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She perches on my other side and, reluctantly, I turn towards her.
She grimaces as she meets my eye and speaks low. “I’m sorry about Ford. He says you saw him in a compromising position.”
I’m not sure I care to talk about that right now. I shrug.
“He really does care for you. He was just upset. He thought he never had a chance. He made a mistake.”
It’d been a week since he’d left me in Wellington. I imagine it was a ‘mistake’ he made several times. “She’s engaged, Cress. He knew that.”
“I’m sure she was just getting one last fling in before she ties the knot.”
I gape. “Did Rush know about this arrangement?”
She’s quiet a minute. Not long enough. “I’m sure you and Ford can figure it out.”
“Ford is not my most pressing concern right now.”
She nods sympathetically. “It will work out.”
“He might die, Cress.”
She sighs. “That would be really sad. I hope it doesn’t happen. But if it does . . . You and Ethan are strong. You’ll be excellent brothers for Julia, and no doubt you’ll inherit something and that will support your futures. Ethan could really be a teacher then, and you can write. You’ll be free to live your dreams.”
Free to be with Ethan.
Nausea sluices up my throat. “He’s our dad, Cress. ‘It will work out’ can only mean he survives.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Don’t.” The uttered word comes from behind me.
We swivel toward Ethan, whose eyes glitter with pain. “Thank you for coming, Cress. I think you should leave now. This is family time.”
She flushes and stands. “Of course. Do you have a key to our flat? Ford and I can move my stuff in while you’re here.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I don’t think we should move in together, Cress.”
She startles, frowns. “What, because I was trying to highlight the silver-lining in all of this?”
Ethan’s jaw is hard. “That’s one of the reasons. The smallest.”
She looks offended, hurt. She keeps blinking.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan closes his eyes, anguished. He’s barely slept, his dad is fighting for his life a corridor away and we can’t be in there with him.
“We only get one life, and it’s too short not to spend it with the person you’re in love with.” His eyes open and the flutter in my belly spreads to every part of me, my toes, fingers, the hip that’s exposed to air, my nape, my armpits, the tips of my hair.
Not even Mum, turning sharply toward us, can stop it.
Ethan notices her too. His voice wavers, but he forges on. “I want Fin to move in with me. I’ve always wanted it to be Fin moving in with me.”
Cress is momentarily speechless. “Ford said . . . I thought he was joking. You’re brothers.”
“Stepbrothers,” we say at the same time. But I’m not sure I’d care about the difference.
I stand up, looking Ethan in the eye. It feels like we’re rushing over the edge and into the chasm again. Only this time, the waterfall will be permanent.
I cup the back of his warm neck, fan my thumb over the tear leaking from the corner of his eye, and kiss him. He shakes. I shake.
Neither of us lets go. “E kore te aroha e mimiti mo¯u.” My love for you is never-ending.
Cress makes a sound of disgust and pushes past us. We don’t watch her leave. We press our foreheads together.
We stiffen as Mum approaches and he clutches me more tightly. “I love you,” I whisper again.
I turn, stepping in front of Ethan, letting Mum know. She will have to hurt me to hurt him.
She shakes her head. “You think I don’t already know? You are my son, he is my son. I know every shade of both of you. I know you’ve loved one another since the moment we arrived at Mansfield. I expected this. I expected this to come a long time ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“This is your own journey, it’s not my place to steer you. My place is to embrace the direction you steer yourself.”
“Does Tom . . .”
“He has his suspicions too, of course.”
My throat is tight. “He’ll hate it. He’ll—”
We’re called. We can see him now.
Everything becomes secondary to that.
A nurse ushers us down the hall outside his room. “He’s very tired, he may drift in and out of sleep.”
We enter the room. Tom lies on the hospital bed, pale, exhausted. His smile is weak.
Ethan starts to cry. This time he can’t hold back the sound and I hug him through it and lead him to the chair next to Tom.
Mum kisses his brow from the other side and whispers to him.
Tom searches for Ethan’s hand and Ethan clasps him. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, son. And you, Finley.”
My voice rattles. “Fin. It’s Fin. He whanaunga koe.”
You’re family.
He smiles, like this little concession means the world to him. “I love you, Fin.”
