AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Truths
Now
“When did you realise?” My mouth is parched desert sand. Regret is tattooing itself across the surface of my heart and making me wince with hatred for myself and frustration at what once wasus.
Freddy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. There is a faint tremble of his fingers as he works a worn picture from the leather. He passes it to me in silence.
“Why have you got a picture of Isaac?”
“I don’t. That’s me.”
I look closer and sure enough, the clothes on the boy in the picture are nothing close to an outfit I could wrestle Isaac into.
“I knew the moment I saw him.” Freddy confirms my worst fear that there was no way I was going to be able to keep Isaac to myself once we returned to this place.
“He looks like you, too, you know?” Freddy whispers as we walk out of the room. I glance up at him in surprise. His tone isn’t the angry one I’ve been anticipating the last decade.
“That’s funny, because all I see is you.”
Freddy gives a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sure you’ve been thrilled with that over the years.”
‘It’s been a challenge,” I reply, my tone tarter than I expect.
We walk down the rest of the stairs in silence and when we reach the front door Freddy hesitates, unclear what to do.
“So, do you want to talk now, or another time?” All my defences are up, and I sound like a bitch, when really I should be grovelling: asking forgiveness for committing an inexcusable offence and keeping Isaac a secret from his father.
“Uh, now, I think would be best.” Freddy’s body language and tone are stiff and formal in a way I’ve never seen or heard from him before.
I don’t blame him.
I walk for the kitchen, feeling the air move behind me, assuring me he’s following. At the fridge, I pull out two cold beers — this conversation will be far easier with alcohol — and then step through the patio doors and into the night air.
Darkness shrouds me, but it doesn’t help cover the exposed sensation I get when he sits on the garden chair next to mine and turns his intense gaze upon me. Neither of us speak. Instead, we sit there, watching and waiting.
Finally, I crack. My heart hammers a loud marching beat as I lower my head, averting my gaze. “I’m sorry, Freddy.”
I know these words won’t ever make up for what I’ve done, but they are a start. Two words in the right direction.
There is a beat of a pause, and then he leans down, one elbow resting on his knees while his other hand rubs along the back of his neck. “You’re sorry?” His tone is confusing.
‘Yes. I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry all the same.”
“Amber,” his voice instructs me to look up at him. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
Okay. I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere fast.
Gently, he picks my fingers up in his. “You must have truly hated me to stay away all those years. To prefer to be a single mum than come back and tell me we’d made a child.” The hand which still lingers by the back of his neck begins to knead the tension away. He rolls his shoulders this way and that. “You must have really hated me,” he repeats almost to himself.
His self-derision makes me flare with anger. “You should be hating me now, Freddy. You should be shouting at me, punishing me for keeping the world’s most awful secret from you.”
He looks up at me in surprise. “I didn’t give you any choice, did I?” He shudders with the memory. “There I was, walking into that dance like a complete arsehole, ready to let you go, regardless of how much it hurt, and you were pregnant all the time. I pushed you and my child away. I will never forgive myself.”
All my fears and secret fantasies dance around me like fireflies in the night air. “I won’t forgive myself for not giving you the chance to have a choice.” I try to make my eyes meet his with my words. It feels uncomfortable.
