"You can do this Rosie." I muttered, exhaling sharply as I pulled my shoulders back.

Even from the outside, a tantalising combination of hot coffee and fresh pastries tickled my nose. My stomach rumbled.

Still, I hesitated.

Maybe I should just go home?

A light misty rain fell around me, finding its way through every gap in my clothing and seeping into my skin. My damp hair slipped from its tie, splatting against my neck and sending droplets of cold water down my collar.

I shivered and hurried the last few steps.

The bell jangled overhead in welcome as I pushed open the door to the small coffee shop. The barista behind the counter lifted her head as I entered, a wide smile pulling on her lips. I waved a greeting even as I stamped my feet against the doormat in an attempt to dry my shoes.

It was pointless. I was soaked through. Water dripped from my coat as I stepped further into the shop and closed the door behind me.

"Morning, Rosie," the barista chirped as I approached, her gaze drifting over my shoulder. "No, Richie today?"

I shook my head. "Not just yet, he'll be by later though."

"Your usual?" She asked, hands already picking up a large bucket sized mug for my extra-large cappuccino.

I nodded my head even as my gaze turned to survey the array of tables. Was he here yet? I bit my lip and studied the persons at each of the tables. Did he have my chin? Or how about that man? Did he have my eyes?

"There you go, one large cappuccino with extra chocolate sprinkles."

I blew out a breath and turned back to the barista, pulling the large mug towards me with a smile. "Perfect as always."

She smiled back before her eyes went back to the other customers. "Everything okay? Is this another online date?" She leaned over the counter before murmuring. "I'm happy to give you an out of you need it."

My cheeks heated. The memory of that disastrous encounter with sleazy Steve was something I would rather forget. And yet, it was how I had come to know this coffee shop. It was how I had come to form this – whatever it was – with Kelly.

"No, it's not like that. At least, it's not a date."

"Oh?" She asked, moving back to press a few buttons on the till.

I shrugged. "It's complicated."

"Well, now I'm intrigued. Next time you're in, I want all of the gossip." She teased, as the door jingled merrily behind me. "Tap when you're ready, Rose."

I paid quickly, tucking my bank card into my bag before taking hold of my mug. "Thanks, Kelly."

"You're welcome, Rosie." She grinned before turning to the man now standing beside me. "What can I get you?"

He gave a distracted reply but the words barely registered. Instead, I picked up my mug and hurried over one of the free tables in the centre of the café.

I settled in a chair, my hands cupped around the cappuccino mug, my finger tapping absently against the white porcelain. My gaze alternated between the rapidly shrinking froth in my mug and the dark screen of my phone.

Was I really doing this? Maybe I should have taken Richie up on his offer. Then I wouldn't be sitting here on my own.

My pulse was thudding so loudly that it took a moment to register that there was someone hovering near my table.

Glancing up with a polite smile, I sucked in a sharp breath at the nervous expression peering down at me. The man was in his forties with a receding shock of white hair. He reminded me a little of one of  my former school teachers. Perhaps that was just the knitted cardigans.

I swallowed. It was really happening.

There was no instant recognition. No soul deep connection that told me this man shared my DNA. Then again, I didn't need it. The way he shifted from foot to foot, his hands clutching tightly on to his coffee cup as he wrinkled my nose was enough.

"Rosie? Hi, I'm Graham."

I blinked and then stood abruptly from my seat, the legs of the chair screeching across the floor.

Every head whipped our way and a blush stormed over my cheeks. I glanced around before holding out my hand. "Hi Graham, it's –uh – nice to meet you."

He shook it quickly.

Then, he blew out a slow breath, as I often did, before smiling. "You too." He nodded his head at the table. "Shall we take a seat?"

"Yes. Yes. Of course." I shook my head as I reclaimed my seat. Then, laughing a little too loudly, I muttered, "This is so awkward."

"Agreed." Graham cupped his hand around his mug, his eyes working over my features. "This is all a bit surreal. I knew you existed, have done for several years, but this is just -."

"Yeah, I know." I replied, lifting the mug and taking a gulp of the coffee.  My gaze lingered on his  features, taking note of all of the similarities  - things I had seen in the mirror every morning.   "You said you've known about me for a long time. How?"

"I opened a letter for dad by mistake. Graham is my middle name." He explained, his hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out a worn envelope. "Someone posted this to him. I would presume it was your mum."

I peeled open the envelope and gently shook out the contents.

Well, fuck.

My own face stared back at me. Younger. Happier. No sign of the troubles that would soon consume my life. It was one of the few times in my life that I remembered our family together. Mum and Dad had been there to send me off and, for once, they didn't argue. At least, not until I had left.

"Wha-? This was my prom picture. I was sixteen." I shook my head. "I can't believe she sent this."

"There were others too." He added, folding his hands on the table before him. "Dad confessed to me when I found this one. He showed me the others. Your first birthday. Your first bike. All of the big moments."

