21 | Whatever you need
21 | whatever you need
CARA
My hand shook as I unlocked the front door and dragged it open, the familiar smell of the flat doing little to soothe my frazzled nerves. The faint sound of the television drifted toward me, punctuated by the rapid-fire clicks of a video game controller. Jason was home. The glow of the screen cast flickering lights across the floor. I took off my shoes, the thud as they hit the ground grabbing Jason’s attention.
‘You’re back,’ he called. ‘How’d the date go? Did you manage to get through the door before he tried something?’
I walked to the doorway of the living room, my heart racing at the pain his question provoked. He sat with his profile to me, engrossed in the game. When I didn’t reply, he finally glanced at me. His whole body stiffened at the sight of my face, his eyebrows knitting.
‘Cara?’ he said, pausing the game and setting the controller aside. ‘What’s wrong?’
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, trying to find the strength to speak. ‘Did you know?’
Jason frowned, confusion etched across his face. ‘Know what?’
‘Did you know that William…’ I took another deep breath, my face contorting. ‘That he might be the father of Francesca’s baby?’ My voice broke on the last word, the enormity of the situation hitting me all over again.
Jason stared at me, the information taking a moment to register. Then his eyes widened in shock, his face turning ashen. ‘What? Are you serious?’
I nodded, tears welling up again. ‘She called him this morning. Said she’d be back in a week for the paternity test.’
Jason stood up, his movements slow and hesitant. ‘I had no idea,’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘I swear, Cara, I didn’t know.’ He stepped closer, concern deepening the lines on his face. ‘What happened when you found out? What did Will say?’
I wiped away a renegade tear. ‘He said he’d take responsibility if the child is his, but he won’t get back with Francesca. He wants to be with me.’
Jason clenched his jaw, scanning my face. ‘And what about you? What are you going to do?’
My chest ached as I watched him. The weight of everything was crushing me. ‘I told him I need to think.’ I started toward my bedroom. Jason followed me, his footsteps echoing my own.
‘This isn’t some sick joke, right?’ he asked, his feverish tone making it sound as though he hoped it were just that. ‘Because I am really struggling to believe this.’
‘I wish it were,’ I replied, shaking my head. ‘You should ring him, Jason. He needs someone right now.’
‘And what about you?’ Jason said, his soft voice tinged with worry.
‘I’ve got lunch plans with my parents.’ I knelt, pulling out a bag from under my bed and dropping it on the mattress. ‘But I think I’ll stay the night.’ I felt his eyes on me as I walked over to my wardrobe, stuffing the bag haphazardly with clothes, my laptop, and my headphones. ‘Could you tell John and Daphné that I won’t be able to make dinner tonight after all? I’m really sorry.’
I glanced at him, seeing the panic, the sympathy, and the helplessness that swirled in his eyes – eyes that were painfully similar to his brother’s. William, heartbroken and sobbing… My face twisted as I tried to block out the image.
‘Of course,’ Jason said. ‘I’ll tell them.’
I zipped up my bag, the sound harsh in the silence. I felt like I was moving through a fog, every action mechanical, my mind numb. I turned to Jason, trying to muster a reassuring smile but failing miserably.
‘Thanks,’ I said, my voice wobbling. ‘I just… need to figure this out.’
He walked over and pulled me into his arms. ‘I’m so sorry, Cara. I can’t imagine what this must be like for you.’
I nodded against his chest, the tears spilling over as I squeezed him tightly. ‘I don’t know what to do, Jason,’ I croaked. ‘I don’t want to lose him, but…’
He tucked my head under his chin, his hands gently rubbing my back. I drew a long breath, taking in his soothing scent, grounding myself in the comfort of his embrace. We stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other tightly as I wept quietly. When I finally pulled back, the warmth of his hug lingered, but it wasn’t enough to stave off the chill of uncertainty that had settled deep in my heart.
‘I think being with my parents will help,’ I murmured, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hands. ‘Maybe they can help me figure out what to do – what I really want.’
Jason cupped my face. ‘I’ll ring William, make sure he’s okay,’ he said, thumbs brushing my cheeks.
