Chapter 37 - The Afternoon He Came
1795 Words
Three years later, Mallorca was home. Not our only home. Adrian's work still took us between countries, and I returned to the Philippines whenever Mum or the family needed me. But Mallorca had become the place where Noah kept most of his things. Where I knew the shopkeepers. Where mornings smelled like coffee, warm stone and salt from the sea.
Noah was eleven now. Too old to be treated like a child, according to him. Still absolutely a child, according to me.
That morning, he was standing in the kitchen wearing one shoe.
“Where's the other one?”
“I don't know.”
“How do you lose one shoe?”
“I didn't lose it.”
“Then where is it?”
He shrugged.
Adrian looked up from his laptop. “Interesting.”
I pointed at him. “Don't encourage him.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You said interesting.”
“Yes.”
“That means you think this is stupid.”
Noah grinned.
I looked between them. Years of living together had created an alliance I deeply regretted.
“Find the shoe.”
Noah disappeared.
Adrian closed his laptop. “You know he gets this from you.”
“I have never lost one shoe.”
“You lose your phone while holding it.”
“That happened once.”
“Yesterday.”
I ignored him.
He smiled.
Even after all these years, there were mornings when I looked at Adrian and was surprised by how ordinary love could become without becoming smaller.
Coffee. Work. School. Missing shoes. Noah running through the house while Adrian complained that someone had moved his documents.
It wasn't the life I'd imagined at eighteen.
But it was ours.
Adrian had meetings in Madrid that day and would return in the evening. Noah hated when he traveled without us.
“You're coming back tonight?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Late.”
“I can stay awake.”
“No.”
“Mom lets me.”
I looked at him.
“No, she doesn't.”
Noah smiled innocently.
Adrian kissed his head, then came toward me.
“Don't let him climb anything.”
“I don't let him climb anything.”
“That has never stopped him.”
“Your son.”
“Our son when he's behaving.”
He kissed me.
“I'll call.”
“You always do.”
He did.
Always.
After he left, Noah eventually found his shoe.
His sunglasses disappeared instead.
By noon, he announced that he was going toward the water.
“No.”
“I'll stay close.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“Noah.”
“Ten minutes.”
“No.”
“Five.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Blue eyes.
Stubborn expression.
Damian.
Sometimes it still happened like that. A look or a movement, and for half a second the years disappeared.
Noah had been asking more questions about Damian recently.
Small ones.
What had he been like at school?
Did he like football?
Had his hair always been blond?
Was his temper really that bad?
That last one had made Adrian laugh for almost a full minute.
I answered what I could.
The truth belonged to Noah.
He could approach it at his own pace.
“Fine,” I said. “Stay away from the edge.”
“I know.”
“Take your phone.”
“I know.”
“And answer when I call.”
“Yes, Mom.”
He disappeared down the path.
I watched until he was gone.
For years, that path had simply led to the water.
Recently, it led somewhere else too.
To a house that hadn't belonged to anyone important to us until a few weeks ago.
The new owners hadn't moved in properly yet.
But two women had been there often.
Maxime.
And Chloe.
Even thinking their names still felt strange.
The first time I'd seen Maxime, I'd almost dropped the coffee in my hand.
Twelve years disappeared in one second.
She recognized me too.
Neither of us had been prepared.
Then she'd seen Noah.
After that, everything became much more complicated.
Chloe came later.
Older.
Different.
No longer the woman I'd remembered from Damian's frightened calls all those years ago.
We had talked.
More than once.
Some conversations had been painful.
Others surprisingly easy.
And both women knew now.
About Noah.
About Damian.
About everything.
They had promised me they wouldn't tell him yet.
Not because I wanted to keep Noah from his father forever.
I didn't.
But Noah knew who Damian was.
And for the first time, the decision wasn't only mine.
He deserved time.
Maxime hadn't liked it.
“He's my son.”
“And Noah is mine.”
“He has a right to know.”
“So does Noah.”
She'd gone quiet after that.
Eventually, she'd agreed.
Chloe had understood more quickly.
Perhaps because she knew what it felt like when adults made decisions around you and called it protection.
Or perhaps because part of her still carried guilt for what had happened twelve years ago.
I never asked.
Not yet.
My phone rang.
Adrian.
