“I know you don’t like that I had to bring him here, Gabe, but I couldn’t leave him behind.”

Gabe strokes Rian’s cheek gently. “I know, Aaliya. We have to tell him. I just hope that Damien understands.”

I leave a soft light on in the room and we retire to the living room. Both Gabe and Jonathan have been a big help to me. They fetched me from the airport yesterday and have taken turns to be with us most of today. Rian’s been quite jet lagged and cranky and a lot of the day has gone by in getting him settled. Gabe insisted that we take him out to play for a bit to tire him so he could sleep early.

I run a weary hand down my face as I stare at my unfinished plate of the take out meal I ordered for the three of us. How am I going to break it to Damien that I’m his wife and that we have a son? Will he believe me? God! What if he doesn’t?

I swallow against the lump in my throat and push my plate away. Jonathan gives me an understanding look from across the table and without saying a word, takes my plate and heads to the kitchen. Gabe follows him and I hear the water run and the sound of dishes as the boys clear up. Unable to sit, I frantically pace the living room, walking up and down the narrow space, my mind visualizing various conversations with Damien and the numerous possible outcomes.

“Relax, Aaliya.” Gabe’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “We will make it work. We will make him understand.”

“This is all so fucked up!” Jonathan perches on the sofa opposite me. “Gabe, she should have told him long back. It was wrong to keep this from him.”

“I thought I already explained my reasons to you,” Gabe storms, walking up to him.

Jonathan stands to face him and points a finger in his face. “And I told you then also that it’s fucked up!”

Gabe narrows his eyes “Don’t be a dick, Jonathan.”

They start arguing back and forth, hurling abuses at one another, making my head spin.

The two of them are like the devil and the angel on each of my shoulders. I have had this conversation of telling Damien versus not telling Damien in my head so many times and now it’s all too late to do anything.

Finally, I’ve had enough of their bickering.

“Stop it, both of you,” I say loudly, giving them each a sharp look. “It’s too late now to fight on this. What’s done is done.”

Jonathan shakes his head. “Fine. I don’t need to like it though. I’m going to get something to drink.” He marches towards the kitchen, sulking with each step that he takes.