Exactly a fortnight later, we spend our first full week at Mum’s.

I leave my suitcase in the hallway close to the front door, and walk through into the formal dining room, where a welcome brunch has been set up.

The table overflows with all of mine and Rhys’ favourite foods, and I know Mum has gone to a lot of trouble to try and make this visit better than the last.

I can hear a guitar playing from somewhere upstairs, and sit quietly while staring at my fingers.

"Max will be down in a minute."

I turn away from my mother's voice and look down into my lap. I picked a skirt covered in little yellow flowers today. Sometimes, when I can't hold one in my hand, it helps to be able to touch them even if they're not real. My fingernail traces the edges of the petals while we wait for Max. While we sit and patiently wait to meet the man who ripped my family to shreds.

I confess the same thing to each flower on my skirt.

I hope he doesn't bother to show up.

I hope he doesn’t bother to show up.

He does, and just like Galen he grins at my mum, but when he sees me, he stops. Nerves paint his face, but he quickly shakes it off and focuses his composure. He smiles at the full table and the banquet before him.

He plays the same game as Galen, too. Pretending he can't see me when he can. Except Galen does it across the school drive, not when I’m in front of the breakfast table.

"Wow, this looks good," Galen says as he walks into the dining room. "But I'm not hungry, I was going to go out for a run with Gareth." He glances at me, and then his dad. Max stares at him, and it's a look that says, 'You're not going anywhere. Sit your arse down.’

Galen sags and chooses a chair across from me, he slouches in his seat and rests his elbows on the table.

“Tea?” Mum asks, when she walks back in with teapot. She comes over to me and rests her hand on my shoulder. With soft words, she whispers into my ear, "Be kind to Max and Galen, please."

I look at the man she's talking about and see that he looks just like his son. Galen is the mirror image of him.

Where Galen is still white blond, Max's hair is slightly darker, but they have the same emerald green eyes and sun kissed skin.

One look at Max and you can see the handsome man that Galen is to become.

"Flower," Max addresses me, and I snap my gaze directly at his too green eyes and correct him. "My name is Fflur."

Mum is glaring at me, but Max continues regardless. "It’s lovely to have you here." His grin is cocky and rivals Galen's.

"Yeah. Thanks for having me." I can't pretend I'm happy to be here or enjoying the situation, but everyone is watching me, so I find it easier to look back at my skirt and count my flowers.

I hate it here—I tell the first flower. I hate him—I tell the second. Stick your smile where the sun doesn’t shine—I tell the third. I can’t believe she left us for you—the fourth.

Mum passes me a bowl and my favourite box of cereal.

She remembered. Her smile is small but happy, and best of all only meant only for me. A tiny corner of my heart warms, and wanting to lean into the comfort, I fill a bowl and eat.

For rest of the brunch, Max asks me a ton of questions, trying to get to know me, and Galen sits there quietly, pretending not to listen, but hearing every word.

When Max stands and kisses Mum on the cheek, he tells her that he and Galen will clear the table.

Standing side by side, I'm even more astounded at their resemblance. The apple didn’t fall far from that tree.

Mum calls my name before waving her hand in front me to try to get me to listen because I’ve zoned out watching the father and son and their comfortable camaraderie.

"Do you like your room?"

I don't answer, and she holds out her hand for me to take.

"Come with me. We can a look at it together. Make plans to decorate."

Rhys is already ensconced in his room. She looks at his door as we pass, but doesn't knock or go inside. My brother is behind those few inches of wood, and he didn't bother to come out for the welcome breakfast.

We pass the other door—bathroom—and between mine and Galen's room is what Mum describes as a TV room. It has a games system, TV, a stereo, and loads of instruments. Mum nods towards the space and tells me that this is where Galen practices with his friends. They've started a band.

"We’ve put a desk and TV in your room,” she says when I’ve stopping looking around at the guitars, drums, microphones and keyboards. “The boys tend to get a bit noisy when they practice. I expect you’ll prefer the privacy.”

My bedroom faces Galen's.

"Yours and Galen's rooms." Mum gestures towards both doors.

Why couldn’t Rhys be in this one? Why me?

"This is all yours, Fflur," she says as she pushes the door open wide. "We’ve kept it plain so you can choose how you want it. We want you and Rhys to be happy here. This is your house as much as anyone else’s."

I take in the room properly for the first time. A part of me wants to make this easier for her. I want to give her something. I'm not sure why, but I think I'm tired of the strain.

"Thanks."

She touches my arm lightly and says, "I'll leave you to it." She slowly backs out of the room with a tentative smile on her face.

I offer her a small reassurance in the only way I can and say, "It’s a good room, Mum. Thanks." But my voice ends in a whisper when I see Galen walking down the hall towards his bedroom. Before he can turn and see me, I close the door and collapse on my bed.