The First Touch of Sunlight

by Len Webster

  Meredith’s hands had settled on his shoulders before she pushed back, rocking her hips and sending that jolt of pleasure up his spine. He was desperate to snap his hips upwards, to find a rhythm of pumping into her and hear her moan for more.

  But right now, it wasn’t about sex.

  She wanted to converse.

  And that, he would give her.

  Sam rolled them over so that she was on her back and reluctantly pulled out of her. Then he lay next to her and watched as she elevated herself on her elbows.

  “Yeah, I’m going,” he answered. “I’m bringing Josh and Beth … You’re okay with Beth?”

  Her lips made a fine line. Then they curved, reaching her eyes. Proving that she was, in fact, okay with Beth. Meredith rolled onto her side and faced him. “She’s your son’s mother. I’m okay with her. I should thank her for approaching me. That was awfully brave of her. Now that I know the truth, I understand.”

  The truth.

  The truth was subjective.

  Depending on the person.

  Meredith thought she knew the truth.

  She knew the basics.

  There was so much more to it.

  She’d barely scratched the surface. Layers and layers of the truth still had to be peeled back in order to be honest with her.

  Sam knew he had to tell her soon.

  But the truth was disgusting.

  Even after seven years, it still was.

  When he really thought about it, it made his stomach churn, and his skin felt as if grime and shame covered it. Sam reached out and brought her closer to him. Meredith curled her body against him and rested the side of her face against his chest. He wondered if she could feel the change in his heartbeats. It made guilty beats. He would tell her soon. He just had to speak to Beth. He wasn’t going to lose Meredith all over again.

  But this secret wasn’t just his.

  It was theirs.

  To: Samuel.Michaels@parliament.vic.gov.au

  From: Gary.Howard@parliament.vic.gov.au

  Subject: Feedback on latest speech.

  Good work, Sam. This is your best speech yet.

  We’ll talk Monday.

  The Hon. Gary Howard MP

  Minister for Roads.

  Sam smiled at the email he’d gotten back from his boss. He’d sent it earlier in the week, but with the Minister doing a lot of community campaigning, he had read it a lot later than expected. Sam had submitted his research findings and analysis, as well as the speech on the importance of cyclist awareness and road safety, weeks before the deadline. Someday, when Sam was ready, he wouldn’t be a speechwriter for the Labor Party. When the opportunity presented itself, and the seat for his district was up for contention, he’d fight for it. He knew he’d have his boss’ support. He had heard whispers that he was Labor’s future. He had been honoured, but he had to stay grounded.

  It wasn’t his time just yet.

  And he was okay with that.

  Sam checked the time on his laptop to see that it was a quarter to five. In half an hour, he’d have to drive down to Beth’s and pick her and their son up for Margot’s birthday party. He wouldn’t miss it for the world. One, Margot would give him an ass kicking. Two, Cooper Hepburn was coming back to Warren Meadows, and Sam hadn’t seen him in years. And three, it was his first social outing with Meredith. They hadn’t put labels on what they were, yet they’d spent almost a week with each other. He’d gone out for a walk with her and Dutch late yesterday. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the border collie until he was reunited with the dog. He hadn’t really seen Meredith’s parents after she left town. Once he had run into Mr Driessen at the shops while Sam was with Josh. His son had been two. Meredith’s father politely said hello and looked down at Josh holding Sam’s hand. There was no resentment. Sam saw a lot of Meredith in her father.

  Tonight, before he left for Margot’s, he would chat with his ex-girlfriend. If anyone needed to know the truth, it was Meredith. Phil was the only other person, but he swore he’d never tell. Sam had been drunk on Meredith’s nineteenth birthday. He had missed her and found himself at the Old Berwick pub. Phil had been the one to take him home, and somewhere between the drive from the pub and his mother’s house, Sam had told him the truth about Beth and him.

  The truth about their son.

  That Josh Michaels didn’t biologically belong to Sam.

  The ringing of his phone caught his eye, and his nostrils flared at the name.

  Bruce.

  Bruce had called him eight times throughout the day. Sam had wanted nothing to do with his father since he walked out. Maybe even earlier. He had always resented his father. He was a useless and careless man. How his mother loved him, he’d never know. She had stayed married to him until she had seen Sam get his high school certificate. The next day, she had seen a divorce lawyer.

  But the divorce was long and lengthy.

  His father owned a construction company.

  They had many assets.

  Their family had many houses.

  There was a lot to split.

  Fed up with his father’s persistence, Sam answered the call and held his phone to his ear.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “To talk, Sammy,” his father slurred.

  He sounded drunk.

  It was no surprise.

  His father was one of two types of drunk: emotional or mean.

  Right now, Sam was blessed with an emotional drunk.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Sam stated with disgust.

  The man sickened him.

  For years, he had been terrified that he’d end up like him.

  He heard a cackle from his father. “But you always have so much to say to everyone else. But they don’t know you, Sammy. They don’t know the truth. I wanna see him. You let your mother see him.”

  “I trust her around my son. You, I don’t trust you.”

  “I made a mistake!” his father yelled.

