AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘TELLMEABOUT your parents?’
She considered that as he reached up and held back a particularly long and spindly branch of the pomegranate tree.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance of the citrus grove as they walked, early in the morning, before the sun was too high, through the kitchen gardens. In the distance, a team of servants had scattered, carrying out their work separately but in harmony—some picking fruit, vegetables and herbs for the day’s meals, others tending to the garden. Yet despite their presence, India and Khalil were virtually alone. This walk had become a habit of theirs in the week since visiting the wonders of the Athani Caves. Neither had discussed it, but it seemed to happen regardless, and it had become a highlight for India. She relished these opportunities to be alone with Kahlil, to speak with him, to brush her hand against his, to feel his nearness and to realise that they were walking side by side—into a future they would share. It was a different togetherness from what they shared in bed. That was primal and animalistic, driven by an insatiable chemical need to come together. This was slower, more exploratory, as though each were walking a tightrope towards trust and acceptance, trying to find their way to solid ground without falling.
‘What would you like to know?’ She plucked a lemon blossom from a tree, bringing it to her nose. The aroma was delightfully sweet.
‘What did your mother do?’
‘She was a teacher,’ India said. ‘And very passionate about it.’
‘And your stepfather?’
‘A librarian.’
‘Did they meet at school?’
‘No, at our local library, actually.’ She swished the lemon blossom between her fingertips before passing it to Khalil to appreciate. ‘After my father left us, we moved around a bit. Mom struggled with rent, and work—I was only little. It was a very hard time in our lives. I was too young to remember much of it. I know there were times when we were living in a car, eating from food banks.’ She shook her head, oblivious to the way Khalil stared at her, his features frozen, hanging on her every word, painting the picture of the life she described. ‘Then, one day, we settled, for a while, in Brooklyn. She had a friend from school who lived there—Juanita—who was going to Australia for a year’s work. She offered Mom the house on really cheap terms—basically no rent, just the upkeep. It was such a gift—a real opportunity for Mom to claw her way out of poverty. We didn’t have much, just a suitcase, and I was an avid reader, even at that age. So Mom would take me to the library, almost every day. And while I was checking out the books—’
‘She was checking out the librarian?’ he prompted, lifting a thick, dark brow.
‘Something like that.’ India laughed. ‘Dad—I call him “Dad”, because he raised me—was so kind. The opposite to my biological father. And he doted on us. He helped Mom get a contract with a local school, even though her work experience had been patchy for a few years. I enrolled in the same school, which meant childcare was easier. And before Juanita came back from Australia, they were married, so we moved in together. They were such a great couple. Anyone who knew them adored them. They were so much fun to be around. Dad was a total dork. He had theme songs for our family, and he’d randomly burst into song when we were out in public, like at the mall. I used to be mortified, but now, that’s one of my favourite memories.’
‘He sounds unique.’
‘Yeah, he was.’
‘And your biological father?’
‘A total non-event.’ She shrugged, the pain in her chest ever-present, even though her birth father didn’t deserve that. ‘He blew in and out of my life from time to time, when it suited him, but never for long, never with any reliability, and the older I got, the less he knew how to be with me, how to speak to me. Eventually, he stopped coming altogether.’
‘And I take it he did not support your mother financially?’
She poked out her tongue. ‘Not even a little. He was the worst.’
He stopped walking, a frown on his face. ‘India...’
‘What is it?’
‘I’m very grateful that you came here, to tell me about your pregnancy. I can see how hard it must have been for you, not knowing how I would react, not knowing if I would be like your biological father or your actual father.’
Her heart lifted at his distinction. Despite the fact English was his second language, he had understood the nuance perfectly.
‘It was hard,’ she agreed with a nod, moving towards him and linking their fingers. Sparks flew through her and her heart lifted, but there was always a dark spot within it, a weight that pressed her down to earth. Knowing what he believed her capable of sat like a stone in her gut. She closed off her mind to it, ignoring the threat of an aching pain, wanting to feel only the good and warmth of the morning. ‘But worth the risk, I think.’
‘I think so too.’ His smile blasted light into her world; she returned it without hesitation. ‘What about your parents?’
He reached for a flower as they passed by a tree that India didn’t recognise. Fragrant with a small blue fruit, the blossoms a pale pink.
‘What about my parents?’
‘When will you tell them about all this?’
‘When you have agreed to marry me.’
She blinked slowly. ‘Haven’t I agreed?’
