Mason wouldn't eat dinner at the table with Tony the next night. He wouldn't even eat the casserole he'd made, and it was Michelle who had to microwave some packet macaroni and cheese and watch him eat it in his room. Tony stayed out in the kitchen, and did not even attempt to fix things with his son, who didn't seem able to be in the same room as him.

'You know Mason,' Michelle said, sitting on his floor across from him and watching him slowly eat the macaroni, piece by piece. 'Tony didn't want to yell last night. He didn't want to make you sad.'

Mason placed another modest forkful of his dinner in his mouth and chewed. Each bite took minutes to get through. Michelle felt worried for him. Mason loved his food. He usually tore through his dinner, usually finished his plate in record time. Right now, he was so upset, so scared of Tony, that even eating one of his favourite things in the safety of his room was proving difficult for him.

'He just forgot that you didn't like yelling, that's all,' she said gently. 'I guess he just really wants you to remember to wait for us at dinner.'

Mason nodded, his eyes fixed on his plate. He seemed quite traumatised, and had said very little during the day. Michelle felt half angry at herself, half angry at Tony. He hadn't confirmed or denied it, but Michelle knew he'd scared Mason for her benefit. She was annoyed at him for doing it in a way that had deeply terrified Mason, but she did appreciate the gesture, even if she didn't consciously want to. His outburst was now making things difficult for them, and Tony, though he tried to hide it from her, was profoundly saddened by his son's newfound fear.

'Why don't we go back to the kitchen and eat with Tony?' she suggested. 'Hmm? He's not mad anymore. In fact, he just wants you to like him again.'

'No mummy,' Mason said quietly, his breaths quickening. 'I want to stay here. Please.'

'Come on,' Michelle coaxed him. 'We'll have a little bit of ice cream afterwards? How about that?'

She wanted to take him under the arms and lift him toward the door, but the moment she tried to he burst into loud, desperate tears.

'No mum!' he gasped, actually trying to fight against her. His little fists pummelled her shoulders. 'Please no! I want to stay here! Please!'

She sighed and held him tightly. He calmed down quite quickly, and the moment he was able to he asked to be put straight into bed. He didn't want to finish the macaroni and cheese, he didn't want to watch a cartoon, he didn't even want to show her what he'd done at school that day. He just wanted to be under his covers, with the light off and the door closed.

Michelle did as he wanted and kissed him. He seemed tired out from his paralytic fear, and was snoring softly by the time she left his room. She re-entered the kitchen where Tony was sitting at the table, his eyes dark. Michelle sat down, her plate waiting for her, and watched him. He hadn't eaten without her, and only now took up his cutlery.

She inherently knew he'd heard the exchange between herself and Mason in the bedroom. She knew he'd heard the terror in Mason's voice when she'd tried to bring them back together and she felt sorry for him. She knew she shouldn't. She knew he deserved whatever punishment came his way, even if it was his own doing.

'He's scares easily,' she told him. Tony just nodded. He didn't want Michelle to know he was upset. He had, after all, done it only to repair her damaged self-esteem.

'He'll get over it,' he agreed.

Michelle reached for her fork and took a bite of the casserole.

'Mmm. Tastes different,' she mused out loud without meaning to. She felt horrendously self conscious when she realised what she'd done. She had referred to all the times Tony had made casserole for her during their marriages. She'd brought the happier times of their life together to the surface. Tony nodded.

'Different recipe,' he said.

'Oh?'

'Yeah. This one...ah...this one's better. Healthier.'

Michelle chewed slowly.

'Healthier?' she queried. It was Tony's turn to look slightly self-conscious.

'Heart healthy,' he explained. 'Low cholesterol and ah... no salt. Lean meat. That sort of thing.'

Michelle swallowed.

'I see,' she said. Then she sighed. 'I shouldn't have told you about the heart thing. It's not a big deal. You didn't need to know.'

'The hell I didn't,' he growled. 'You should have told me weeks ago.'

'Why?' Michelle asked. 'What for? We're not together anymore. My health is no concern of yours.'

He glowered at her.

'It is my concern. A massive concern. And even if it weren't, I'd still be troubled. I want my son to have his mother around for a long time to come. I don't want him to have to lose her before he's good and ready to.'

Michelle continued on with her dinner, taking small bites, pretending Tony wasn't there.

