Read April's Glow for Free Online

called in to the police station, the hospitalisation from dehydration and malnourishment, the guilt trips he’d give her because ‘no one looks after me’ … She’d tried. Her mum had tried. But after the divorce Clarissa had said enough was enough. She’d check up on him occasionally, but there were boundaries she intended to maintain. At least her dad’s neighbours knew his situation and often checked on him, which gave her some peace of mind. But she couldn’t be his carer. She had her own life to lead, to rebuild after all that had happened.
    She wouldn’t waste her life by watching him waste his.
    * * *
    April slowed as she walked past her new neighbour’s house after work, noticing the bundle of mail sticking out of the letterbox, and a parcel sitting on the doorstep. It was almost six. Maybe he was out?
    â€˜Probably waiting for the mail to come to him when it’s ready,’ she joked to herself.
    Heavy clouds hung overhead in the darkening sky. April yanked the mail from the letterbox and marched up to his porch. She glanced down at the parcel, the sender’s label said ‘Fast and Fresh’ and had a logo of a basket of fruit. If it was fruit, she didn’t know how fresh it would be sitting out here all day. And why would someone get fruit home delivered anyway, when the shops were a quick walk up the road?
    Holding the mail in one hand, she knocked on the door with the other, then adjusted her handbag strap over her shoulder.
    Her gaze flickered to a window at the side as the curtain moved. Then the door opened slightly and the man stood there as though trying to hide something behind him. Either that, or he could be worried she might barge in and start making herself at home or something.
    She waited for him to say hi, but he kept silent, looked at her with eyes that seemed older than his years.
    â€˜Just bringing in your mail,’ she said. ‘Not that I’ll be doing that on a regular basis, but it looks like it might rain, and it was sticking out of the letterbox.’
    â€˜Thanks.’ He snatched the mail from her and went to close the door but April held out her hand and stopped it.
    â€˜And there’s a parcel here.’ She glanced down at the box. When he didn’t bend down, she added with a hint of sarcasm, ‘Would you like me to pick it up for you?’
    He didn’t reply, simply bent down and lifted the box as though it was as light as a feather. He was wearing that singlet again, and now that she was closer she could make out one of the tattoos on his outer arm: a Chinese-looking symbol.
    â€˜Nice tatt,’ she said.
    â€˜One of many,’ he finally spoke.
    â€˜I figured that.’ Her eyes scanned his skin, but now the box in front of his chest obscured her view.
    â€˜I’m April.’ She held out her hand, even though his hands were firmly holding the box.
    He turned around to go into his house.
    Oh great, he’s ignoring my attempt at being neighbourly. What a jerk.
    She shook her head and was about to turn away herself when he placed the box down in his kitchen and came back to the door. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Zac.’
    Oh.
    She grasped it, and even though she’d been taught to shake hands with a firm sense of confidence, she held his like a limp fish as both the touch of his warm skin and the sight of his intense eyes looking directly into hers overwhelmed her ability to focus.
    â€˜I already know your name,’ he added. ‘Overheard it the other night.’
    Oh yes. The flower. ‘So it was you who left the gift on my doorstep.’
    He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
    â€˜Clearly it was since you didn’t say “what gift?”’ She smirked, but he remained silent. ‘Well, thanks. It was nice.’
    He gave a single, small nod.
    â€˜Anyway, I’ve done my neighbourly duty, I’ll leave you to it.’ She turned.
    â€˜So what do