“Need a hand?”
She startled, but there was no fear. She would know Ra’if’s voice anywhere.
She turned slowly, taking a moment to school her features into an expression of disinterest. But she was wary.
“What are you doing here?”
He cut to the chase immediately, knowing that seconds mattered. “I should have told you,” he said. “I want to tell you everything now. May I come up?”
She shook her head, her eyes shooting fierce fury. “No.”
“Just for long enough to explain. If you want me to leave afterwards, I will.”
“There is no explanation for what you did,” she said angrily. Jordan shifted in her arms and she swore softly under her breath. “Go away.” She moved up the steps, jamming her key in angrily. She dropped them to the ground and Ra’if was there, scooping them up and placing them in the lock.
“Please,” he said quietly, his eyes holding to hers. “Just a moment.”
Her heart stitched painfully.
“Ra’if?” Jordan’s groggy voice dragged Melinda’s eyes downward, and the sight of her son reaching a hand out for Ra’if was like a hammer being drummed into her side.
Ra’if took him instinctively; and she let him. Wasn’t it her first concern that Jordan not be affected by her bad choices?
And letting Ra’if into her life had been a very bad choice.
“Five minutes,” she said through gritted teeth, pushing the door in and holding it open for him and Jordan to push through.
He took the stairs easily, leaving her to walk in his wake. He stopped just outside her flat and waited while she unlocked the door. He took Jordan into his bedroom and settled him; Melinda watched.
“Will you be here in the morning?” Jordan asked, the words coated in sleepiness.
“I’ll make sure there’s something under the tree for you,” he said simply, ambivalently, wisely side-stepping the boy’s request.
“Night Night,” Jordan said, rolling onto his side, his soft snore making ripples in the palpable tension.
They left the room, Ra’if quietly pulling the door closed behind them. He stood in the lounge, staring at her.
“Ra’if –,”
“I should have –,”
They said in unison.
“Go,” she snapped, moving further away from Jordan’s room, into the kitchen. She flicked the kettle on out of habit.
“How was your Christmas eve?”
“Uh uh,” she shook her head. “I’m not going to do that. I?
??m not going to talk like nothing’s wrong.” She pulled a mug – one, not two, Ra’if noted – from the cupboard and slammed it forcefully onto the bench. “How could you not tell me?”
“I would have,” he said quietly. “I would have. I wanted to, so many times.” He dragged a hand through his hair.
“So why didn’t you?”
A muscle jerked in his cheek. “You look at me as though I am your Knight in Shining Armour. I wondered if the truth would make you hate me.”
She bit back an angry retort – one that would have unfairly agreed with him. “You don’t know how I would have reacted,” she said instead, her words clipped. “You don’t know that I wouldn’t have listened and understood.”