“Hey, love.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Noah?”
“Near the water.”
Silence.
“Rose.”
“He's fine.”
“You told him not to go.”
“He negotiated.”
“He's eleven.”
“You've met him.”
Adrian laughed.
Then his voice shifted.
“Did you hear about the neighboring property?”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
“Apparently everything is finalized now.”
“Okay.”
“You still don't care who bought it?”
“Should I?”
“I find your lack of curiosity disturbing.”
“I already met the people staying there.”
“You did?”
“Two women.”
“Owners?”
“I don't think so.”
I hesitated.
I still hadn't told Adrian their names.
Not because I wanted to hide it.
Because saying it aloud somehow made everything more real.
“Do you know them?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“Rose?”
“I'll tell you tonight.”
That silenced him.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“That's not convincing.”
“Nothing is wrong.”
Another pause.
“Fine. Tonight.”
“Bring dinner.”
“You're changing the subject.”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
“I'll consider loving you when I see the food.”
“Cruel woman.”
“You married me.”
“Best decision I ever made.”
I smiled.
“Bye.”
The call ended.
I stood still for a moment.
I should have told him.
Maxime.
Chloe.
Two names.
But Adrian knew enough about my past to understand what those names meant.
Tonight.
I'd tell him tonight.
“Noah!”
No answer.
I started down the path.
“Noah!”
“Mom!”
“I heard you!”
The afternoon was warm, the sea almost painfully blue. Wind pushed my hair across my face, and I tucked it behind my ear as I walked.
Somewhere behind me, footsteps stopped.
I didn't hear them.
I didn't know anyone was watching.
“Noah!”
“I'm here!”
He was farther ahead near the rocks.
Exactly where I'd told him not to stand.
Of course.
“Move away from the edge.”
“I'm not near it.”
“You are literally beside it.”
“There's like a meter.”
“Exactly.”
He laughed.
I walked toward him.
Behind me, someone took another step.
Then stopped.
Noah looked past me.
“What?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“I thought someone was there.”
I turned.
The path looked empty.
Trees.
Stone.
Sunlight.
Nothing else.
Still, something moved through me.
A feeling I couldn't explain.
Familiar.
Gone before I could catch it.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
“Can we swim first?”
“No.”
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“Three.”
“You sound like Adrian.”
“Is that a yes?”
I took his hand.
“No.”
He groaned.
We started walking.
After a few steps, Noah looked at me.
“What was Damian like when he was my age?”
I glanced at him.
“Why?”
“You said I have his temper.”
“You do.”
“I don't.”
I laughed. “You do.”
“What else?”
I thought about it.
“Your eyes.”
“I know.”
“His hair was even lighter than yours when he was little.”
“Really?”
“Almost white.”
“Was he annoying?”
“Extremely.”
“Like me?”
“Worse.”
“Impossible.”
I smiled.
“He loved his sister very much.”
“Chloe.”
“Yes.”
Noah had met her now.
That still felt impossible too.
“And Maxime.”
“Yes.”
He knew her as well.
Neither of them had told him what to call them.
That was something we hadn't figured out yet.
Grandmother.
Aunt.
Those words carried more weight when the person connecting them didn't know you existed.
“And he loved you?” Noah asked.
My steps slowed.
“Yes.”
“A lot?”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
Noah nodded and kept walking.
I looked back once.
Nobody was there.
At least nobody I could see.
What I didn't know was that Damian had already recognized me.
What I didn't know was that he was close enough to hear Noah's voice, but not close enough to see his face.
And I had no idea that minutes later he would walk into the house he'd bought for his mother and sister and say my name.
Maxime would freeze.
Chloe would freeze.
And Damian would misunderstand why.
He would think their silence meant only one thing.
That they knew I was here.
He wouldn't know they had met his son.
He wouldn't know Maxime had looked into Noah's blue eyes and understood before I'd even answered her question.
He wouldn't know Chloe had sat across from the child whose life had begun while her brother was sitting beside her hospital bed.
He wouldn't know they'd promised me to give Noah time.
Not forever.
Just time.
Damian had spent twelve years not knowing he was a father.
That afternoon, the truth was finally close enough to touch him.
But when he looked at his mother and sister and said,
“You knew.”
He was still asking the wrong question.
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