I shook my head. "I can't believe she did this. She never told me anything. If I hadn't been clearing out her house, I would never have never have known about him. About you. I would never have suspected."

"I think your mum did that to protect you. I love my dad but he was – far from a saint." His lips pressed into a thin line. "Your mum wasn't his first affair though, as far as I am aware, you are my only half-sister."

I swallowed. My mind was stuck on one word. "Was?"

"He passed five years ago." He replied with a sad smile. "He was a heavy smoker and it finally caught up with him. He refused to give up even at the end. Stubborn old fool."

My lips curled up. "I've been called stubborn a time or two too."

And yet, even as I tried to break the tension, a shift was happening inside of me. The part of me that had been wound tight for days, perhaps even months, unfurled. Suddenly, it was all just flat. Was it relief? Disappointment?

I had been so focused on how I would confront the man who had caused a rift in my family. The man who had contributed his genetics and little else. I had never considered that I would never get that chance.

"A family trait." Graham said, pulling his cup towards him. "Or so my husband tells me."

A chuckle escaped my lips. "Do you have a picture?"

"Sure," Graham tapped away at his phone before pulling up a picture of a white haired man.

Deep lines were etched around the corners of his eyes and around his mouth. Despite the cannula supplying oxygen, his grin stretched wide across his face and there was a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

Graham turned the phone back before showing another photo, a much younger version of my biological dad on the arm of a pretty blonde haired woman. She stared up at him adoringly as confetti fell around them. Her puffy wedding dress doing nothing to hide the beauty of a woman in love.

"Your mum?"

Graham nodded, his face brightening as he turned the phone back to himself.

"Did she -?"

"Know? No. At least, I don't think she lets herself acknowledge it. Dad was her world. She was with him up until the end."

"She's beautiful." I murmured, her love struck face imprinted on the back of my eyelids.

God, how could he do it to her?

She loved him so much and he still betrayed her. Sure, it took two to tango and Mum had her own share of the blame. But, when he had someone who loved him this much, and he clearly loved too if there continued marriage was anything to go by, I just couldn't understand it.

I glanced down at the table and shook my head. Maybe it was better I hadn't met him.

My finger tapped absently on the rim of my mug before another thought occurred to me. "Are the others still – alive?" I asked hesitantly.

"The others?"

I ducked my hand into my bag and pulled out the menu, the one that was starting to tear at the edges from where I had unfolded it and refolded it over and over again. I set it down on the table between us and pushed it across to him.

"My mum wasn't perfect either. She loved your – our dad – but she was conflicted." I said, before tapping the column of cons. "She mentioned you on this list. There are others too."

Graham nodded his head. "They're – a little less accepting of the situation that I am. They were angry when they heard about the affair. Dad had always been a bit of a hero to them. They didn't take the news of the affair too well."

I swallowed and glanced away to hide the wince. In other words, they wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn't say that I blamed them. If I was in their shoes, maybe I would feel the same? I was the one desperate for connection. Family. They already had it and my presence only reminded them that it wasn't perfect.

"That's understandable." I said, staring down at my mug.

"They'll come around. I'm sure of it."

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "They don't need to. I would like the chance to meet them but I don't want them the feel obligated."

Graham nodded his head. "That's very understanding of you."

"I try." I shrugged my shoulders. "We're strangers that share some genetics. I would love to learn about you all but, if this is as far as it goes, I'm okay with that too. I'm just glad that I finally have some answers."

He nodded his head and slumped slightly in his seat. "I just can't believe you've been here all this time. We've probably crossed paths and didn't even know it."

I nodded my head. In all of the goings on, that hadn't even occurred to me. Perhaps I had me them all – my half-sisters- and I just didn't know it. I shook my head. Wondering would not help anything.

"So, tell me about you? About you mum?"

I swallowed. Waiting for the familiar tide of grief to overwhelm me. And yet, for once, the pain was just a background murmur as I stared up at the man who shared my chin.

"She was, Evelyn." I stated after a pause, offering him a shrug. "She was a dancing on the beach in the middle of a rainstorm kind of woman."

"She sounds wonderful."

I grinned wide. "She really was."

And in that moment, I knew that I meant it. I couldn't hate her no matter how much I disagreed with her actions. She was just a woman who fell in love.

The initial awkwardness ebbed away over coffee as we shared anecdotes about our parents and discussed our past which had played out just a few short miles apart. And, when Graham finally left an hour later, he was no longer a stranger.

I watched him pause at the door, waving as he did so. Then, with one last jingle of the bell, he disappeared through the door. I watched the door close behind him before allowing my shoulders to slump. Everything in me was tired.

Yet I knew one thing for certain. If we never met again, I would be okay.

I had the answers I needed.  I had my family. I had a job I enjoyed. I had a friend I would not give up for anyone.

But, even though I knew I wouldbe okay without him in my life, I hoped it would not be the last time Isaw Graham.