'I picked these up,' he said after a long pause, pulling a little bottle off the counter behind him. 'They're vitamins. Some sort of special cardiovascular ones. Take them. And antioxidants are apparently pretty important for your sort of thing so I got these too.'

He jerked his head toward a box of special herbal tea on the counter, and a few packets of heart healthy dark chocolate.

'And this,' he said, his tone softening. He placed a bottle of red wine on the table, a very expensive red wine. It had once been Michelle's favourite, and though it wasn't something she had treated herself to often, it had become Tony's tradition during their marriages to buy her a bottle on her birthday or for their anniversaries. Michelle hadn't had a glass of it in six years.

'I never knew this but it's got an insanely high level of antioxidants or whatever it is you need,' he explained, pushing it toward her slightly.

She stared him, exasperated.

'What are you trying to do?' she asked. 'Trying to break down my defences with chocolates? With an active interest in preserving my health? By sharing that wine with me, hoping to get me tipsy, or drunk even, so that I'll warm to you? To forgive you? What, exactly?'

Tony tapped his foot on the floor beneath the table for a moment.

'I don't drink,' he said simply, 'and the wine is a gift for you. Drink it alone, drink it with company, I don't care. It's a gift. I have no ulterior motive.'

Michelle had, in all her rage, forgotten Tony's history of alcoholism. She chose to focus on that instead of focusing on resisting the urge to feel touched.

'The chocolate is meant to be good for you, so eat it. The pills will help you, so take them. And don't cast them aside or throw them out when I leave. I'm serious about this. Even if I have to force you to ingest them, I will. Your health is becoming the priority in this house now. All meals will be modified so that you're getting everything you need and nothing you don't. And you have a standing appointment at the doctors every fortnight. I've had it arranged.'

'Well, that's all very gallant of you,' Michelle said snippily, 'but believe it or not I've got my condition under control.'

'Clearly you don't,' Tony said, the volume of his voice increasing. 'When I was watching Mason yesterday you jumped at the opportunity to rush off to the doctors. Obviously you haven't got it under control, or you would have fixed appointments and arrangements in place for Mason. You would be eating better food, you would be relaxing, not working full time and spending every other waking moment tending to our son.'

Michelle couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

'Am I being chastised for being a good mother?' she spluttered. 'Are you berating me for sustaining a lifestyle in which your child is the priority? For working to support him?'

'You are a good mother,' Tony agreed quietly after a few moments of silence. He watched Michelle, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her fury. He dropped his gaze and focused on the table. 'You're an incredible mother.'

The air between them seemed to hum. The wind outside rattled at the windows and the black and white clock above the fridge ticked on.

'You know,' Tony said, still staring at the table, 'I'd always felt I'd done something extraordinary in order to get you. I'd always thought perhaps I didn't deserve you. How could I? Not even the first time you kissed me, after I'd threatened you and alienated you and forced you to break protocol, could I understand why you were still interested in me. I wondered if it was just some soft insecurity I had. Some left over sense of worthlessness from somewhere in my past. Maybe I was just dazzled by you or some stupid thing. But now, seeing you devote all your energy, all your time, all your love and care to our son, I know for certain I don't deserve you. I've always suspected it but now...but now I know for sure.'

Michelle eyes were almost boring holes into her side of the table, just as Tony's were on his side.

'You haven't touched the money I deposited,' he said after clearing his voice. He wasn't sure how long they'd both been quiet for.

'No,' Michelle confirmed. 'I've had it put aside. You'll need it when you move on.'

She hadn't realised the weight of her words until they'd left her lips. Tony stared straight at her.

'Move on?' he asked, his voice barely audible. 'Where exactly do you think I'm going to go?'

She shrugged slightly. 'We both know this can't go on.'

Tony sat tall in his chair, watching her incredulously

'What are you talking about?'

'I don't want you here,' she said sadly. 'You know I don't, but the longer you stay...' she trailed off. 'Mason is starting to like you. In a big way. Last night scared him, but it only scared him because he thinks you're wonderful. He's never had a man around him before, he's never had a role model, or someone to be firm with him, or teach him the sorts of things that will stay with him for life.'

Tony looked oddly discomfited.

'He doesn't like me that much,' he said. 'It's just because of the things I get him.'

Michelle wished that was true. She honestly did.

