Page 110 of Praising Haru

Haru waves his hands. “My situation is different. My parents are white. I’ve always known they weren’t my birth parents.”

“I see.” Mum stares at me. “I’m sorry. As your dad said, you were our son. There was never a good time to tell you, and part of me was scared that you’d try to find your birth family. That you would find them and then forget about us.”

“Oh, Mum.” I hug her. “That would never have happened. I love you.”

“Love isn’t always rational,” Dad says. “You’d do well to remember that while setting six-month time limits and whatnot.”

“Are you saying Kyle should throw caution to the wind and move to London with Haru now?” Mum’s voice is strangled.

“I’m not saying that at all.”

Mum doesn’t look convinced.

“I’ve sidetracked us,” Dad says. “We’re sorry for not telling you sooner, and above all else, I’m sorry you found out the way you did. I was damn proud of you when you offered to give me one of your kidneys.”

“You got the transplant, and you’re healthy now. That’s all that matters. Not who gave it to you.”

Dad smiles and gestures to me. “Kyle’s a good ’un, Haru. Don’t let him go.”

“I don’t intend to.” Haru caresses my knee.

“I’m not going to let you go either.” I kiss his forehead and then clear my throat. “How many more photos are you going to show him?”

“Oh, at least two more albums worth,” Dad says.

Mum rolls her eyes. “Just a few more.”

* * *

We leave early evening and go back to mine. I make good on my word of pampering Haru, worshipping his body with gentle caresses and tender kisses.

The next morning, I get him up and out of bed early enough to take a leisurely shower together before accompanying him to the train station. We embrace as we wait for the platform to be announced for his train.

“Good luck, gorgeous. Not that you’ll need it. Both companies will love you.”

“Thank you.” He pushes against me.

“I’ll meet you here tonight.”

“You don’t have to.”

I kiss him. “I want to, beautiful, and I don’t care how needy that sounds.”

“Nor do I, because I’m feeling needy too.” He clings on to me tighter.

“Needy is sexy.”

He laughs. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He tenses as his platform is called.

“Text me after each interview to let me know how they went.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll see you soon, baby.”