  Sam shook his head, his left hand balling into a tight fist. “Yeah, and you beat the shit out of me for it. You think I want him anywhere near you? You don’t get to meet him. He is not your grandson. You are nothing to him. You will never mean anything to him. You go near my son, and I will have you arrested.”

  “By who?” Glass shattering screeched in Sam’s ear. “By your damn politician friends? You’re not untouchable, Samuel. You’re not high and mighty. I’m going to take it all from you. You’ll be sorry. I’ll make sure you have nothing. I have a right to see him!”

  “You fucking lost that right a long time ago!” Sam yelled and then hung up on his father. He was tempted to throw his phone against the wall. Every time he spoke to his father, rage consumed him.

  He became a hateful man because of his father.

  Sam took several deep breaths. He had to get ready and kill his awful mood. His son would sense it the minute he walked into Beth’s house. And he didn’t want to worry Meredith when he saw her at the party.

  His good for nothing father would never have anything to do with his life.

  He’d make sure of it.

  When Beth had moved out of her parents’ house and into her own, she had given Sam a key. After Josh was born, she completed her degree, and she was a publicist for James Publishing in the city. Sam had attended her graduation with Josh in his arms, hollering Beth’s name as she had walked across the stage to receive her bachelor. He was proud of her. She had made many sacrifices for Josh. She might always feel guilty about cheating on Sam, but it hadn’t hurt as much as it should have. He was never in love with Beth. He loved her, but that love developed into a different kind after their son was born.

  On his key ring was the key to her house. He’d only ever used it for emergencies or if Beth wasn’t home and he needed to grab Josh’s thin
gs. It worked the same for his house. He trusted her. He trusted her more as the mother of his child than he had as his ex-girlfriend. But since Beth and Josh were home, Sam knocked. He heard rushing footsteps until the door open.

  Josh smiled up at him.

  Beth had him dressed in skinny jeans, a white buttoned top, and a navy blue blazer with rolled up sleeves. Josh even sported a red bow tie. Sam grinned at him. He knew minutes into the party that Josh would make a fuss and have Sam remove it. But the kid was cute.

  His kid was cute.

  Sam’s name was on the birth certificate.

  He was listed as his son’s father.

  He’d raised him since the day he was born.

  He’d been there for every milestone.

  The six-year-old who dragged him into the house was his.

  Love made him his son.

  Not DNA.

  Sam would always be his father, and when the time came to tell him the truth, he hoped Josh would understand.

  The truth always simmered in the back of his mind.

  He knew Josh might never forgive them for lying to him, but Sam prepared for the worst. If Josh wanted to meet his real dad, Sam couldn’t stop him. But he had hoped he’d shown his son his love and devotion.

  That he was his real father in every way that mattered.

  Josh pulled Sam into the lounge room and announced, “Mum, Dad’s here!” once he dropped Sam’s hand.

  Beth smiled up at him as she fastened her earrings onto her lobes. “Josh, you want to finish wrapping Aunty Margot’s present? Dad can help you.”

  Josh folded his arms over his chest. “I’m six, Mum. I can wrap Aunty Margot’s present by myself.”

  “When did you get so much attitude?” she asked, serious.

  Sam burst out laughing.

  “Sam!” Beth warned. Then she gave him that look. The ‘you have to agree with me’ expression.

  He stopped laughing and then cleared his throat. “It’s okay. You go get a head start on wrapping. I gotta talk to your mum for a second. Is that okay?”

  Josh’s sceptical eyes shifted back and forth between his parents. “Am I in trouble? If Miss D said anything about giving Peter an Indian burn, it’s a lie.” He mumbled something under his breath to the tune of, “I thought she was on my team.”

  “You gave Peter an Indian burn?” Beth now had her hands on her hips. “All right. Go to your room! Finish wrapping your present, and we’ll let you know when you can come out because you are definitely in trouble now.”

  “But-but …”

  “NOW!” Beth raised her voice at him and then pointed in the direction of his bedroom.

  Josh pouted as he pivoted and then stomped towards his room. The door slammed shut behind him after he went inside.

  “I swear I don’t remember when our son turned into a teenager,” Beth said, sounding tired. She collapsed on the couch with a sigh. Sam noticed she had worn a tight dress that showed a little cleavage. It took her a couple of years to lose the baby weight, and when she had, she felt confident to wear clothing that revealed her hard work.

  Sam took out his phone as he sat on the couch with her. A few movements of his thumbs and he had texted Meredith.

  Sam: Did my son really give another kid an Indian burn?

  Meredith: It was Stewie Smith. Josh tried to help Peter. Your son isn’t a bully.

  “Josh didn’t give Peter an Indian burn,” Sam stated as a smile graced Beth’s lips.

  “And how do you know that?” she asked with a teasing tone. Because she knew exactly how he did.

  “You know, Beth.”

  “I know nothing.”

  Sam let out a laugh as he set his phone on the couch cushion between them. Suddenly, nerves succumbed him. For so long, he’d kept the secret. Neither of them ever voiced the truth. For Beth, it meant she didn’t have people looking at her in shame or passing judgement on Josh for her mistakes. His laugh had turned into a nervous cough.

