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“This looks amazing,” I breathe, staring down at the crispy bacon, creamy avocado and what looks like perfectly poached eggs. Clearly, he did a fantastic job teaching himself to cook.
“So,” I start, needing to dig a little more into his life, “you’ve mentioned that your father is a giant cock. But you haven’t said much about your mum.”
My eyes lock on his lips as he pushes a forkful of food into his mouth, and the small smile that appears tells me all I need to know about the woman who brought him into the world.
“She’s… incredible,” he says after a few seconds.
“Tell me about her,” I say, needing to hear about the woman who makes his face soften the way it is.
“She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met. The bullshit that she’s endured, the pain she’s suffered… and after all these years, she’s still smiling.”
“Are they… still together?” I ask with a wince, kind of assuming they’re not.
A laugh rips from Toby as he lowers his fork and holds my eyes. “No, thank fuck. He trapped her for years, blackmailed her into being his little puppet, just like he did with me. But she’s finally free.”
“How did she get out?” I ask, not realising that I might be pushing a little too hard until the question falls from my lips.
Darkness flashes through his eyes before he blinks, banishing it.
“He fucked up. His lies started to unravel and the truth emerged. It helped set her free.”
“And you?”
“Yes and no,” he says, cryptically.
I take my first bite of breakfast, silently groaning to myself as the tastes explode on my tongue, and wait to see if he’s going to continue.
“It’s going to take me a little longer than her to be able to put it all behind me and move on.”
“That’s fair enough after everything he’s put you through,” I say. “I’m sure no one expects you to move on like it never happened.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll get there. There are just a few things I need to work through before I can close the door on that part of my life.”
I smile at him, wanting him to know that I understand without sounding patronising by telling him.
“Siblings?” I ask, my mind flicking to memories of me and Joe growing up.
“A sister. Different dad, though.”
“Lucky her,” I mutter.
“You have no idea. As with everything to do with families though, it’s complicated.”
I can’t help but laugh. “My brother and I had different dads too. It never made me feel any less connected to him, though.”
“How did he die?” Toby asks.
My lips part to answer, but the words don’t come for a moment as I wonder if I ever actually told Toby that I’d lost Joe.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern covering his face.
“N-nothing. Sorry. He… uh… got involved with the wrong crowd a few years ago.”
“A gang?” Toby asks, lowering his knife and fork to his now empty plate.
“Yeah. The Royal Reapers. It’s a motorcycle club.”
Toby’s brows lift. “I’ve heard of them. They’ve got quite the rep.”
