrutiny I’m giving him. Does he see the same resemblance?
My gaze slides to Rose. Her eyes mist over, a glassy sheen like condensation on a cold windowpane.
“How old are you, kid?”
“Thirteen next week.”
My heart stutters. I do the math. Rose doesn’t need to confirm it. I know the truth. I feel it with every fibre in mybeing. Every emotion swirls in my gut like a tornado churning up my insides.
I’ve seen photographs of him, but it’s only now, being with him in the flesh that I’ve put it all together.
My heart thuds against my ribs, fighting to escape the chaos. I rub my temples, my whole body needing to lash out at something, but my head screaming to stay calm in front of the kid.
My kid.
Angelos opens the fridge door. “She’s never mentioned you before.”
My eyes lock with Rose’s. “Funny, she never mentioned you either.”
“Mum, can I choose where we order from?”
“Sure.” Her gaze doesn’t leave mine. A tear hangs from her lash, a wrinkle in her brow. So many unspoken words conveyed in a single look.
Angelos opens a drawer and pulls out a Chinese takeaway menu. “Are you staying for dinner, Dan?”
Rose’s voice croaks, “I think Dan has to go.”
I bristle my spine. “Chinese food sounds good, actually.” I match her glare. My fist clenches around the packet of gum in my jeans. But not even a joint would calm this rage inside me.
“Can I place the order, Mum?” Angelos grins, oblivious to the storm brewing between us. “Mum always orders the same thing. Sweet and sour chicken, plain chow mein.” He wrinkles his nose. “Boring.”
“Sweet and sour, huh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Shocker.” The sweet girl I knew is now a sour woman who hates me so much. She’s kept this secret all these years.
Rose’s fingers tighten around the edge of the counter. “Dan… I…”