  I just have to say it.

  Beth will understand.

  She wanted this.

  He breathed out, staring at the cautious glare she gave him. “I want to tell her, Beth. I want her to know.”

  Beth froze.

  The colour from her face faded in an instant.

  She had always known that this day would come.

  “It means she’ll never look at Josh the same way,” she admitted in a small voice. “He adores her. I don’t want him to be heartbroken when she pushes him away.”

  “Hey,” he whispered to calm her. “Meredith isn’t like that.”

  Beth’s chin dipped. “She’s gonna think I’m a monster. Oh, God …” Her eyes lifted up to meet his. “I look at him, and all I see is you. And I don’t know if that’s me wanting him to be yours.” Gravity pulled her tears down her cheeks. “God, I wish he was yours, Sam. I know that we always say that blood doesn’t matter, but sometimes, I feel like you’ll use that against me.”

  Sam scooted forward and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to his chest. “Never. I’d never use it against you. I love him. I can’t imagine the rest of my life without him. Not even a paternity test will send me away. I’m his dad, Beth. I was his dad the moment you told me you were pregnant.”

  He felt her sob against his chest. His own tears formed. When it came to Josh, he was all in. His heart was his.

  “No one is taking him from me,” he promised. Not only to her but also to himself. Sam grasped her arms and pushed her back. He swallowed hard at the fear in her eyes. “I need you to file a restraining order against him. I know he’s called you and threatened you. It’s enough to get one. I’ll speak to the Minister for Justice and get it fast tracked as a priority. I can also falsify a paternity test.”

  She gasped and shook her head. “Sam, you could lose your job.”

  “I don’t fucking care. We have to do this. He’s getting too hard to control.”

  “But Sam—”

  He squeezed her arms, interrupting her. “I’m not letting Bruce take my son away from me.”

  chapter thirty-five

  MEREDITH

  Seven years ago

  “Merida, you look beautiful,” her father commented as he aimed the camera at her and snapped a picture.

  Meredith gave him a smile. “Thanks, Papa.”

  Her parents had noticed the shift in her behaviour in the recent weeks. She wallowed and locked herself in her room, claiming to be studying for her exams next week. She hadn’t missed the way her mother and father glanced at each other when she gave them her blunt answers about her day.

  They were afraid she had slipped back into her ‘old ways.’

  But unlike when she was sixteen, she was struggling to accept her broken heart.

  Broken wasn’t a strong enough word.

  Samuel Michaels had obliterated it.

  Her chest was now an empty vessel of regret.

  What was worse was that she went back to him. Begging. Pleading for him to love her. She had been stupid. So stupid. She let him take from her.

  Just like Shaun Yeller took from her.

  Meredith clenched her eyes shut, afraid she’d be sent back to that night he raped her. She knew it was all in her head. She had seen a therapist in secret a week after her attack. Their sessions had lasted for a little while, but when he had been too pushy about her joining a victims’ support group, she never went back. He had called her several times, but he eventually got the hint. She didn’t want to share her story with anyone.

  Especially since her story became irrelevant.

  She’d never get justice.

  She was too late.

  Shaun Yeller had committed suicide a few weeks after her rape. He’d jumped in front of a train at Warren Meadows station. That had added to her guilt. She shouldn’
t feel guilty, but she did. She’d woken up to the news reporting his death. He was the South Eastern suburbs’ wonder child and prodigy who had gotten an early acceptance to one of the state’s elite universities on a scholarship.

  People mourned him.

  The entire community wept for him.

  She had to see his face everywhere she turned.

  They didn’t know he was a rapist.

  That he had laughed when she had begged him to stop.

  “Merida?” It was her mother’s voice.

  Get it together, Meredith.

  You can’t have Sam.

  He doesn’t love you.

  He’s about to become a father.

  He loves Beth more.

  After a deep breath, she opened her eyes. “Sorry. I can’t believe high school’s finished,” she lied.

  She had been tortured by seeing him at school. She hadn’t wished for anything more than for graduation to hurry up. Then it was exams. She’d only see him at their English exam, and that was it.

  She’d never see Sam ever again.

  If she was honest enough, she deserved the mess she was in.

  She had told him that she wasn’t a stand-in friend, and she had made herself exactly that.

  No longer Perfect Meredith.

  Instead, Doormat Meredith.

  Lame distraction Meredith.

  Rape victim Meredith.

  Stupid enough to let Samuel Michaels make her believe he loved her Meredith.

  She wished it would stop.

  The ache.

  The missing him.

  All the emotions poured into that melting pot.

  Combined to leave her in such despair.

  She was left with so much sadness and hate.

  “Meredith Driessen, you get your backside over here!” Margot yelled.

  “Yeah, Mere,” Phil said.

  Turning in their direction, she smiled at her friends. Margot knew most of her sad story—minus the rape. She had sat by her side as she cried her eyes out. She’d gotten her licence not too long ago and had driven to several shops to find Meredith’s favourite wild berry ice cream. Meredith appreciated Margot being there for her, but she envied her best friend so much.