31. Lies and more lies
CHAPTER 31
Lies and more lies
Dad is eerily quiet. I need him to say something, give me hell for threatening someone—my baby daddy on his property, but he doesn’t do any of that. I stop pacing and kneel beside Mace’s rocking chair. I should have let him see his son. What the hell is wrong with me?
A sigh travels from his end as his hands flatten on the dining table. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know,” I reply.
Mace blinks at me. I drag a finger across the sole of his socked feet. His eyes close, and his breath evens out. Jason’s car is gone. We need to leave. Dad volunteered to drive us home. I scoop Mace out of his chair. Dad folds and tucks it under his armpit so he can grab my bag.
“You should make up your mind,” Dad says. He is being too gentle with me. I know it’s the guilt. I also know I shouldn’t put him in this situation, but I can’t help it. The keys jingle as he snatches the bunch off the dining table. “Whatever happens, he deserves to see his son.”
“I know.” I close my eyes, and my chest sags. I’ll have to talk to him. “I want to go home.”
Dad leads the way to his car and opens the backdoor for me. Mace burps. I hold him close to my chest so I don’t have a reason to let go of him. Can Calum take my baby away from me? I tried to reach him on more than one occasion. His mum never told me where he was, and the email said he had moved on and… My eyes close as the car rolls forward. The fight of today and the stress of the last few weeks roll into one and explode into me. My head falls back. I am lost in my world with my thoughts for company until Dad’s car jerks to a stop.
Amelia’s car sits in front of the house. According to her, one was enough for us. Maybe she knew she wouldn’t be driving it for long. I exit the car before Dad rounds to my side to open the door. He grabs our bags while I start for the entrance. The floor is wet with light rain, but that’s not why I hesitate. I haven’t been here since… Amelia left me. I don’t know if I want to go in alone. Or be alone. I look back to see Dad a few feet away from me. I’m not alone.
My brain slows as I stop in front of the house. I retrieve the keys but forget how to use them. Dad nudges me to the side and unlocks the door. A click rings through my head. Dad goes in first. I delay following him. The whole place is as I left it. I stand in the middle of the living room and close my eyes. It’s as if Amelia Greene is still here, that I can feel her presence.
Dad unfolds Mace’s chair so I can place him inside. “Cathie, will you be okay on your own?” His voice sounds close, but my eyes stay shut. I don’t want to return to my sad reality. When he taps my shoulder, I nod. “I’ll be back later to check in. Need to sort out a few things.”
“Okay.”
His lips press to my forehead, but I register nothing.
“It’s okay if you want to cry,” he whispers. “Just let it all out.”
“No, I’m good. I already cried yesterday.”
Dad draws me in for a side hug. I hold on too tight. His eyes are as tired as mine. “There’s no limit to the number of times you can cry, Cathie. It’s been years, but I still grieve your mum.”
“But you remarried,” I whisper.
“Yes. Two realities can exist at the same time.” His phone chimes. He groans without looking at it. A soft sigh leaves me as I step out of his arms. He will have to leave me soon. “I’ll whip up a meal for you, okay? You need your strength. Taylor left some recipes. We’ll try them later.”
No. I need to forget.
“Okay,” slips out of my lips.
Dad’s footsteps fade with each step away from me. One look around the room, and my breath catches when I spot Amelia’s notepad tucked into the couch. I didn’t notice it earlier. Now that I have, I lack the strength to pick it up. Maybe if I leave things as they are, she’ll return.
She’s dead.
On autopilot, I stagger to Mace’s chair beside the couch and stare at the wee lad sleeping so peacefully. He doesn’t know what I did. But when he does, he won’t like me anymore.
He will leave me. I sink to the floor, knees drawn to my chest as I watch him.
Emotions swim inside me. I sway, telling myself to calm down, but my chest tightens. Mr Dissick will take me to court, he will take Mace, and it will be just me in this house. My son will hate me. My friends already think I’m too much to handle. Only Amelia understood me.
The more I stare at his crib, the bigger the fear of him being ripped from me grows. It sucks me into this dark bubble and alienates me from my reality. When I hear what sounds like a kid’s cry, I stare blankly at my son’s chair. The cry goes louder, gets closer, and more urgent.
Mace is crying.
“Shut up,” I tell him, my voice a little above a whisper. Tears blind my vision. It’s salty. My hands go over my ears to stop the sounds. “Quiet. You’re going to your papa, aren’t you? You’re going to leave me. You’re going to call me a bad mama, and you won’t be wrong.”
