Chapter 52
KAI
As I ran my hands through my hair in the car on my driveway, Rachel’s words taunted me.
If there’s anything he wanted you to know, he would have told you already.
I stared at the steering wheel like it might give me answers.
Was it that nothing was going on and my mind was just overdoing it as usual?
Or was it that something was going on… and he just hadn’t told me?
And the way she’d said it - he does this sometimes, disappears - like it was the most normal thing in the world.
But had he disappeared?
Because he’d spoken to Rachel. He’d answered her calls. He hadn’t pushed her away.
So why wasn’t he talking to me?
Why had he left my messages on read?
The thought made my head hurt. Because it wasn’t just silence - it was selective silence. He wasn’t shutting out the world. He was shutting out me .
I leaned back in the seat, exhaling hard, the air feeling too thick in my chest.
Was I imagining things?
Was I being dramatic?
Was I reading into something that wasn’t there?
Or was I finally seeing the truth?
Maybe he didn’t want me involved. Maybe he didn’t trust me. Maybe he didn’t like me the way I liked him - not even close.
Maybe I’d pushed too hard. Or not enough. Or in the wrong direction entirely.
I didn’t know.
All I knew was that the silence hurt more than it should have.
More than I wanted to admit.
And the worst part?
I still couldn’t stop worrying about him.
I sighed as I stepped out of the car, rubbing a hand over my face, my head still full of Rachel’s words, looping like a song I couldn’t shut off.
If there’s anything he wanted you to know, he would have told you already.
I hated how much that stung.
But the second I looked up, all of that fell away.
There was a car in the driveway, one I didn’t recognise.
The moment made me freeze, keys dangling from my fingers. I’d been so wrapped up in my own thoughts - wrapped up in Alex - I hadn’t even noticed it when I pulled in.
My mind flicked through possibilities as I walked over, peering through the driver’s side window like a nosy neighbour. Nothing inside gave me any clues - no jacket, no bag, no takeaway cup with a name on it.
But someone was in the house, someone I wasn’t expecting.
I tried to shake off the weird feeling crawling up my spine.
It was probably nothing. Probably one of Mum’s friends.
Someone from work. Or maybe Aunt Jan had finally upgraded her ancient little hatchback - she was Mum’s best friend and basically family, always around, always letting herself in like she lived here.
As I opened the door, I noticed a pair of shoes on the mat. They were the smart kind. Loafers. And definitely not Aunt Jan’s.
I froze mid-step, my hand still on the doorknob as I stared at them. The leather was polished, the kind of expensive shine you only get from someone who actually cares about that sort of thing.
There was a man in the house.
The thought made me almost hyperaware, shoulders tensing, breath catching as I slowly stepped inside, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
Mum had never brought a man home before. I didn’t even think she was dating.
I’d encouraged it sometimes - when she’d say she was lonely, or that she missed having someone around in that way. But she always chickened out. Always said no one could replace Dad. And while that was true, I didn’t want her to be alone forever.
“Mum?” I called out as I rounded the archway into the kitchen.
There were voices - muffled, low - coming from the conservatory. I followed them, my pulse picking up for reasons I couldn’t name.
Mum’s eyes went wide when she saw me, and she glanced at her watch like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
She was sitting with a man in a very nice grey suit. Brown hair, gelled neatly. Yellow tie. Looked to be late twenties, maybe early thirties. He straightened a little when I walked in, suddenly awkward.
“Oh, Kai,” she said quickly, sitting up a little too fast. “We’ve lost track of time.” She smoothed her skirt with one hand, the other hovering awkwardly near her glass.
“What’s going on?” I asked slowly, my eyes flicking between them as I stepped further into the room, trying to make sense of everything.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way.” She pressed her lips together, fingers twisting around each other.
“Find out what?” I questioned, my brows pulling together as I shifted my weight, the air suddenly feeling too thick.
“Oh, I guess you were going to find out eventually, right?” She looked over at the gentleman beside her, who straightened his tie and offered a stiff, uncomfortable smile.
“This is Cameron… from Eastern Estates,” she said, gesturing toward him with a small, nervous wave.
“The real estate company?” I said, confusion pulling tighter on my face as my gaze snapped to him.
Mum nodded, her shoulders lifting in a tiny, guilty shrug.
“Why?” I asked, taking a step closer, my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
“I’m selling the house.” She said it quietly, her hands clasping together like she was bracing for impact.
“What!?” The word burst out of me as I took a half-step back, my fingers curling into my palms as if I needed something to hold onto. My brain scrambled, trying to catch up, trying to make the pieces fit.
Selling the house.
Our house.
The house that Dad had built for us.
“When were you going to tell me?” I said, my voice low as I stepped further into the room, my temperature spiking.
