Instead of taking his hand, she folded her arms across her chest. ‘How can you possibly know that it doesn’t?’

‘I know I love you, and you love me. Isn’t that all that matters?’

‘No, not in this case.’ She looked away, unable to bear seeing the hurt in his eyes when she told him the truth. ‘I led you to believe I had the child after my mother died, but I didn’t, I had him long before that.’ The chair rattled as she got to her feet. ‘Hang on a sec,’ she said and left him to run upstairs.

When she came down, she had a box in her hand. ‘The father of my child bought me these when I told him I was pregnant,’ she said, opening the box. ‘They were all he could afford to buy me.’ The shoes sat in the palm of her hand. ‘The baby never got to wear them.’

Flynn reached for one of them. He took it and examined it, the shoe tiny in his big hands. ‘So little,’ he said, looking up at her with a smile. ‘You gave him up for adoption, why didn’t you put them on so he’d have something of yours?’

‘Because I wasn’t allowed to see him.’ She took the shoe back and put both back into the lined box. ‘I was fourteen when I had the baby, Flynn.’ She shut the box and held it to her chest. ‘I’m old enough to be your mother.’

‘But you’re not!’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Your son is living abroad, I’m here.’

‘I know. But his being in Australia has nothing to do with anything.’

‘Australia?’

Jodie rubbed her eyes, suddenly so very weary, and it was a few seconds before she noticed Flynn’s suddenly arrested expression. It was the first test of their relationship, she wondered if they’d make it. She linked her hands over her still flat belly, glad she hadn’t told him. Whether they stayed together or broke up, nothing was going to interfere with their child.

Flynn stood and took a few steps away before turning to look back at her. She’d never seen him look so serious and felt her heart break. ‘You’re thinking of the reality of that fourteen-year age difference, aren’t you? When you’re thirty, I’ll be forty-four, when–’

He held his hand up, stopping her. ‘I can do the maths, Jodie, that isn’t what’s worrying me.’

But he didn’t seem to be able to find the words to explain what was, his face turning ghostly pale in the light that filtered through from outside.

‘Sit down, before you fall down, and tell me,’ Jodie said. It was better to know, better to feel the pain in one blow.