Shewaswith someone else, right?
The words from moments before come back in a rush.Your son is so sweet. He looks so much like you. Those eyes…But she was wrong.
He can’t be…
I glance at Gran and her face is frozen, just like her frame is against my side, but there’s an apology in her gaze. An understanding of things I had no idea were even possible hits and my gaze flies back to Nox…
His eyes are wide with confusion. Hisgreeneyes. Maybe that particular color isn’t as common as I thought.
I clear my throat and push down the panic—is that what this feeling is?—then force a smile. “That is cool, Nox. I-uh, just need a minute. Can you hang here with Gran for a bit?” I ask, pulling away from her. With one last glance, the look on her face tells me everything, and the only world I’ve ever known crashes down around me.
I bolt for my room, and the second I’m through the door, I sprint for the toilet. I hit my knees, the hard tiles unforgiving against them, and my meager breakfast from this morning makes a reappearance, along with the tea I was drinking at the desk.
It can’t be true. There’s no way. It’s not possible. We were only together once—well… twice—but we used protection.
She would’ve told me.
Someone would’ve told me. My grandparents… hers.
If Gran had known, she would have said something. We’re family. You don’t keep secrets like this in a family.
My brain decides to lay on some guilt and remind me that I kept secrets from them for years about why I never came back too. Maybe if I’d just told them what I saw in Glasgow that day they would’ve encouraged me to ask some damn questions. Maybe I wouldn’t be heaving my guts up right now.
The wracking clench of my stomach stops and I slowly push to my feet. The mirror shows me a man who’s white as a sheet. Even my freckles look paler than usual. My eyes glisten behind my lenses and I’m going to blame that on the vomiting instead of the emotional roller coaster taking place inside my body.
There’s a knock on the door, gentle but firm.
“Jameson.” Grandad’s voice permeates through the wood and I flinch at my own name.
Jameson. Jameson. Jameson.
Lennox Jameson.
Lennox Jameson with the green eyes.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I can’t hold the words in any longer so I swing the door open, coming face-to-face with a man I have admired my entire life. “Did you know?”
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, but I don’t take it to mean no.
“Take a breath, son. It’s not what you think.” His voice has always been a balm—something calming in times of stress or turmoil—but right now, even it can’t reach me through my dismay.
“It’s not? I can see on your face that it’s exactly what I think.” I spit the words, unable to hold in the pain searing through my soul. I have never once yelled at my grandfather, but right now I have zero ability to regulate my emotions, and he’s taking the brunt of it.
“When I saw him last year, I wondered. His age. His eyes… They’re like yours, like your grandmother’s. We’ve only known since then.” He looks like he wants to touch me, hug me, dosomething, but I feel like a caged animal and begin to pace around the room.
A year. They’ve known about this for a year.
A year where their contact with me has grown ever more persistent. A year where they kept asking me to finally come visit. Was this why?
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you never say anything? Does she know that you know?” Dammit, this is making my head hurt. “Avi. Does she know?”
My stomach threatens to revolt again and I swipe my hand across my forehead, feeling cold sweat.
“Yes,” he says with a sad, apologetic look in his eyes.
“God dammit.” I push my hands into my hair and down to my neck, pressing my fingertips into the base of my skull.