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” she replied, her tone defensive as she glanced at Cameron. She stood quickly, smoothing her blouse. “Thanks for stopping by,” she added, guiding him toward the hallway with a polite but urgent hand on his arm.
“I’ll email you,” he said, giving me an awkward nod before slipping past me and leaving quickly, the front door clicking shut behind him.
Mum exhaled shakily, then moved into the kitchen. She put the kettle on with a clatter and ran her fingers through her hair, pacing once before leaning on the counter.
I followed her, planting my hands on the island and leaning over it, trying to catch her eye, though she failed to look at me.
“Mum,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “You can’t sell the house.” My fingers drummed anxiously against the marble.
“Oh, honey, don’t be like that.” She brushed me off, waving a hand dismissively as she reached for two mugs. “What do we need a big house like this for. It’s only us.” She opened a cupboard, her movements sharp. “And you’re going off to an academy next year.”
“That’s not the point.” I shook my head, pushing off the island as frustration tightened my chest. “Don’t you like it here?”
I hated how much my voice wavered.
“Of course I like it here,” she said, turning toward the kettle as it clicked on, her hands fussing with the mugs she’d set out. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t like it somewhere else.” She lifted one shoulder in a small, brittle shrug, avoiding my eyes as she reached for the teabags.
“But Dad designed this house. Forever home . That’s what he called it.” I pushed off the island, taking a step toward her, my chest tightening. “You can’t sell it.”
“But your dad’s not here, is he!” she shouted, spinning around so fast her mug nearly slipped from her hand. Her voice cracked on the last word, and she pressed her lips together before turning away, putting her head in her hands as her shoulders shook once.
I froze, the air knocked out of me. My jaw relaxed as I watched her, the anger draining into something heavier, something that sat low in my stomach.
“We can’t afford to keep this house.” She shook her head in an almost whisper. “We can’t do it, Kai.”
I let out a sigh and walked around the counter, putting an arm around her. “What about the money Dad left us?”
“It’s near enough gone.” She kept her eyes on the kettle, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter as if bracing herself.
“What about my inheritance?” I said, stepping closer, my voice rising with desperation. “Just hold off until then. And when I’m eighteen, I’ll pay for the house.” I gestured toward the conservatory, toward everything Dad had built, like pointing at it might make her understand.
“No, Kai,” Mum sighed, tears gathering in her eyes as she turned to face me. “I can’t ask you to do that.” She wiped at her cheek quickly, as if embarrassed to be crying.
“You’re not asking. I want to, Mum.” I placed a hand on her arm, trying to steady both of us.
“No,” she shook her head firmly, stepping back and putting a little distance between us. “It’s not happening. That money’s for you. So you can live your life. Go travelling, have something to fall back on.” She reached for her mug, her hands trembling slightly as she set it down.
I shook my head, frustration tightening my chest. “I don’t want to do any of that. Just let me use it.” I ran a hand through my hair, pacing once across the kitchen tiles.
“No,” Mum said it with a finality that made me stop in my tracks. “I don’t want that. And your dad wouldn’t either.” She pressed her lips together, her shoulders lifting as she tried to steady her breathing.
“There must be something we can do,” I sighed, leaning both hands on the island as if it could hold me up.
“There’s not, honey,” she said softly, stepping closer and brushing her hand down my arm. “We have to do this.” Her voice wavered, but her resolve didn’t.
“Just let me think,” I said, pulling away gently. “Don’t do anything yet.” I looked at her, needing her to see how serious I was. “Promise me you won’t do anything yet.”
She held my gaze for a long moment, her eyes shining, and then she let out a long, tired sigh and nodded - small, silent, but enough.
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, my hand resting briefly on her shoulder before I turned away.
“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice small behind me.
“To think,” I shouted back as I closed the door behind me, the slam echoing through the hallway. Only when the wind hit my face did my shoulders finally drop, the cold air cutting through the heat in my chest.
I sat in the car and dialled a number, my knee bouncing uncontrollably as the phone rang.
“Yo,” Callum’s voice echoed in my ear, loud and familiar.
“Has Johnson still got those fake IDs?” I asked quickly, gripping the steering wheel with my free hand.
“Let me make a couple calls,” he said cheerily, like I’d just asked him if he wanted a takeaway. He hung up before I could say anything else.
I stared at my phone, the screen going dark in my hand. I didn’t know what I was doing. Not really.
But it felt better than sitting there stewing over Alex. Stewing over my house. Stewing over everything I couldn’t fix.
I needed a distraction. Something stupid. Something reckless. Something that wasn’t thinking about him or Mum or the fact that my whole life felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
And Callum…
Callum was good at those.