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“I’m fine,” I lied. “I definitely understand why you kept me in the dark four years ago. Sometimes it’s better just not knowing.”

“I just wish you’d been single when he finally got the all clear all those years ago,” Aaron said. “You certainly picked a bad time to get a boyfriend.” 

I’d considered telling Aaron that Jaxon and I were just going to remain friends, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of point. He obviously knew we nearly got together four years ago, and probably figured out we were an item when he saw me sitting next to Jaxon at the press conference.

“What do you think about Jaxon and me?” I asked. I tried keeping my voice down so that no one overheard, but I spoke so quietly that I had to repeat myself three times. If Aaron couldn’t even hear me then we should be safe. 

“I think the two of you make a great couple,” Aaron replied. “One of those sickeningly good-looking couples that will have perfect children and never look older than thirty-five.”

I laughed at Aaron’s overly optimistic view of my future. With all the stress I was under right now, I had aged at least ten years in the last month already and didn’t even want to imagine how much worse that would get over the coming months. The people at the table near us left, so we pounced and sat down before anyone else could get close.

“I meant about the…” I paused to look over my shoulder and make sure no one was listening. “The unique nature of our relationship.” 

Aaron shrugged. “Some people are going to think it’s weird, I can’t deny that. I hope you don’t mind, but I told Millie. I wanted to get another opinion on the whole thing and she’s great with secrets. Trust me, I have some whoppers and she never told anyone even after we had a temporary period apart a few years ago.”

“That’s fine,” I said. Millie was a great fit for Aaron because she understood his slightly dark sense of humor. Not many women did and he often offended them before the end of the first date. Millie had a devilish grin and the sense of humor to go with it. They were perfect together.

“She did think it was a little odd when I first mentioned it, but when I explained that the two of you had met when you were seventeen she thought it was fine. I guess it would be weird if you’d grown up together, but this is completely different.”

“So what you’re saying is that if the general public goes to the effort of finding out the facts before judging us then we’ll be fine?”

“Yes.”

“I’m fucked.”

“Completely. But maybe BuzzFeed will do an article and explain it to those with a short attention span.” 

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for an article on the ‘Top Seventeen Reasons Why Jaxon Foster’s Relationship with his Stepsister isn’t as Gross as it First Sounds.’ ”

“That’s the spirit,” Aaron said. “Do you want another drink?” 

I’d polished off my vodka tonic much quicker than usual, so I let Aaron buy me another. “This will have to be the last one though. I don’t want to be too far gone when I meet Jaxon’s father tonight.”

“Ah yes, you mentioned that. I don’t know why you’re so worried. Why wouldn’t his dad like you? You’re a Harvard grad with a job in the city. You’re quite the catch.”

“He’s a bigshot speaker on international affairs I think. He’s not going to be impressed by my academic credentials. I guess I’m not worried about impressing him as such. It’s more that he will see me as Jaxon’s stepsister and then we’ll have one more person to come out to, so to speak. It would almost be easier if we could just act like a normal couple.”

“Why don’t you then?” Aaron asked. “I’m serious,” he added, when he saw the look on my face. “You’ve already seen how the media can get hold of information. Your parents would rather hear the news from you than see it on the television. Do people still get their news from the television?” 

“My parents do. Tonight’s too soon though. Jaxon hasn’t seen his dad since the news about his illness came out.”

“Just promise me you won’t let fear of other people’s opinions get in your way,” Aaron insisted. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this, it’s that life is short. Make the most of it.”

“I will,” I promised. Four years ago I’d been so worried about what other people thought that I had delayed Jaxon for months. If I hadn’t done that then we might have already been a couple when he got the news about his illness, and we could have fought it together. This time I didn’t let that fear get in the way of us being together, but I hadn’t exactly owned it either. 

“Let’s change the subject,” I said. My glass was nearly empty and I had to leave soon. I didn’t want to be one of those people who met up with friends and then only talked about herself. “How is Millie? Last time we spoke she was trying to decide where to study for her PhD.” Millie was a few years older than Aaron, so she’d already completed a Masters degree and had a year of work experience at a bank.

“She’s going to Wharton,” Aaron replied. “She considered delaying for another year to get more experience and a better understanding of the financial markets, but she hates her job so much that she wants out as soon as possible.”

“Can’t say I blame her, but if she hates working for an investment bank, why is she going to spend three or four years studying financial markets and writing a paper on them?”

“She’s one of those people who prefers studying things to actually working in the real world. Shame really, because the bank pays well and it meant I could work part time while trying to establish myself as a writer. Oh well, you can’t help who you fall in love with, can you?” 

“No,” I replied. “You certainly can’t.”

I reluctantly left the bar and took a taxi home. Jaxon didn’t like me taking public transport in the evening which to him meant any time after six. He’d forced me to accept his money, so I might as well spend it. 

Neither Jaxon nor Aaron could understand why I was so nervous about meeting Jaxon’s father and to be honest neither could I. It didn’t make a lot of sense. It was just a dinner and Jaxon’s dad was going to be far more concerned about Jaxon’s illness than he was with anything I had to say.

