Page 99 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

“I understand why you thought it might be best for everyone,” I say carefully. “But I’ve had to live my whole life feeling as if I have one foot in an alternate dimension. I went through the trauma of childbirth… I lost my womb… and I have nothing to show for it. You have no idea what that’s done to me.”

“I know it’s been hard for you…”

“No, Mum, you really don’t.” Tears prick my eyes. I try to hold them back, because I don’t want to cry—I want to stay strong and in control. “I’ve had to keep this secret for nine years, and when I did eventually tell the man I loved—or thought I loved—he dropped me as if I was something disgusting he found on his shoe.”

Her brow creases. “That’s why you broke up with Charles?”

I don’t reply. I wanted him to understand, and to tell me that what happened to me back then was wrong, and that I was right to feel angry about it. When he didn’t, when he lookedhorrified and disappointed in me, and he walked away, I didn’t think I’d ever recover.

I think of Joel now, and take a deep, shivery breath. What would his reaction be? I’m so afraid to tell him because I don’t want to lose him, too.

I let the breath out slowly. I don’t want to argue with Mum. That’s not why I came here today. “Look, I want to talk about what happens now. I think it’s time we told Rory the truth.”

“No.” She makes a slashing gesture with her hand. “Absolutely not.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Zoe! You have to put him first. Will it be best for him to know that the woman he’s always thought of as his mum actually isn’t? That the girl he thought of as his sister is actually his mother? That she got pregnant and gave birth at fourteen? And couldn’t deal with it all? That she went off the rails and was unable to bring him up? Don’t you think that’s going to completely screw with his mind? Do you really want to put him in therapy at the age of nine?”

My face flushes at the harshness of her words. “‘The truth will set you free.’ It’s in the Bible, Mum. ‘The Lord detests lying lips,’ right?”

It’s her turn to flush. She can hide behind the declaration that she made the decision to adopt Rory because I was unable to cope, but we both know the real reason was because the thought of admitting to her church and her friends that her daughter had given birth at fourteen was too much for her. We’ve never spoken about it, but she took me away to her parents in Darwin when she discovered I was pregnant, as if I was a character in Downton Abbey facing shame in local society. When we came back to Wellington, she carried the baby as if it was hers, and she and my father adopted him quietly just a few months after that.

Because the fact that I’d given birth was kept a secret, I didn’t receive any therapy. That wasn’t to say my parents weren’t loving and caring. They looked after me, and luckily I recovered well from the surgery. They kept me busy and encouraged me to work hard and see my friends. But I recovered by blocking out what had happened. By pretending I hadn’t given birth to a baby boy who I wasn’t allowed to call my own.

As an adult, I considered finding my own therapist, but in the end I decided not to go. I wasn’t sure of the legal implications, and honestly I wasn’t sure how I’d feel raking over those coals again. I just wanted to forget… But of course events like this don’t stay buried. They’re like shrapnel, and they always work their way to the surface eventually.

“I don’t want Rory to know,” Mum says. “He’s happy and healthy, and I know going to Darwin will be a challenge, but he’ll be just fine. You can come and visit us whenever you want, and we’ll be back from time to time.”

“I don’t want to see my son once in a blue moon, Mum.”

“He’s not your son,” she hisses. “He’s your brother. I want you to stop saying things like that. He might overhear.”

Misery overwhelms me, and it makes me reckless. I blink back tears, lift my chin, and say, “I might just tell him. You can’t stop me.”

She glares at me, furious. “Get out,” she says eventually.

I stare at her. “What?”

“Go home. I don’t want you here anymore.”

My jaw drops. “We have to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t.” She gets to her feet. “Go on, go.”

“Mum!”

But she remains standing, absolutely livid, and eventually I rise, too. Without saying another word, I pick up my car keys and walk away, around the house and back to my car.

I drive back to my flat, go upstairs to the flat, and walk into my bedroom. I lie back on the bed, and only then do I start to tremble.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I take it out, wondering if it’s my mum, but it’s Joel.

How are you doing, sweetheart?he asks.I miss you! Are you coming down tomorrow? I’d love to see you.

My eyes fill with tears. I miss him so much. I think about his reaction when I told him I couldn’t have children, and how supportive he was.I just want to be with you, he said. But then he didn’t know all of it.

So what do I do now? If I don’t tell him, it’s going to remain an invisible barrier between us. I think he already suspects there’s more to the story.Honey, have you told me everything?he asked me when I told him in the cabin. Eventually he’ll wheedle it out of me because that’s what he does, so doesn’t it make sense to tell him? If it is going to end our relationship, it would be better to do it now and get it over with.

---