‘It’s not complicated. He loves you. You love him.’
‘Lex—’
‘And it’s not like he doesn’t know you. Do you really think he started dating you not knowing what he was getting into? Heknowswe’re a package deal.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘If you’re worried about me and the twins, don’t be.’ Lex’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. ‘It’d suck if you went out for a long time and then broke up, but do you think anything could be worse than when Dad left? And we got through that. It wasn’t fun, but you know what we found out? We don’t even reallyneedhim.’
I had to press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, hard, against the tears that were threatening to fall.
‘You’re all we need, Mum,’ Lex said. ‘We could lose everyone else in the world, and as long as we have you, we’ll be all right.’
I sniffed. ‘Sweetheart—’
‘And you deserve to be happy. Like Satoshi makes you. Whenever you see him, your eyes light up. They sparkle. So do his, when he sees you.’
A tear escaped. I wiped it away roughly with my wrist.
‘Maybe you’re right, and it won’t work out,’ Lex went on. ‘It’d be sad, but we’d be okay. We’d all be okay, because you have us and we have you.’
More tears now, inexorable, unstoppable.
‘But maybe it will work out,’ Lex said. ‘Because Satoshi loves you. Hereallyloves you. And if you don’t at least try, then – then I think that’s pretty stupid, actually.’
Unsurprisingly, the next couple of days were a blur. By day, in the few moments where no one needed me, all I could do was stare into space. By night, alone in bed, all I could do was stare at the ceiling, and think.
On one level, Lex was right. Satoshi loved me. I loved Satoshi. It should be simple.
But I still didn’t think I’d been wrong. He might love me now – love me so much that he tore himself apart for me – but I knew better than anyone that love didn’t always last.
And Isamu was right too. We’d only been together for a little while – barely together, at that – and I’d already hurt him so badly.
On Thursday, as I sat at my desk staring into space again while the kids were at school and my parents were out sightseeing, I got a text from Matt.Babies born,was all it said, with a picture of two tiny red-faced infants in fluffy blue blankets attached.Know our agreement is once a month but would like to call kids to introduce them.
I looked at the picture, and – for the first time in the last few days – felt almost nothing.Ok,I texted back.
We did the call when the kids got home from school. ‘This is Stephen,’ Matt said, voice tinny through my laptop speakers, ‘and this is Blair, your new little brothers.’
Lex didn’t say anything, and Rosie was gnawing at her bottom lip, but Georgia leaned forward, peering. ‘Is their last name Sinclair too?’
‘It sure is. You’ll get to hold them when you and Mummy come to Melbourne in a few weeks. Are you excited—’
‘Blair is a stupid name.’
‘Georgia!’ Matt and I exclaimed in unison.
‘Well, it is!’ Georgia looked to me for validation. ‘Blair Sinclair. It rhymes.’
Lex turned away from the camera. I could sense, rather than see, them laughing.
After we hung up, Georgia’s expression was still thoughtful. ‘Mummy,’ she asked, ‘is it silly that we have Daddy’s last name instead of yours?’
‘Well, it’s your last name as much as his,’ I replied. ‘You have as much right to it as he does.’
‘But it’s notyourlast name. It’s not even part of it anymore. If you had another baby, their last name wouldn’t be Sinclair, would it?’
‘I’m really not planning to have another baby, Georgie-girl.’
