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He switched off the car and looked around with an indecipherable look on his face.
‘Are we visiting someone?’ she asked. Whoever they were, she imagined they were vastly wealthy.
‘Not exactly.’ He was staring out at the park opposite, where a few people were milling about, but for the most part it was empty. Then Hannah noticed it wasn’t the adults who had his attention, but a little boy and girl playing together. They were adorable, and Hannah imagined what it would be like when she was out at a park much like this one with their son.
Matt turned to her, his face serious. ‘I’ve been thinking that the penthouse isn’t suitable to raise a family. It’s not safe enough. I don’t relish the thought of our son crawling around on the terrace.’
‘Okay,’ she replied uncertainly. ‘What are you saying?’
‘This house belongs to me. I was undecided as to what to do with it, and until recently was fairly certain I would sell it, but now I think it’s the best home to raise a family in. What do you think?’
When Matt had said he wanted to show her something, this had been the furthest thing from her mind. She shouldn’t be surprised, of course, not given how much he’d proved that he wanted to provide for their child. Seeing this house, though, brought home the reality of them being a family.
‘I don’t know what to say...’
‘You can redecorate as you wish. Pull the entire thing apart. Whatever you want. I don’t care what it costs.’
‘Wow.’ Hannah was lost for words. Right now she was seeing exactly how much Matt could provide. Much more than she ever could, regardless of how successful her career was. This was beyond her wildest dreams. Hannah’s hand rested on her belly as she took in the tall house.
‘Why do you have this place if you were just going to sell it?’ she asked, still not looking at him.
‘It used to belong to my parents. I grew up here. It was left to me in the will.’
Her head whipped round to look at him. There was even less emotion on his face than there was in his voice. It was all just fact: it had been his parents’; now it was his. It was useful.
‘Will you have a look at it?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Of course.’ She unclipped the seatbelt and as she climbed out noticed for the first time that there was a rear-facing car seat installed in the back behind her, with a rectangular mirror attached to the headrest.
Her heart squeezed. How could she go on pretending that they would be nothing more to each other than convenient parents for their child when Matt kept showing her how much he cared? Everything he did made her want to take a chance on him.
And it was scaring her.
Even so, this meant so much, and she took his hand but said nothing as he led her past the low, black metal railings to a black door with a shiny gold knocker.
Inside, the house was full of furniture. It was as if whoever lived here had simply locked the door on the way out. Everything was perfectly in place. Every surface looked expensive, but it had no personality. Not like Matt’s penthouse, that had colours, textures and so many signs of life. It was lived in. This place felt cold, as if it had been staged to look like the perfect home.
‘Can I look around?’ Hannah felt she needed permission. It felt a lot like snooping through someone’s life.
‘Be my guest.’
She walked through room after room. She admired everything from the pristine indoor swimming pool to the back yard she could see her son playing in. It was beautiful; of that there was no doubt.
This had been Matt’s home for a great deal of his life. She tried to see him running through these halls. Had he been a happy child? Picturing him as he was now, she couldn’t see him as anything but the boy with a ready smile. But she saw no evidence of him here.
Her parents’ home had been a shrine to their years together. In fact, an entire wall had been covered in a mosaic of frames, each holding a picture of a different year at school. There was none of that here. This place had been curated by the best interior designers money could buy.
Hannah walked into the master bedroom. She could almost see herself in this room—waking up to a bright day, Matt taking their son across the road to the park. He was right—this place was perfect for their family.
Approaching the mantle, she noticed several silver frames—family pictures. They looked as if they’d been taken by photographer. Lots of people did that. It didn’t mean anything really.
Curiosity taking hold now, Hannah opened a chest of drawers, breathing a sigh of relief when she found them mostly empty...except one drawer, the bottom one. It held a large, black rectangular box. Taking it to the bed, she slipped off the lid and found a treasure of photographs.
Matt looked exactly as he did now, just smaller. It seemed as though he’d been the tallest member of the family barely into his teens. Those bright-green eyes sparkled as if he held a secret. But every one of the pictures looked posed. There were no unguarded smiles. The family didn’t look genuinely happy. It didn’t capture a moment. It was like looking at a stock image of a perfect family.
These weren’t like her family pictures, where they’d been so happy the memory flew off the glossy card. She thought of how her parents had taken her to the beach on balmy summer evenings. They’d made sandcastles, even when she’d been too old for them, but it had been fun. She remembered how they’d gone up to Falls Creek every winter in her teens to enjoy the snow and spent every day skiing or snow-mobiling. These pictures were nothing like her own.
She looked at his mother’s demure expression. No one would ever see that in her family photos. Her family had made funny faces at the camera; they had asked passers-by to take a picture of them as they ran into the cold coastal water, yelped and nearly jumped out. She treasured those memories. Did Matt have any like that?
