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It would have been easier years ago, before the children were old enough to understand. She and Morgan were going to have to stop frittering about on the edge of things and make some solid plans on how to co-parent. Which involved sitting down and talking to the twins about how the future was going to look.
The house was in darkness, but Morgan’s car was in one of the sheds, the timber doors left ajar.
‘Morgan?’
The door gave way under her hand, opening into the back porch with its usual clutter of boots and a couple of jackets hanging from hooks. She slipped off her dusty shoes and placed them alongside the boots.
The kitchen was empty and she ventured into the shadowy hallway. ‘Morgan? Are you home?’
She passed a bathroom and several empty bedrooms and finally an enormous lounge room overlooking the front stairs. All empty. She suppressed the urge to assuage her curiosity about the house. Maybe he’d walked across to his parents’ place for dinner.
Backtracking, she went down a side hallway that led to a sunroom and some more bedrooms. It had been years since she’d been a visitor in this lovely old Queenslander. She’d expected him to be in the master bedroom at the front of the house, near the lounge room, but perhaps he was using one of the other rooms opening onto the side verandah.
‘Morgan?’
A whisper of sound drew her to one of the bedrooms. The bed was empty and she almost turned away when the faint silhouette against the window impinged on her consciousness.
‘What do you want?’ His voice came thick and hoarse, as if he were fighting a cold.
Becca hesitated, one hand steadying herself on the doorframe. ‘I thought we needed to talk.’
A rumble of rusty laughter shivered the cool air in the room. ‘Slightly overdue, isn’t it?’
‘Your mother didn’t tell you about Edward? That they were twins?’
‘No. She danced around the topic as if the truth were too nasty a proposition to face.’
‘You’re angry with us.’
He turned around, his face a blur in the dimness. She reached for the light switch.
‘No. Leave it off.’
Her hand dropped to her side. ‘We did you a terrible wrong. I don’t know how to ask you for forgiveness. I probably shouldn’t try. I am sorry. For what it’s worth.’
‘I thought … I thought I could forgive you if you’d moved on. If there’d been someone else in your life. If you’d built a family and your silence was to protect your family. But that didn’t happen. I can’t see any other reason for keeping it from me. Not for twelve years.’ He moved closer, away from the window, vanishing into the shadows in the centre of the room. ‘Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you had built yourself a family to protect. If there was someone, where did they go?’
‘There was no-one. No excuse. No-one, nothing to protect but ourselves.’
‘Protecting them from what? Who? From me?’
‘At first, it was about protecting you. Your future. Grace made me promise. At the time it seemed fair enough. Afterwards, when you didn’t come back, it was about keeping the status quo.’
‘The status quo. How many people knew? How many people are out there thinking I’m some kind of louse for abandoning my pregnant girlfriend and my children?’
Becca squinted to try and see him through the gloom. The light from the window had faded entirely. Only the paleness of his face stood out, not clear enough to see any expression. ‘Hardly anyone knows. Not for sure. You’d already been gone from town for years, at boarding school and uni, so most people didn’t make the connection. We never went on proper dates or anything.’
The faint rustle of movement halted. ‘Didn’t we? No. You’re right. We never did go out together. Did you mind?’
Automatically she went to say no, but her determination to speak the truth halted her. The darkness made it easier. ‘Yes. I think I did at the time. I was like any girl who wanted to show off her boyfriend.’
‘You didn’t get much that was worthwhile from me in the end.’
‘I got our children. They’re worth everything.’
‘Is that why you kept them secret? Some kind of revenge?’
‘It wasn’t about revenge. I didn’t think you’d believe me.’
