Chapter 36
Chapter
Thirty-Six
MAX
The house is silent when I step through the door, the quiet pressing against my chest like a warning. The stillness unnerves me.
This is what it will be like when Amelia is gone for good.
It’s just past six. I went out to have a drink with a business associate who had flown in from Japan for the express purpose of meeting with me, so I couldn’t cancel on him.
I clutch the bag of Chinese takeout, the scent of soy sauce and Jason’s favorite, sweet and sour chicken, wafts up into my nostrils.
My shoes echo on the hardwood as I walk up the stairs, drawn to the studio, a pull I can’t explain but feel in my bones.
The door’s ajar, golden light spilling out, and I push it open, and my breathing deepens at the sight before me.
The sight stops my heart, a fierce swell of love so intense it hurts.
I watch it as if I have come upon the cup of plenty.
There is no more after this. This is it. This is what men died for.
Amelia and Jason are lying on the rug, curled together, asleep, surrounded by a chaos of pencils, paint tubes, crayons, and the leftovers of their lunch. Paint smudges Amelia’s cheek, a streak of emerald green, and Jason’s small hand clutches a crayon, his dark curls fanned out on her arm.
On the easel, Amelia’s dragon glows—emerald scales shimmering, wings spread wide, eyes fierce with life.
It’s breathtaking, a masterpiece that pulses with her soul, her fire.
Beside it, on the floor, Jason’s crayon drawings mimic her work—childish but bold, dragons in red and blue, their lines wobbly but proud.
Pride and awe mix with a desperate ache. How the fuck can she be my half-sister? The thought hits hard, a question I’ve wrestled with for years, because this love, this need, feels too raw, too real for blood to define. At this point, do I even care? I don’t know anymore.
I set the takeout bag on the table and kneel beside them, my hand hovering over Amelia’s hair, blonde strands tangled with Jason’s curls.
My chest tightens, love and guilt colliding.
In all my years with Sara, I’ve never rushed to come home, never felt this pull to be here.
Every moment away from Amelia feels like torture, a theft of time I can’t get back.
I find it impossible to wake them up. I just watch them, my heart swelling, the quiet rhythm of their breaths grounding me, until my presence is sensed.
Amelia stirs, her eyes fluttering open, green and hazy.
She sees me, and a slow smile spreads over her lips.
It is warm and radiant. She is my whole world, and I’m her whole world.
Love floods me, and I lean in, and kiss her softly, my lips brushing hers, tasting her sweetness.
“You’re home,” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep, her warm hand reaching for mine.
The touch sparks through me, and just like that, I want to take her and carry her away and make love to her until she screams, but my eyes flick to Jason, still asleep, a green crayon loosely held in his grip.
“I brought dinner,” I say, voice rough, nodding at the bag. “Chinese. I thought we could eat together.”
“Here?” she asks, voice teasing, sitting up, careful not to wake Jason. “Not downstairs?”
“Here feels right,” I say, grinning, my hand still in hers, thumb brushing her knuckles.
“This place—it’s yours, it’s ours.” Her eyes soften, and she nods, rising to unpack the food.
The scent of fried rice and sesame chicken soon fills the room, mingling with the turpentine, and we set out plates, the clink of ceramic soft in the quiet.
Jason stirs eventually, then comes awake, his gray eyes—my eyes—bright with surprise.
“Daddy!” he says, scrambling up. “You’re home early!
” His excitement hits me, a warmth I haven’t felt from him in years.
Unable to help myself, I pull him into a big bear hug.
I suddenly realize as I hold his small, warm body that we haven’t hugged in ages.
Why? Because I’ve been too busy? Only seeing him over the dining table?
With great regret and sadness, I grasp that unconsciously, over time, I have slowly left almost all the parenting to Sara.
“I couldn’t stay away,” I say, voice low, meeting Amelia’s eyes over his head.
She smiles. “Let me go get some plates, chopsticks, and forks from the kitchen.”
“I’ll help,” Jason offers eagerly.
