Well, this wasn't what he had intended.

But it needed to be said. They needed to be honest with one another. They couldn't continue their awkward dance. They couldn't keep slapping a band-aid on each new hurt and calling it a day. The rift was growing. Soon, they would hardly be able to look at one another, and what would that teach Ilona? She might be oblivious now, but she wouldn't be for long.

"It wasn't cruel. We could give her a life. A good life. Together. If you'd just allow for it. If you'd just--" He bit back, but his volume did not climb. Zach wasn't even sure he was capable of yelling, and he wasn't about to find out then, not with Ilona present.

"You left, Jo." He blurted, voice laced with sadness and a touch of bitterness. "You left and refused to reply to most of my letters. For reasons I still don't understand. You left and returned with a baby. A beautiful, wonderful, miracle of a baby. Whom I may have never known to exist until you reappeared with the news. Who we 'play house' for. But we shouldn't have to-- We shouldn't--" His voice hitched slightly, the despair that descended upon him upon her departure gobbling up his words. His jaw quivered, but he stilled it. "I don't want to pretend, Jo."

It was his turn to abandon his spoon, but he did so without a clatter. Zach raked a hand over his face, suddenly looking tired. "Dare I even ask what my sister said?"