Page 99 of My Destiny

“Rightly so. I’m a stranger to her, but hopefully she’ll allow me in so I can at least rectify that.”

“I can’t answer that, but please give her some time. She’s been through enough.”

“I understand. The last thing I want to do is hurt her any more than I have.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Have you met her?”

“Who?”

“Maree, Brooke’s mother?”

“No. She passed when Brooke was still in college. You didn’t know that?”

The moment I see all the colour drain from his face, I know he didn’t. “No. No, I didn’t.”

I feel like a prick for just blurting it out like that. He turns his face away from me, towards the wall, and when I see him wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, I feel even shittier.

“I’m sorry.” I wait for him to say something, but he remains silent. “Would you like me to leave, so you can be alone?”

“Please.” I don’t miss the crack in his voice as he speaks.

Standing, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I’ll call you later.” I briefly place my hand on his arm. I came here in the hope of cheering him up, but have failed miserably. He nods before rolling onto his side. I turn to leave, but when I reach the doorway, I hear a strangled sob escape him. I pause for a moment, because I feel torn. “Are you sure you want me to go?” I ask, eyeing him over my shoulder. When he nods again, I begrudgingly walk away.

“Are you okay?” Brooke asks, reaching across the centre console and placing her hand on my leg.

“Yes,” I lie, as my eyes briefly leave the road to focus on her. “Why?”

She shrugs. “You’re just quiet. You seem off.”

“I’m fine.” I remove one of my hands from the steering wheel and place it on top of hers.

“Was your uncle okay when you went to visit him?”

I let out a long breath. “He’s doing much better. They’ve moved him out of ICU and into a normal ward.”

“That’s good.”

“How about I take you somewhere nice for lunch?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“I’d like that. Maybe we could go back to that revolving restaurant at the top of CentrePoint Tower. That’s if you want to, of course. I’m happy to go anywhere.”

“Sure.” Putting the indicator on, I turn and head in that direction. “I promised to take you back there anyway.”

We’re both silent as we come to a stop at a set of traffic lights. My thoughts are still on my uncle. I feel awful for leaving him. I should’ve stayed.

As I wait for the green light, I spot a large poster taped around a pole:World Famous Russian Ballet Company World Tour—Sydney Opera House.My gaze moves to Brooke, but she’s looking out her window at the people passing. Hopefully I can get tickets. I bet she’d love to see that.

I drive into the underground parking close to Pitt Street Mall. “I’ve just got to send a quick text,” I say once I’m parked.

Claire, can you see if you can get two tickets to the Russian Ballet that’s performing at the Opera House?

By the time I exit the car, she replies.

Sure, any particular seats?

I quickly respond.