Chapter 29 Anna
Anna
I’ve managed to dodge red-flag Roger all week, thank Christ.
I’m walking a fine line between arriving at work just on time, getting the job done, and slipping away as early as I can without raising any suspicions.
Normally I’m there at dawn’s arse-crack, but this week I’ve been booking yoga classes first thing, opting to do something for myself with that time instead.
I avoid the staff room like the bubonic plague unless absolutely necessary, and even then it’s only when I can hear other voices inside. I just hope I wounded Roger’s pride and oversized ego enough to keep him away from me.
After Liam stayed over on Monday, I felt much better, surprisingly. Just knowing he’s there if I need him. He made me feel seen. Safe… happy.
Finn’s been thriving. He’s been playing with Yuki more confidently and slowly involving himself in classroom activities.
He still doesn’t speak up much during lessons, but I’m sure that will come with time.
His progress has been amazing, nonetheless.
A bright spot in what’s otherwise been a thoroughly shit week.
Now, at the end of it, I’m curled up in bed with a hot water bottle and a packet of cheesy crisps. I’m trying to ignore my phone because the urge to message Liam is proving to be as useless as holding in a sneeze.
I startle, dropping my bag of crisps, when my phone starts ringing. My heart stutters at the name lighting up the screen: Liam.
I wipe my greasy crisp fingers over my old joggers before swiping to answer. “Hey,” I say, trying to sound unaffected.
“Hey,” he says, his voice warm. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks, you?”
“Good. What are you doing?”
My eyes sweep over the mess around me. “Oh, nothing. Just finishing up some cleaning.” The lie slips out easily. “You?”
“Just put Finn to bed.” I can hear the smile in his voice, that soft tone he gets when he talks about Finn.
“He seems to be doing much better. He was smiling and laughing with Yuki in class today,” I say.
I hear what sounds like a door clicking closed. “Yeah. He’s good… really good, actually.”
My mouth tilts into a small grin. “I’m so glad to hear that.”
Neither of us speaks for a beat and I pick at the corner of my duvet, waiting for him to say something.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks, his tone cautious.
I let out a slow breath. “Yeah,” I say, my voice quiet. “I’m doing better.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Don’t you have a game?”
“Yeah . . .” He clears his throat. “I was wondering if you wanted to come.”
My stomach somersaults. God, do I want to.
The thought of watching him run around the field, all sweaty, in tiny short shorts that hug his arse in a way that feels criminal, fighting off other hot men, turns my insides to lava.
But we agreed to be discreet about our time together, and showing up to his match feels like the opposite of that.
What if someone sees us? What if there are photos?
What if I can’t resist the urge to dry-hump him in front of everyone?
“I’m not sure that’s wise… us being seen together and all . . .” I bite my lip, hating how much I want to say yes, hating the fact that the image of him in his football kit is already burned into my retinas.
“I don’t think a friend coming to watch should raise any eyebrows.
The cameras will be focused on the game, not the spectators.
And we won’t be arriving or leaving together.
Besides, my cousin Roman will be there with his wife Zoey and their daughter, Mel.
Finn will be there too. He’d”—his voice drops slightly—“he’d really like you to be there. ”
I hum. Finn wants me to be there. The thought makes my chest tighten.
I smirk, settling back against my pillows. “Liam Murphy. Are you seriously using your son to manipulate me into coming to watch you play?”
“Is it working?”
“That depends. Are you going to kiss one of your teammates when you score?”
“What? No!”
I smack a hand over my mouth to stop from laughing. I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Then that’s a no from me.”
A beat passes. “Wait, are you being serious?”
I chuckle. “Ugh,” I groan. “Fine. I’ll come.”
His voice is all silk and smoke when he responds, “Dirty girl. I’ll send you the details.”
I’ve never watched a game of sport before. Truthfully, I’d rather bob for apples in a bucket of cum. But maybe doing something entirely new will be good for me. A chance to meet new people, get out of my flat, engage in an activity that doesn’t make me queef, and take my mind off the week.
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.
“Night, baby.”
Another thing I hate? How after speaking to him, I always feel better.
It’s game night. I’ve FaceTimed April for outfit assistance, though, honestly, I’ll use any excuse to see my favorite little man.
“How’s the vagina holding up?” I ask, tossing a crisp into my mouth with a satisfying crunch.
Elliott fusses in April’s arms as she cradles him close to her chest. “Ugh,” she moans. “I’ve never felt more like an animal in my life.”
I laugh but she pins me with a serious look.
“I’m not joking, Anna. Yesterday I finally managed to shave my legs and wash my hair instead of dousing it with dry shampoo, and I just…
leaked everywhere. Milk soaked through my top and I bled right through a super pad.
It’s out of control.” She shifts Elliott to her other arm.
“James keeps telling me I look beautiful, but I’ve never felt more unsexy. ”
“Oh, stop it. You are beautiful, April,” I say, giving her a dismissive wave.
“Look at you. You’re sitting here only a week after giving birth, taking care of Elliott like you’ve been doing it for years.
Your body just did something incredible.
You made a perfect little human being who’s healthy because of what your body went through.
The leaking, the bleeding—all of it—means everything is working as it should be.
Elliott’s so lucky to have someone as strong and loving as you to take care of him.
I’m not sure there’s anything more beautiful than that. ”
“Well,” she says, uncertain. “That might be. But it doesn’t change the fact that every time I fart I’m terrified I’m going to tear myself a new arsehole.”
We both fold in laughter.
“All right, all right,” April wheezes, getting back to business. “Try the black trousers with the merino wool cardigan,” she says, squinting at the screen while she bounces Elliott gently.
Propping my phone up on my dresser, I discard the jumper I’m currently holding and change, spinning on the spot to give her a full three-sixty view.
“Hmm,” she says, tilting her head. “It’s still not right.”
I huff my annoyance, going back to the wardrobe to try again. “What the hell does someone wear to a football game?” I mutter, sliding hangers across the metal rail.
“Layers,” April says definitively. “It’s always freezing in those stadiums at night.”
I pull on a pair of dark jeans, black leather heeled boots, a gray cashmere jumper, and a light cream coat.
“How’s this?” I ask, turning to check myself out in the mirror.
“Perfect!” Her face lights up. “So… do you know who else is going to be there?”
I plop down on the bed. “His cousin Roman and his wife, their daughter, and Finn.”
April grins, adjusting her hold on Elliott. “Meeting the family… that’s a big step.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that… we’re friends.”
She purses her lips. “Riiiight. And I suppose you’re not overthinking what to wear because you want to impress anyone?”
“Fine. We’re friends with benefits,” I clarify.
Her mouth tilts in a teasing smile as she scans me from head to toe. “Well, I think you’re certainly going to be getting some benefits tonight.”
I stare at her incredulously. “I’ll be sitting in a stadium packed with tens of thousands of people, shivering my tits off. I’d better be getting laid after this.”
She winks. “Go get ’em, tiger.”