I watch the two of them leave the room. How close they have become in such a short time.
When they come back, Amelia hands out the plates, and we sit on the rug, cross-legged, the takeout spread out like a picnic.
Jason digs into the rice. His awkward handling of his chopsticks makes Amelia laugh.
She reaches out to help him. Her fingers are deft and gentle, but skilled.
She seems so natural with him, so loving.
We talk, easy, natural—Jason about his dragon drawing, Amelia about the painting, me about my meeting that went better than I expected.
I recount the funny Japanese joke about the cat and the cow that my business associate told me.
They both laugh, and their laughter is bright and unguarded, and it fills the studio.
Once again, I take it all in and I’m struck by how right this feels, how alive I am with them.
Amelia draws my attention to Jason’s drawings.
“These dragons are amazing, buddy,” I say, nodding at Jason’s drawings, my voice warm with pride. “You’re really good.”
“Aunt Amelia taught me,” he says, beaming, rice sticking to his cheek. I reach out and do what I never do. I wipe away the grain of rice.
He grins at me.
“Well, she did great because you’re showing so much promise," I say.
"Thank you, Daddy," He beams with pleasure.
“You’re a great teacher,” I murmur, turning my gaze to Amelia, and she blushes, her smile shy but radiant. When we finish eating, the plates are pushed aside, and Jason turns to me. “What shall we do now, Daddy?”
I glance at Amelia, a spark of an idea hitting me. “How about ice cream?” My voice is light, but my heart is full of happiness. “Let’s go to the town center, to Parsons night market, and get some ice cream.”
Jason’s eyes immediately light up, and he bounces to his feet. “Yes! Yes! Let’s get ice cream. Can I get chocolate with lots and lots of nuts on it?”
I laugh. “Tonight, you can have anything you want.”
Amelia stands and brushes crumbs from her jeans. “Sounds perfect,” she says with a smile. Her voice is warm, but there’s a flicker in her eyes, a shadow, a sadness. And I know exactly what that is about. Soon, this will all end for us.
We clean up properly then, taking the dishes down to the kitchen, and then we take a few minutes to get ready before heading out in the SUV.
The town center is alive with noise and activity when we arrive. Jason skips ahead, humming a tune, his sneakers flashing lights, his favorite stuffed dog tucked under his arm.
The crowd is full of families, couples, and kids darting through arcade games and food stalls. Jason’s joy is electric, his laughter loud as he jumps, pointing at a balloon vendor. I’m stunned, watching him, my shy, quiet son transformed, bubbling with life.
“Want a balloon?”
“Yup. I do.”
I buy him a large dog balloon, and we carry on walking towards the ice cream vendor.
Amelia walks beside me, her arm brushing mine, her floral sundress swaying, and I’m struck again by how she does this—brings color, life, to everything.
“It’s lovely to see him so happy,” Amelia notes as we watch Jason dart to the ice cream stand. His voice is excited as he orders chocolate with sprinkles and loads of nuts. “So bubbly and talkative. I’ve never seen him like this.”
I nod, observing the same as I watch him laugh with the vendor. His face is so animated and happy.
“I agree,” I say reflectively. “He’s always been quiet, timid. Maybe Sara is stricter with him, you know? As his mom, she’s got rules and a structure that he has to follow.”
My words hang between us. It’s a truth I haven’t voiced before but now that I have said it, I realize how blind I have been. I glance at Amelia, her eyes thoughtful. I left it all to Sara, and she decided what was best for Jason.
“Maybe,” Amelia murmurs, her hand brushing mine.
It’s a fleeting touch that sparks immense regret in me.
“He’s happy with us,” she says. Her tone is gentle, but there is a truth that hits hard. Jason is happy because he is with us. I nod in agreement.
We all get our ice cream—mint chip for me, pistachio for Amelia—and then we sit on a bench to enjoy it. The night is warm, the crowd a lively hum around us. Jason licks his cone, sprinkles falling, and I make a big promise.
I won’t be an absent dad anymore. Never again.