Page 107 of A Dark Fall

I don’t look up when Jake takes a seat across from me. It would hurt too much.

Neither of us say anything for a long time, the sound of traffic below and his steady breathing all that fills the large space while the silence between us stretches on and on. When I do finally look at him, he’s sitting forward on the chair, tense as he nibbles away at the nail on his index finger. He drops it from his mouth immediately and narrows his eyes on me. Not angrily, but as though he’s trying to work out whatever the expression on my face is telling him. I’m not even sure what my expression is. Because I don’t even know how I feel. Of course I don’t. I don’t know anything. I never have.

“Why would you keep this from me?” I ask finally. It seems the most obvious place to start.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a lie,” I say, and his head snaps up. “You made a conscious decision over and over to keep it from me. To lie to me. You do know. Why?”

“I’ve neverliedto you.”

I want to laugh at that. “Okay, Jake, let me rephrase it. Why didn’t you tell me the truth about having a son?”

He nods. “I should have told you. Iwantedto tell you.” He sits forward, and the leather chair creaks as he does. “I ... I’m just not used to talking about him, that’s all.”

“With women you’re sleeping with, you mean?”

“Withanyone,” he clarifies. “Plus, I thought ...” He shakes his head and runs a hand over his mouth. “Fuck, I dunno. I thought he’d end up being another reason for you not to be with me.”

“What are you talking about?” My voice is sharp and hot. I need to try and temper it. Hysterical isn’t going to help anything, I know that. I feel hysterical though. He has a child, and he never told me.

“You ran from me, Alex, more than once. You didn’t want to get involved with me in the first place. If I’d told you about him, do you honestly think it would have convinced you to give this a go?”

I feel my face screw up in an ugly way. “You think you having a child would have made a difference to me?”

“I just meant ... I dunno, yes, maybe. I thought it would have complicated things further, yeah. And I didn’t want to make it harder for you to see me as someone you could be with.” He looks down guiltily.

“Oh, so you kept him a secret for my benefit. I see. How considerate of you,” I snap. “And how did you see that panning out long-term, exactly?”

He gives me a look, and it’s like a slap across the face. This time, I do laugh.

“Oh, of course. You didn’t see it as a long-term thing, did you?” I shake my head, feeling like the biggest bloody idiot. I sit back as he edges forward a little more.

“At first, no,” he admits. “I wanted you. Fuck, you’ve no idea how much I wanted you, baby, but I never thought ... I didn’t think I could ...” He curses under his breath. “It went too far too fast. And by that time, it was too fucking late to tell you. I don’t know.” He drops his head to look at his hands.

I can’t blame him for thinking that, I suppose. Not when I thought the same. No, I don’t blame him for thinking this might not go anywhere. What I blame him for is lying to me and fucking someone else. That part he hasn’t even addressed yet. I’m about to ask him to when the realization slams into my chest with a loud screeching sound.

“Vicky,” I whisper. “She’s his mother.” It’s not a question, but his face confirms I’m right. “So, you’re with her?” Oh my god. I’m the other woman.

“What? No.” He shakes his head, eyes wide. He moves forward off the chair completely then and comes to sit across from me on the coffee table. Jake takes my hands in his and looks me in the eye. “I’m not with her. I haven’t been with her for a long time.” He shakes his head again. “I’m with you.”

His words don’t bring even a fraction of the relief I hoped for. Weren’t those the exact words I wanted to hear earlier? Didn’t I want him to tell me it wasn’t what I thought? That she meant nothing to him. That it was me he wanted.Yet he has a child with her. That’s not nothing. That’s everything. She’s the mother of his child; I’m a woman he’s sleeping with.I’m nothing.

I stay silent and instead look down at our hands clasped together. He begins to stroke his thumbs over the tops of mine. It feels comforting and soothing.When he lifts his head, he has that same look on his face. Like he’s asking me for something—pleading even—but I don’t know what it is he wants.I feel oddly numb, all my earlier emotions blanketed now with something thick and heavy. Maybe I’m in shock.

He has a son.

“Why was she here last night and today, when I came here?” If they’re not together, then what? They have sleepovers?

“Because she called me last night. She was a fucking mess. She’s always a fucking mess,” he growls.

“That was the call you took in my kitchen last night? That was her?”

Jake nods. “She was out of it. She turned up at the club with him—I mean, she brought my three-year-old son to my fucking nightclub on a Friday night.” He shakes his head angrily, and his nostrils flare. “Paul let her into my office, and she called me from there. When I got there, he was crying and confused, and so I brought him home and put him to bed. I fell asleep with him,” he explains. His tone is almost apologetic, and it makes me feel guilty. I don’t want him to apologize for having to look after his son. That’s not what he should apologize for and feel guilty about. He should apologize and feel guilty for not telling me he had a son he needed to look after.

I picture him cradling his son to sleep, and it does something to my chest.

“You said you’d call. I was worried about you,” is what I say. Because that’s what you do when you’re in love with someone. “That’s why I came here today.”