'No,' she said. 'I know him. I can tell the difference. And it scares the hell out of me because one day he's going to demand more. He's going to ask questions about you, he's going to want you around all the time, not just at dinner, and he's going to want to understand your relationship to me. And one day, years from now, he's going to look in the mirror and realise he's your son and then everything's going to go horribly wrong.'

'Wrong?'

'Yes, wrong. He's going to want answers, he's going to want some history. He's going to ask us about who we really are, where we were born, what we've done and...and how we met. He's going to realise he doesn't have grandparents or cousins and he's going to wonder about that too. He's going to ask why we're both covered in scars; why you limp and why my heart is weak and we're not going to be able to lie to him.'

'So we'll tell him the truth,' Tony said.

'Imagine being the child of Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler,' she said. 'Imagine that. The internet is rife with articles detailing your arrest for treason. They slander your name, they mention me as the woman you put above an entire nation of people, they put you in the same sentence as Stephen Saunders. He's going to find reports of a car bomb that have our names listed as casualties. He's going to see my death certificate and compare it to my forged Canadian passport and ID cards – all the evidence of my life as an illegal alien. He's going to find records of your trial for all the terrible things you did in Washington and he's going to look at his parents and see two people he can't be proud of. Two people he doesn't really know.'

'He'll be proud of you,' Tony said fiercely. 'He better be.'

Michelle rolled her eyes.

'It's true that I haven't done anything especially bad,' she said, 'but I'm still here illegally, still living in secret and in fear. I mean...he doesn't even know my real name. He thinks its Camille, for christ's sake.'

She stopped to take a fortifying breath.

'And then there's us,' she almost whispered. 'I can't stand to be around you, can't ever forgive or forget, and that's going to poison his home, and slowly destroy our lives. We can't be happy just sharing a meal with each other at night. I know us. We have to have all or nothing. There's no middle ground, no happy medium. It's all or nothing...and I can't give you "all". I can't love you, I can't reward you, I can't invite you back into my life. It can't be all so it's got to be nothing. It just has to be.'

'It doesn't,' Tony snarled. 'It can be all. We can have all again.'

Michelle shook her head. She got up suddenly and took his plate and her own. She deposited them in the sink and stood staring out the window, her back to him.

'So that money is for when you move on,' she said, praying that her voice sounded robust and sure. 'I won't put an expiry date on your time with him. I won't tell you when you have to leave, or make you feel like an intruder. But you will have to leave. There's no way around it.'

Tony had left his seat and had come up behind her. He knew she could see his reflection in the window pane, but it didn't deter him and it didn't frighten her. Gradually, he extended his arm and wrapped it around her waist. She stiffened slightly beneath his touch. Soon, both arms were around her, clutching at her abdomen, holding her tight. He drew her back toward him, drew her in close, and rested his head in the crook of her neck. He took a long, slow, deep breath in, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin, and closed his eyes sadly, savouring the feel of her against him. She realised she wanted to cover his arms with her own, wanted to nestle her head upon his, wanted to reach behind her and run her fingers through his hair. She didn't though. They stood together for such a long time, not moving, hardly even breathing.

'I haven't even held him,' Tony admitted, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in her curls. Michelle closed her eyes, feeling tragic and displaced. She pulled away from him then and vanished up the corridor.

Tony watched her go, feeling helpless. He ran his hand over his face and left the kitchen. He dropped onto the couch, unable to think what he could do or say to her when he realised she had reappeared by his side. Clutched against her was Mason, fast asleep, his head lolling from side to side.

'Here,' she said, leaning his son toward him. 'Here.'

'Michelle, he'll wake up –'

'He won't,' she told him. 'He's the deepest sleeper imaginable. It's scary, really. He won't wake.'

Slowly, Tony took him in his arms. Michelle sat down next to them and curled up, pain slinking through her. Tony looked, at his core, lost for words. He held his son to his chest, rubbed his back gently, rocked almost imperceptibly against the upholstery of the couch.

'He's beautiful, Michelle,' he uttered after minutes had gone by, his voice broken. He pressed his face into the top of Mason's head. 'He's so beautiful.'

Michelle nodded. Later, she got to her feet and Tony followed her. She showed him Mason's room, and Tony got to put his son to bed for the first time. He tucked the blankets around him, smoothed his hair back and kissed his face. He joined Michelle at the door and looked intently at her.

'See you tomorrow?' he breathed.

She nodded.

'Tomorrow.'

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