“Cathie? Catherine?”
The voice comes from afar. Someone grabs my shoulders. I look up at Dad peering down at me with worried eyes. I point to the chair. Mace is still crying. Why won’t he shut up?
“Dad? Mace is crying. Tell him to shut up.”
My father goes on one knee as he inspects my face. “Are you okay, Cathie? Talk to me.”
“I’m fine. Maybe. I don’t know,” I say. The weight in my chest detonates. Pressure builds until I’m shaking like a wet leaf. A cry tears out of my lips, shutting Mace up. I stomp my feet on the rug, and the tears pour down my cheeks. Dad’s arms tighten around me, but I can’t stop trembling. I want to die. “Why does everyone always leave me? What’s wrong with me, Dad?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. I promise,” Dad whispers. He tightens his hold on me, his head buried on my shoulder. “You’re okay, Catherine. This, too, will pass. You’re okay.”
Lies and more lies. It won’t pass. This ache is permanent. Mum left. Calum left. Amelia left. Mace will also leave me. I’ll be alone. I try to pry his arms off me, but his grip turns to steel.
Banging my feet against the floor, I scream, “Let me go. I want to go.”
“Go where?”
To my mummy. My chest heaves. Silent tears roll out of my eyes. Another cry barrels out of my lips, but this time, it’s not from me. Mace is crying. I’m crying. I’m so tired of everything.
A door opens somewhere in the house. The force of Dad’s arms lessens. A shadow falls over me. Someone touches my arms. I blink a few times before my vision clears. Calum kneels in front of me, his brows drawn tight over soft, worried eyes. He palms my face with one hand, bringing my gaze up to his.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “Superstar.”
The name twists something in my belly. I lunge for him. In my mind, I did. But in reality, my movements are so slow he grabs my hands before I can hit him. Pulling me flush against his chest, he hugs me so tight, like he can absorb the darkness inside me. I loathe his existence.
“Breathe for me, Cathie. Breathe for Mace, superstar,” Calum whispers, his fingers running in circles around my lower back. “You are okay, baby. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
“Liar,” I say between hiccups. I pull away from the hug to glare at him. “You will take Mace away from me. If you want to do it, just do it and get it over with. Take what you came for.”
“Cathie.”
“Just do it!”
“No one is taking Mace away from you. You are his mother, and nothing can change that.”
Only now do I register the silence. Mace is quiet. I try to stand, but I can’t. Calum notices and sweeps me into his arms. I try to protest, but my punches are weak. Dad gives him directions to my room. We move, and my head pounds harder. The flight up the stairs only worsens the building headache. I give in and force myself to relax until I’m lowered to a firm surface. A bed.
Turning my back to him, I curl into a ball and whisper, “You can leave now. Bye.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Cathie.”
“Go,” I whisper-yell. But the fight has left my voice.
“Nope. I’m stuck with you.”
The bed sinks with his weight, and his knuckles run across my cheek in a straight line. My body likes it. It goes on for a while until I calm down and no longer feel the urge to claw at him. As the silence stretches on, I roll onto my back. He’s still here. But he will leave again.
Without missing a beat, he tugs on the hem of my shirt. I glower, but he chuckles.
“Come on, Cathie. Cuddle? Please.”
If I say yes, then those months he left meant nothing. But I’m so exhausted. Calum sighs, and I lift my arms for him to remove the shirt. I’m only in my underwear when he pulls off his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. He sneaks into the bed and hugs me from behind.
As soon as our skins connect, I know that’s what I need right now. Calum adjusts the pillow under my head. At first, there’s no contact beyond my back pressed against his chest, but he slides an arm around my waist. When I don’t fight, his lips drop to my shoulder for a kiss.
“You need to talk to someone, Cathie.” His voice kisses my skin. I’m talking to him, aren’t I? He’s in my bed, my house, my space. “You really need help, Superstar. Professional help.”
“Of course I need help. Anyone will need help if they have to deal with you as their baby’s daddy,” I fire. He chuckles, but I don’t share in his humour. “This doesn’t make us friends.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to be friends with you.”
“I hate you.”
His lips drop to my neck, and he litters kisses up to my ear. “We can fight about that later. Go to sleep. I’ll be here, I promise.” I’m not believing his lie today, so I stay still in his arms. He places a hand over mine and squeezes. “I promise, Cathie. I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep.”
This time, I believe him, and my body succumbs to his voice.