There had been so many times over the last few days when he had wanted to talk to her honestly. To tell her that his feelings had changed. That this relationship was more than just a convenient way for both of them to be a part of Archie’s day-to-day life.
That he loved her.
He felt his heart swell at the thought, and that in itself was a shock. To discover that it was not just there to pump blood around his body, but that it beat faster whenever he saw her, held her, heard her voice.
Resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, he pulled her against him, pressing his lips to her hair, breathing in the scent of her warm, clean skin.
I love you.
It was so easy to say it in his head. Obviously. In his head he could write a script for Dora to follow. But what he ideally wanted her to say and how she would respond in reality were two different things.
And, in reality, she had no reason to love him.
How could any woman—particularly one as vibrant and uninhibited as Dora—love a man who had nudged her into a loveless marriage?
Revealing his feelings would only lead to a dead end and ruin the closeness and understanding they had found.
His chest tightened. It was ironic that telling the truth would make things more strained and artificial between them.
‘The cars are already here,’ she said.
He felt her shift, then turn to face him, her grey eyes soft and clear.
‘We should probably go downstairs.’
He stared down at her mutely. Now was not the time to tell her how everything felt different all of a sudden.
As usual, his father took precedence.
The journey was unusually quiet. Even Archie seemed to pick on the sombreness of the occasion and sat quietly clasping his monkey in his car seat.
The Lao tomb was noticeably larger and more elaborate than the graves surrounding it. Smoke was drifting across the hillside. Nearby he could hear the sound of firecrackers. The authorities had cracked down on the burning of gifts, but people liked their traditions.
Holding Archie’s hand, Charlie swept away the dust and leaves from the tomb. Watching his sisters lay flowers—lilies from Lei, chrysanthemums from Josie and Sabrina—he felt a rush of pity and guilt.
He had been so focused on fulfilling his father’s dying wish that he had completely ignored the needs of the living. All that mattered to him was that his sisters appeared to be coping.
But surely the point of family was that their ties were not just skin-deep?
Wasn’t that what today was about?
Reaching back through generations of family wasn’t just a way to remember the dead—it was a reminder of the importance of the living to one another. And that was why people continued to burn gifts and set off firecrackers. To make connections with their loved ones that outlived the smoke and the sparks.
He felt Dora squeeze his hand. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for coming today, and for letting me bring Archie.’
He could hear the distance in his voice even before he saw the hurt in her eyes. He knew he was being unfair. This whole experience was new and alien to her. But, being here, he could almost sense his father’s presence, and it was more stifling than the incense and the smoke.
‘Let’s go home,’ he said quietly.
Back at the house, the family made their way through the woods to where the cliffs fell away to the ocean. It was a warm day, but there was a strong breeze.
Perfect kite-flying weather.
‘Here.’ He handed Dora a beautiful black-and-yellow kite. ‘Write down everything you fear on the kite. Everything you dread happening. And then, when the kite is flying, cut the string and your fears will float away in the wind.’
His poetic words made her face soften, as he had known they would, and then her eyes met his.