Page 71 of That One Moment

I told myself on the train down, that I wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving - for doing what I had to do, and I don’t, but that doesn’t make the fact that I wasn’t here when he needed me, or when I needed him, any less painful.

“I had to go, Dad.” I finally give in and lean back into Jamie. He wraps an arm around my waist and rests a hand over my stomach. I don’t miss the questioning look in my father’s eyes but he doesn’t say anything. “I’ve been pushing you away for years, and even more once you married Maria.” I look at the beautiful blonde standing next to my dad, with a hand on his shoulder. She’s never been anything but welcoming to me and I repaid her with a bad attitude and a boatload of indifference. “How could I stay? It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to help me through the worst days of my life. Not when I’d never been there for you.”

“Families don’t keep scores, Caiden,” Dad says firmly, but not unkindly. “And that’s exactly what we are - you, me, Maria, Jamie and Cooper. I know we’re not the family you always wanted but we’re what you have.”

Maria steps in front of him and kisses me on the cheek. “We love you.” I can’t recall the last time my own mother told me she loved me - I think I was probably fifteen or sixteen. It was so long ago, I don’t remember what it was like to have a mother love me. Maria’s words penetrate my heart, filling in cracks that have been forming since long before Cooper died.

“Why? I’ve been so horrid to you.”

She smiles softly and looks over my shoulder at Jamie. “I’ve raised a teenage boy, I’m used to the bad attitudes. You didn’t want a stepmom or a stepbrother, I’ve been in that position myself, so I understood. But you couldn’t scare me off or stop me from loving you and Cooper like my own.”

Jamie scoffs adoringly, his breath hot on my neck and I can’t fight off my grin.

Silence falls in the kitchen while warm summer sun streams through the windows and the open back door. A few seconds pass before my dad speaks again.

“I’ve really missed you. Thank you for coming home.”

Love.

Family.

Home.

It all feels like too much and not enough at the same time. I want to say more, to inhale more of their sweet words and their understanding but my body and mind are too tired.

My knees turn to jelly, my chest tightens and I choke on a tidal wave of tears made up of years of anguish. My dad takes me from Jamie’s hold, tucking me into him and letting me cry for every moment of my life that’s hurt. For the times my mother stood me up and made me feel like I was worthless, for the times I let my twin down, for the moments I felt like hurting myself was the only answer. I cry for the brother I lost and the time we lost before, when I could have been laughing with him but was instead drowning myself in drinks and men. And I cry for the three years I spent without this - without my family.

With no more tears left to cry and my body trembling with overwhelming exhaustion, I finally pull away from my dad and resume my place in Jamie’s arms. Maria - who like her son, is a natural caregiver - has made four cups of tea and laid out slices of chocolate cake. We each take a mug and a plate and then sit in the lounge. Maria and Dad on the large sofa, Jamie on the armchair and me on the floor between his feet. His hands card through my hair while I sip on my tea. It’s warm, and comforting, and together with the feel of Jamie’s reassuring presence, I feel more centered and balanced than I have in a very long time.

“Is someone going to explain this to me, at some point?” Dad asks, pointing at me and Jamie. The atmosphere in the room shifts and behind me, Jamie’s hand tightens in my hair.

“Mum has already expressed her concern,” Jamie replies. I missed most of his conversation with his mum this morning so wasn’t aware she had concerns. I can see it though, how this looks to others.

“Then I trust that you know we only want what’s best for you both,” my dad adds, diplomatically.

We both nod and he adds, “I can’t get my head around how you two suddenly tolerate each other.” He cracks a grin, breaking the tension in the room.

Jamie laughs and I tip my head up. ”I tolerate him because he’s actually not a huge grumpy ass. Most of the time, anyway,” he says, his voice full of affection and eliciting a chuckle out of Maria and my dad. I don’t say the words out loud but in my mind, I think them. I adore this man. He is the glow of the sun pushing through all my darkest clouds.

“You were either born with a strange talent for Uno or you cheat,” my dad jokes, throwing his cards on the table. “I’m done. Time to call it a night, I have a very early start tomorrow.” He stands up and stretches, then leans down and whispers in Maria’s ear. She blushes, smiles at us and then stands and says her goodnites.

“They’re still stupidly in love,” I point out once they’ve both left the room.

“Disgustingly,” Jamie says.

It’s been two days since my reunion with my dad. Being back in this house has felt…odd. Good, but at the same time, unsettling. On one hand, fostering this new relationship with him has filled a space inside me that sat empty for years. It’s a comfort to know that he wants me around and that he loves me. It’s a feeling I sought out so often from my mother, ignoring that he was offering it to me all along.

But on the other hand, I don’t feel like I fit here - not fully. Not in this place that has Cooper all over it - a house covered in his photos, his belongings still stored in a room, and millions of little memories everywhere I look. It’s not just the house - Cooper never lived here, I did - but the area too. Cooper and I grew up on the other side of the town but it’s the same seafront we visited as kids, the same forest we used to walk through on cool autumn days, wishing we had a dog in tow. Everything about this place is a reminder of Cooper but more so, a reminder that he’s gone.

I know my relationship with Dad and Maria will be fine with the distance between us. It’s Jamie I’m worried about. We haven’t talked about how this thing between us is going to work once I’ve left. The distance isn’t huge but still feels like an ocean apart, and I’m not sure we’re at a place where long distance could work.

You could ask him to come with you.That’s the dominant thought in my mind when I think about leaving, but also the one thing I can’t bring myself to ask him. Can I really ask him to pack up his life and move with me, without knowing for sure that there’s a future for us?

“I think it’s sweet. Gives me hope,” Sage says wistfully, snapping me from my thoughts. She’s holding a wide awake Nova whose blue eyes seem fixed on me even though Sage says she’s too young to focus on objects.

“You’re young, Sage, and a catch. You’ll meet someone who I think is good enough for you and Nova.” That makes Sage glare at Jamie, but he only laughs and carries our empty glasses through to the kitchen.

“Can you hold her for a second? I need to pee,” Sage asks, all but shoving the baby into my arms. My entire body tenses, my back going ramrod straight. I’ve never held a baby and this one is so small and fragile looking. And I don’t think she likes me much.

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