I gave him a broken smile, a sob escaping me. ‘Good.’
‘But I’m here if you need me, too,’ he said sombrely, staring intensely at me. ‘I’m here for you both.’
‘I know, Jase.’ I wrapped my hands around his wrists, squeezing them with gratitude. ‘But William needs you more right now. I have my parents, and I have Livy. I’ll be… okay.’
He swallowed, giving me a faint nod as he lowered his hands.
‘I’ll be back tomorrow,’ I said, picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. ‘We can talk more then.’
‘Okay.’ His light-blue eyes roamed across my face, oozing compassion. ‘But until then, don’t hesitate to ring me if you need anything – anything at all.’
‘Thanks, Jase.’ With that, I headed for the front door, hoping the time with my parents would bring the clarity I so desperately needed.
§ § §
I sat at the kitchen table in my parents’ house, the familiar surroundings offering a fragile sense of comfort. The pale wooden table, the scent of freshly brewed tea, the gentle hum of the refrigerator – it was all strangely reassuring. Yet, the weight of my words hung heavy in the air, creating a tension that seemed to stifle the room.
Mum sat across from me, her hands wrapped around her favourite black mug, her brow furrowed in concern. Her hair, coloured brown to hide the streaks of silver, was pulled back into a loose bun, and her eyes, a royal blue, watched me intently.
Dad stood by the counter, staring at the floor with his arms crossed. His once-dark hair was now more salt than pepper, and his frame, though still broad, had softened with age. His deep-blue eyes, usually so full of warmth, were clouded with concern as he tried to get his mind around the situation.
‘So, William might be the father of her baby?’ Mum’s voice was soft, but the shock was evident. She exchanged a worried glance with Dad.
I nodded, my hands trembling slightly as I clutched my own mug. ‘Yeah. Francesca’s coming back for a paternity test next week.’
Dad sighed deeply. ‘And he didn’t tell you about this before?’
I gulped. ‘He only found out about a week ago.’
‘And why didn’t he tell you then?’
I inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to dissolve into sobs at his unforgiving tone. ‘He wanted to wait until he had the result.’
Mum gave Dad a stern look. ‘It hardly matters, Jamie. It wouldn’t have changed anything if he’d told her straight away.’
‘But it would’ve. It would’ve shown he’s reliable. Hiding something like this…’
I grimaced, setting my mug down. ‘Dad, he thought he was protecting me. He didn’t want me to stress over it until he knew for sure.’
‘I understand that, Cara, but I can’t say I’m impressed. How can you trust he won’t keep other things from you in the future, believing it’s for your protection?’
I brought my hands to my face, shaking my head. The image of William, weeping with guilt and despair, flashed in my mind.
‘He won’t,’ I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. ‘After my reaction, I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.’
‘Well, I can only hope you’re right.’
‘Dad, please,’ I said, meeting his eyes. ‘Don’t hold this against him. Just think of how hard this must be for him. I would’ve struggled with knowing what to do, too.’
‘I agree with Cara,’ Mum said firmly. ‘William was, and is, in an exceptionally tricky situation. Yes, he messed up by not telling her straight away, but we should give him a chance to prove himself – show that it was a one-time mistake, not who he is.’
I looked at Mum, huffing with gratitude and relief. ‘Thank you.’
She reached out, placing a comforting hand over mine. ‘Oh, love, this is such a mess. I’m so sorry.’
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said, my gaze flickering between them. I needed their guidance, their wisdom, to navigate this storm. ‘I love him, but this… It’s all so much.’
Dad walked over and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. ‘You don’t have to decide anything right now. Take your time, let things settle a bit.’
I nodded, absentmindedly running my thumb across the edge of my mug. ‘I just feel so bad for him. He… he’s in so much pain right now, and I know I have the power to take it away – I want to take it away – but…’ I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and Dad reached out to wipe it away. I gave him a small smile, appreciating the loving gesture.
‘Cara, you’re only twenty-three,’ Mum said softly. ‘Of course you’re conflicted. Becoming a stepmother at such a young age … Many would be averse to that idea, even when they’re older.’
