‘Are you okay? We’ve been trying to reach you but your PA said you’d gone AWOL in Australia.’
He heard the anxiety in his mother’s voice. She knew that something was wrong. And he couldn’t hold it back—couldn’t think of a way to soften it.
‘I went there to find my birth father. Succeeded.’
There was a moment of silence.
‘Oh, Jack. How did you…? Why didn’t you…?’
He winced, hating hearing her pain. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly.
‘Why?’ his mother asked, her voice rallying. ‘You can’t be sorry. If we’d known we’d have helped you. You should have told—’ She suddenly broke off. ‘Was it okay?’
‘No…’ he murmured, leaning forward to press the heel of his hand to his forehead, hiding his face from the world. ‘It wasn’t. But you knew it wasn’t going to be okay, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, no, Jack,’ his mother whispered. ‘I never wanted it to be like that.’
‘When I was a kid, every time I mentioned him… asked… you changed the subject. You looked worried.’
He felt his anger building over that old sense of powerlessness.
‘I was worried!’ she cried. ‘We didn’t know anything much. And for a long time I was terrified he’d turn up and try to take you away from us. I never wanted to lose you. But I never wanted to drive you away.’
‘You haven’t, Mom.’ Now he felt even worse.
‘What happened?’
‘He’s a bastard. He doesn’t want to know me. Never did. He asked her to get rid of me.’
‘Oh, Jack. Your mother was strong. So strong to get away from all that. But in the end she felt she couldn’t cope alone. She knew we loved you. That we could give you everything she didn’t think she could. But all her love was for you, Jack. She adored you. And she tried so hard to keep you herself.’
He knew that. In his head he understood. But somehow it still hurt. Why couldn’t she have fought harder for him? Why couldn’t she have straightened herself out and been stronger?
And as for Darren Thompson…? That bruise was too fresh. Too raw.
‘Jack?’ His father had come on the line. ‘Son, where are you? We’ll come get you. I always suspected…’ His father broke off.
‘You never asked about him,’ his mother said sadly. ‘You hadn’t in so long. I thought you were at peace with it. I didn’t think it bothered you,’ his mother said. ‘But of course it bothered you.’
He’d not asked because he’d seen their reticence. Their anxiety. But now he realised they’d never spoken of it because he’d stopped asking. He’d been the one holding back. And then he hadn’t told them he was looking because he hadn’t wanted to hurt them.
He’d been so afraid—on so many levels.
‘Jack?’
‘I’m okay. Don’t worry.’
Stupid words. He knew his parents were beside themselves right now.
He managed a lame little laugh. ‘I’m okay—honest.’
‘When are you coming home?’ That was his mother again.
‘Soon,’ he promised. ‘I’ll call again soon, okay?’
He rang off before they could talk more. Because suddenly he’d realised where he’d gone wrong and he needed time to think.
He’d thought having the answers would make his life complete. Would fill that empty little pocket in his heart. Only now that pocket somehow seemed bigger. And it hurt more than it ever had before.
He’d not asked them, not told them how he felt—what he needed to know and why. He’d buried himself in work and closed his worries off from them. Because he’d been stupidly scared. Of their reaction. Really of everything. He’d never realised he was such a coward.
His phone buzzed in his hand and he swiped the screen and held it up to his ear with a wry grin. ‘Hey, George.’
‘How’s your trip panning out?’
Jack knew his mother had called George the second she’d got off the phone to him. The Wolfe clan was rallying. And he loved them for it. Even if talking about it was half killing him.
‘It’s been… big,’ he muttered.
‘You need company?’
‘No. I’m okay for now. I’ll call you when I get to Manhattan.’
Jack glanced down at the tablet on his lap, still on ‘The List’, and with Steffi Leigh’s smiling avatar in the corner. He clicked on the archive and watched her very first vlog. So Steffi, and yet so different. So young—and that giggle…
It tugged his heart.