That didn’t get rid of the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t understand it, but I just had a sense that something was going to go wrong. I wasn’t the superstitious type, and I certainly didn’t believe in woman’s intuition, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

The nervousness got worse as I walked up the driveway to my house. The light was on in the dining room, but the blinds were pulled so I couldn’t see inside. I could hear laughter before I even stepped foot inside the door. There hadn’t been much laughter in the house since my dad married Carrie, so it was a welcome change.

The three men sounded like they had already had a drink or two and the mood was relaxed. At least this meant they might not notice the smell of vodka on my breath.

The door was slightly ajar, so I quickly slipped off my shoes and pushed it open. Jaxon immediately leapt up and almost kissed me on the cheek, before he thought better of it and instead just placed his hand on my back in what was supposed to be a casual manner. Nothing about Jaxon’s touch had ever felt casual to me, but hopefully it looked that way to Dad.

Jaxon’s dad had his back turned towards me and hadn’t noticed me walk in because he was debating the merits of Australian wine with my dad.

“Dad,” Jaxon said loudly to get his father’s attention. “I want you to meet Jenny. Jennifer, I mean.” We had agreed beforehand that Jaxon would not introduce me specifically as his sister just to make things seem a little less weird. It didn’t work. The unspoken word was even more remarkable for its absence.

Jaxon’s dad turned round to look at me and a cold shiver went down my spine immediately. I knew him. I would never forget that face. 

“Hello Jennifer,” his dad said softly, as if he’d never seen me before. “I’m Esmund. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He had seen the news conference, so he knew I was going to be here, but he’d come anyway and now he was pretending he didn’t know me.

It had been a pleasure to meet him the first time, but not now. I reached out and gingerly shook his hand. I shivered again as my skin touched his. I didn’t want to look at him, let alone touch him. 

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured in reply. 

“Okay,” Jaxon said loudly. “Now that we’re all here and the introductions are all done, let’s dig into this food. I’m starving.” 

If there was one small consolation to being sick it was that I finally had a decent excuse to get all my favorite people together. Under normal circumstances, I don’t think Sheridan and my dad would have wanted to share a meal. It wasn’t like my dad still lusted after my mom—at least I hoped not—but it would be a bit weird to have dinner with your ex-wife’s new husband.

Tonight they put all the weirdness aside and were completely civil to each other. With more time, Sheridan and my dad might actually become friends, although Dad would no doubt disappear back to California soon. 

Dad and I had gone to a bar before dinner to have a proper talk about my illness. If anyone there recognized me, they had the decency not to come over and interrupt what was clearly a serious conversation. Talking in a bar was much better than being somewhere private. This way we could keep the conversation a little more formal and I knew Dad wouldn’t cry in public. The last thing I wanted was to see him upset.

Last time I had been sick, Dad had stayed strong for me the entire way through the illness, but he was older now and I sensed he didn’t have the energy to go through all that again. Still, for now, he kept things together. 

If it weren’t for Dad, I wouldn’t have got where I was today. Without him, I would have given up on sport years ago and—at Mom’s insistence—focused on academics, which weren’t exactly my strong point. 

Dad had fought her continuously until she accepted that if soccer was my passion then I should be allowed to follow it through. She went as far as agreeing to let me choose my college based on the quality of the soccer program, but she had a fit when I said I wanted to skip college altogether and play in Europe.

I must have sounded like a naive fourteen year-old when I’d said that, but Dad never doubted me for a second. He drove me around the country for competitions and he kept his ear to the ground for news of when and where European scouts were in the country. One of his little trips paid off when I impressed a scout from London and even though my illness ended up getting in the way of that move, I wouldn’t have made it to England without him.

God only knows where I would be now if I’d listened to Mom. She was right to insist that I was clever enough to go to a good college—every teacher since first grade had talked about how clever I was—but I didn’t do well in standardized tests, so the top colleges would never have taken me. 

I would have ended up at some average college where I would have started strong, but ended up with poor grades after being distracted by sorority girls. Mom would have helped me get a boring office job and that would have been that. Illness or not, I was much happier with the way my life had turned out and I owed it all to my father.

Sheridan poured another glass of wine for Dad and himself, but Jenny had barely touched hers so far. I couldn’t drink at all because of the medication and, to be honest, I didn’t really want to. I’d felt worse and worse with each round of radiotherapy and the last thing I wanted right now was alcohol. 

It would be hard enough to eat my dinner anyway. I’d been feeling nauseous with the last few doses of the medication, but I wanted to keep that fact well hidden from Jenny. The side effects didn’t mean the medication wasn’t working, but she’d still panic and assume the worse. So far she’d remained strong, and I desperately needed that to continue, for her sake as well as mine.

Dad and Sheridan finished their somewhat passionate discussion about wine and turned back to face Jenny and I as we began to eat. I’d insisted on plating up the food and had deliberately given myself less to eat, but it was still going to be a struggle to finish it all. Jenny started picking at hers, but she didn’t look at all hungry either.

“So,” Dad said, turning to face Jenny. “Your father tells me you got a job working for New York United?”