His eyes flash with defiance. “Don’t call me mate.”
I step farther into the room, keeping my voice firm but even, though my pulse thunders in my ears. “Then show your mother some respect.”
“Why should I?” he snaps, chin jutting forward. “He—” He flicks a glare at Rose. “He’s not my dad.”
Silence slams down, thick and suffocating, like a storm cloud about to burst.
My fists curl at my sides, heat flooding my chest. The truth is right there, burning on the tip of my tongue.I am your father.I want to shout it, roar it at him until the truth finally breaks through his stubborn skull.
But Rose was right.
You don’t drop a truth bomb like that in the middle of a screaming match. Not if you want it to land the right way.
Rose draws a steadying breath and looks him dead in the eye. “Don’t you dare speak to Dan like that.”
Angelos scoffs. “So you’re just gonna let your boyfriend talk to me like I’m shit? You’re taking his side?”
“That’s enough,” I bark, my voice booming across the kitchen, my patience snapping.
His cheeks flush with angry heat. “No, it’s not enough! You come in here like you own the place, like you own us. Well, you don’t!” His voice cracks with emotion, matching my own rage and heartbreak colliding in my chest.
He shoves past Rose, his shoulder bumping hers, and storms towards the stairs. “I hate you!” he yells over hisshoulder, before thundering up the steps and slamming his bedroom door hard enough to shake the frame.
The words hit her like a blade, her shoulders curling inward as if to shield herself from the impact. Rose rubs her temples, eyes closing for a moment as if she’s holding back tears.
I let out a slow breath, unclenching my fists, my whole body thrumming with frustration and the ache of unsaid words.
“I wanted to tell him,” I say quietly, my voice rough. “Right there and then. But you were right.” I glance towards the ceiling, as if I can still feel the echo of his footsteps. “He’s not ready.”
Her shoulders sag. “Neither am I. I’m scared, Dan. I’m scared I’m going to lose him.”
“Hey.” I corner the counter and wrap her in my arms. “Let him cool off. I’ll try to talk to him later.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Her voice wavers. “We had such a great time on Monday for his birthday. He was so happy. And now…” Her words dissolve into silence, but a chill creeps down my spine.
It’s like he’s been poisoned against us.
Against me.
And I’ve no idea how to cure it.
Maybe Dom was right all those years ago.
Only it’s our son that sees me as the villain.
32
ROSE
Angelos wipes his red eyes and sniffles as I enter his room. He wouldn’t come down for food, so I let him eat chips and pizza in his room while he cooled off. He clutches an old stuffed toy, a resemblance of the dog we had when he was a child. I couldn’t take the dog with us when I fled and Angelos has never forgiven me.
I sit on the edge of the bed, Sir-Pounce-A-Lot creeps through the gap in the door and jumps up, pawing at Angelos’ chest as if he senses his anguish as well.
“Want to talk about it yet?” I pat his arms as he lies on his side, curled into a ball. “I hate it when we fight. I love you.” I close my eyes for a brief moment. It’s just been me and him all this time. He’s never had to compete with anyone for my affection before. Not even Magnus.
“I’m sorry, okay.” He lets go of the stuffed toy and lets it fall to the ground as he sits up in the bed and takes the drink of milk I’ve brought him. After taking a big gulp, he wipes the milk from his top lip. “I just don’t understand why Dad can’t move back in with us when he’s out of prison.”
“Because there are things that you’re too young tounderstand. But when you’re old enough, I’ll tell you. Magnus and I don’t love each other.”