I looked up, searching her eyes. ‘What would you have done?’
She cast a glance at Dad, her brows creasing, and a silence filled the room. Eventually, she sighed and said, ‘It’s hard to say, but I think I would have tried to make things work.’
My heart throbbed. ‘Really?’
She nodded. I looked up at Dad, seeing the affection that spilled from his features as he stared at Mum.
‘The right person is never completely perfect,’ Mum murmured and took a sip of her tea. ‘As you get older, people come with more and more baggage from past experiences. Even you will be carrying some baggage down the line. What you need to figure out is whether William is worth it – if you love him enough to handle his baggage.’
‘Your mum’s right.’ Dad gently squeezed my shoulders. ‘And for what it’s worth, Aunt Maddie became a stepmother when she was twenty-five,’ he said, referring to his elder sister. ‘And she’s still happily married. It wasn’t easy for her at first, but she made it work.’
I tried to absorb what they were saying. Aunt Maddie had always seemed so content, and her stepchildren – whom I had always considered as close as real cousins – clearly loved her. But could I do the same?
‘So, if the child turns out to be Will’s, you think I should give it a try?’ I asked, looking between them.
They exchanged a glance, both frowning slightly.
‘You’ll need to decide that for yourself, Cara,’ Dad said, pulling out the empty chair beside me and sitting down.
‘What we can say,’ Mum chipped in, ‘is that if you really love him, you might be glad you didn’t let him go.’
‘Giving it a try,’ Dad added, ‘won’t necessarily hurt. You can always step back if it gets too much. But if you don’t give it a chance, you might end up regretting it, and by then, it could be too late.’
‘I do love him,’ I said, staring blankly into my tea. ‘But I’m scared.’
Mum leaned forward, squeezing my hand. ‘It’s all right to be scared, Cara. But remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, and so is William. You just need to take it one step at a time.’
Dad nodded in agreement. ‘You’re strong, Cara. Stronger than you think. If you believe in your love for William, then give it a shot. But don’t rush yourself. Take the time you need to figure things out.’
‘Until you know for sure whether the baby is his, there’s no need to decide anything,’ Mum reminded me. ‘Use this time to really think it through. It’s normal to have mixed feelings – this is a big shock. And for William’s sake, I agree with your dad: let things settle a bit before you make a decision. Don’t tell him anything until you’re absolutely sure of what you want to do.’
‘Yeah, don’t worry.’ I raised my mug, taking a sip. ‘I won’t be impulsive about this. I don’t want to give him any false hope.’
‘Good. Take your time, love,’ Dad said. ‘If he’s worth keeping, he’ll understand.’
Mum gave me a reassuring smile. ‘And we’ll support you no matter what you decide.’
I nodded, the tension in my chest easing slightly. For the first time that day, I felt a tiny seed of hope take root. Maybe, just maybe, William and I could find a way through this.
§ § §
The soft glow of the lamp posts outside filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across my childhood bedroom. The distant hum of the city was a constant reminder of the bustling life that continued beyond these walls, of the world moving on no matter how much I wanted it to stop, just for a moment.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, surrounded by mementos of my past. Various sports trophies lined the shelves – football, volleyball, tennis, basketball, even curling. The walls were adorned with old posters of my favourite rock bands, photographs of teammates, moments of triumph, and memories of simpler times.
I sighed, turning over for the umpteenth time. Sleep eluded me, the events of the day playing on a loop in my mind. After dinner, we had FaceTimed my sister Phoebe in New York. She had listened intently as I told her about my situation with William, her face a mixture of concern and sympathy. But at least everything was going well on her end; she was still happily with her girlfriend, Bethan, and they planned to come to London for Christmas. The news had been a small comfort in the midst of my turmoil.
After the call, I had retreated to my bedroom, wanting to be alone with my thoughts. But now, as I lay in the dark, the anxiety hounded me, making it impossible to relax. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, its glowing digits telling me it was well past midnight.
