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Betty squeezes my hand, offering me her silent support while Theodore moves to stand behind me. His hand presses against my hip, pulling me into him gently.
“Your mother was taken into police custody this morning, along with Gregory.”
“Okay,” I answer slowly, cocking my head to the side. “And you’re here to what? Ask me to testify in favour of them? Your wife and your friend?”
“I’m here because I owe you an apology.” His voice is so quiet, I barely hear the words coming from his mouth. “I did wrong by you, Fallon, and for that, I am deeply sorry. I know my words probably mean very little after the years of pain you’ve suffered under your mother. I let too much happen to you, that no father should ever have allowed for their daughter.”
“Why did you?” I whisper breathlessly, leaning into Theodore’s chest and letting his warmth sooth my tense muscles. He wraps his arms around my waist, dropping a kiss on my head before tugging me towards the chair opposite my dad.
“I met your mother when we were only sixteen, and it was expected that one day we would marry and have children together. A bit like you and Theodore.” He nods towards us, his eyes filling with sorrow as his gaze lands on the way Theodore holds me. “Everyone expected that of you two, but not for the reasons it was for your mother and me. The two of you have always been drawn to each other. When you were kids, we couldn’t keep you apart, so we all assumed that one day you’d end up together. But your mother and me, that was an arranged marriage. Something neither of us had any say in.”
“What’s this got to do with anything, Dad?”
“I was in love with somebody else,” he tells me, lifting his eyes to mine. “When I was eighteen, I fell in love with the daughter of our housekeeper. Your mother and I were already engaged by then, but I was stupid and young and thought I could have everything.”
He blinks heavily, hiding the tears that form in his eyes. “Your mother found out and told my parents, who forced me to end my relationship with the woman. But what I didn’t know at the time, she was pregnant when I left her.”
My brow furrows as he continues talking. If he got another woman pregnant when he was eighteen that means . . . “I have a sibling.”
“Yes,” he confirms, turning towards Bennett. “You have an older brother.”
Betty gasps beside me, her eyes moving between Bennett and me.
“Shit,” Theodore mumbles under his breath, squeezing me tight while I try to process this. I shake my head, watching my dad closely. There’s no way that my whole life I’ve known Bennett as my cousin for him to have actually been my brother.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Dad tells me, his voice unwavering. “I ended the relationship and went about my life with your mother. When Bennett was sixteen, his mum reached out to me, wanting me to get to know my son. So, I went, and those same feelings I had for her were still there. I fucked up, again.”
“Dad,” I say slowly, my voice unsteady. I have a feeling that the next words out of his mouth will change my life completely. And when he speaks, I’m right.
“Caroline isn’t your mother.”
FORTY-THREE
“Whothefuckismy mother, then?” My dad blanches as I shout the question at him. Theodore lets me loose when I tap at his arms, the need to move so overwhelming. I pace across the floor, my mind a whirl of confusion and sadness.
My whole life I’ve believed one thing, for what?
The room is stifling, with all eyes on me. “I can’t do this.”
Without another word, I pull the door open and rush from the office. Footsteps sound behind me, but I don’t bother looking back. I need to escape. Tears spill over my cheeks, the cold air bitter against my skin when I reach the grounds.
My body trembles, my hands clenched into fists at my side. A large hand presses down on my shoulder, tugging me into a solid chest. “Hey, kiddo. I’m sorry.”
I throw my arms around Bennett, letting myself break under his hold. My cousin—well brother, I guess—doesn’t let up, just keeps a tight grip on me while I fall apart. He whispers apologies in my ear, his voice dry and full of sorrow.
“Is my mum, your mum?”
“Yeah, she is, but Fallon—” He stops talking, his words ending on a deep sigh. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence for me to know where he’s going with it. His mum passed away when he was seventeen, right around the time I was born. It’s the reason Dad took him under his wing. His only living relative, outside of our grandparents on Dad’s side—but they were too old to take in a rebellious teenager who was struggling with the grief of losing his parent.
“Why did no one ever tell me?”
“Caroline could never have kids of her own, so Robert convinced us it was better this way. To let you believe she was your mum.”
“But she wasn’t,” I snap, pushing out of his hold. He watches me cautiously, sadness etched in every line of his face. “She was never a mum. She hated me. I was her punching bag, every day of my life. If she wasn’t using her fists, she was using her words. And you all stood by, just letting it happen.”
His face is a sheet of white, and his eyes shine with unshed tears. Never in my eighteen years have I ever seen Bennett look so tortured, so horrified. “I didn’t know, kiddo.”