I picked up my phone, scrolling aimlessly through messages and social media, trying to distract myself. But nothing could take my mind off William and the looming uncertainty of our future.
The thought of seeing him at work tomorrow made my stomach churn with dread. I couldn’t bear the idea of facing him so soon after everything that had happened. The wound was still raw, the emotions too fresh. How was I supposed to concentrate on work when all I could think about was our predicament?
Yet, I couldn’t help but worry about how he was coping. The urge to reach out, to hear his voice, was almost unbearable. I knew Jason would have contacted him, maybe even visited him, but it didn’t ease the pain in my heart.
I stared at the screen of my phone. Reaching out felt like the right thing to do, but I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to hear his voice just yet. Still, the thought of him suffering alone was worse.
My fingers trembled slightly as I navigated to his name in my contacts. The phone barely rang once before he answered, his tone saturated with both surprise and relief. ‘Cara?’
My heart palpitated at the sound of his voice, my face twisting.
‘I… I just wanted to check on you,’ I said, struggling to get the words out. ‘I needed to hear your voice.’
‘And I needed to hear yours,’ he said, sounding strained.
‘How… how are you doing?’
There was a pause, and I could hear the tension in him.
‘Not great,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been… worried.’
Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to the agony in his voice.
‘I’m sorry.’ I sat up. ‘I just really needed some space.’
‘Don’t apologise. I’m the one at fault here.’
I swallowed the ache in my throat. ‘You didn’t mean for this to happen.’
He huffed. ‘No. No, I certainly didn’t.’
‘I just … It’s been overwhelming.’
‘I know. I’ve been feeling the same way.’
I sighed, gathering my thoughts. ‘I’m okay, though. I’m at my parents’.’
‘Yeah, Jason told me.’
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. ‘I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to tell him, but I wouldn’t have been able to hide it.’
‘No, don’t worry, darling.’ Darling. The endearment sent a surge of anguish through me. ‘I’m glad you told him.’
There was a slight pause, the silence stretching between us. I wasn’t sure what to say, but I didn’t want the conversation to end. I wanted to hear him talk, wanted time to freeze around us, locking us in this moment. The future would never happen, then. It would just be him and me, forever.
‘Did you go to dinner with your parents?’ I asked.
‘No. But Jason came over. He left about an hour ago.’
‘Oh, good. I’m glad he’s there for you.’
‘Yeah, me too. We talked. It helped a bit.’
‘That’s good to hear.’
‘Yeah. And I’m really grateful you reached out, Cara. It means a lot.’
I felt a pang of guilt. I was glad I had called him, that it had helped soothe his pain somewhat, but what I was about to say next was bound to make it worse. I closed my eyes, searching for the strength to voice my needs, my heart aching with the complexity of my feelings.
‘Will,’ I began, my voice trembling. ‘I’ve been thinking about work tomorrow.’
There was another pause, and I could hear his dread in it.
‘Yes?’
‘I…’ I grimaced. ‘I don’t know if I’m ready to see you yet. Everything feels so overwhelming, and I don’t think I can handle it. I’m worried I won’t be able to concentrate, or that I’ll start crying in front of everyone.’
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and I could feel his hurt through the phone.
‘Right. I see.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. ‘Do you think I could work from home?’ I asked, the tears stinging. ‘I just feel like I need a day before I face you again.’
He was silent for a moment, and I could hear the suffering in his voice when he finally spoke. ‘I get it, Cara. Whatever you need.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered, the tears spilling over as relief and sadness washed over me in equal measure. ‘I wish things were different.’
‘Me too,’ he said, his voice unsteady. ‘We should get some sleep.’ I could hear the strain behind his words. It felt like a weak excuse to end the call, like he needed to retreat to avoid falling apart while we talked.
I hesitated, not wanting to let him go, not like this. But he clearly needed space, so I reminded myself to respect it.
‘Yeah,’ I whispered, my chest screaming with emotion. ‘Good night, Will.’
‘Good night, Cara.’
The line went dead, and I was left staring into the darkness. The tears flowed down my cheeks, uncontrolled and unending, until exhaustion finally pulled me into a fitful sleep .