Chapter 4
FOUR
Sophia
I can hear him talking on the phone to his cousin. He doesn’t even sound like my Josh when he takes these calls. He’s loud and obnoxious and his whole demeanour is different. Even his voice sounds different. He sounds like an arrogant prick.
That’s always been my biggest worry with Josh. I’ve never been able to fully determine who he really is. When we were in school, I had reservations in the back of my mind about him, but it felt like they mostly grew from other people’s concerns and opinions. The Josh I knew, the one who I was sneaking around with, wasn’t the same guy I was being warned off.
My Josh was kind, but a bit cocky, confident but a little awkward, loud but shy.
He wasn’t the person they made him out to be.
I still, to this day, don’t know if I was wrong or right about him.
I, most likely, was the silly young girl being fooled by the charms of a charismatic guy, blinded by his cute smile and his ripped muscles.
Everyone around me didn’t like it. But I did it anyway, and here we are.
It could be worse.
Sure, the logical part of my brain knows that he’s done a terrible thing to me once, and he could do it again. That there’s the possibility that deep down, he’s not a good man at all. But then there’s all the other stuff. The stuff no one else sees. He can be sweet, caring, considerate and reliable. Sometimes when he looks at me, and at Aria, I can physically feel the love coming out of him.
It's easy to judge people when you’re on the outside looking in. I’ve been guilty of it myself, but when you’re in it, when it’s your life, your family, it’s not as easy as it seems. There are feelings, responsibilities… commitments. And more than that, you want to see the best in the person you love.
And I do love him. Despite his temper.
Admittedly, though, I’m not too fond of the version of him that he is when he’s with his uncle and cousin. I try to steer clear of anything to do with them, which also means steering totally clear of his work too. I really have little idea what goes on in the hours he spends outside of our little house.
I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is, but I don’t get a good vibe from his family. They give me the heebie-jeebies, his uncle especially.
Something about him makes me feel grateful that I’ve never had to be alone with him. I don’t think he’s the kind of man you’d want to meet down a dark alley.
Josh winds up his phone call and strolls into the kitchen, back to his usual self.
“Gavin wants me to head in early today.”
I nod, my mouth full of food.
He snags a piece of toast off my plate and takes a bite, before bending down and kissing the top of Aria’s head. She’s sitting on her play mat on the kitchen floor, while I have my breakfast.
“Bye, baby girl,” he says to her as he stands up and takes another bite of my toast, before returning it to my plate.
He kisses me on the forehead, tells me he loves me, and then he’s out the door, about thirty minutes earlier than usual.
I sigh into the quiet space after he’s gone.
I don’t mind being alone – never have – and I’m not technically alone right now, but there’s only so much talking you can do to a tiny human who can’t talk back, before you lose your mind. Sometimes the days feel so long .
“Lucky it’s grocery day today, huh, my chunky monkey.”
Aria just kicks her legs and squawks enthusiastically.
I like supermarket shopping day. I’m not sure when I turned into a boring middle-aged housewife who has nothing more exciting to do than meal prep, make a shopping list and wander down the aisles with all the time in the world, but here I am.
Aria babbles away to herself and shakes the toy she has in her hand before sending it flying and reaching for another one.
That kid is going to have quite the arm on her if she keeps throwing everything she can get her hands on.
“Alright Ari bug, Mumma needs to decide what we’re going to eat.”
I go through the cupboards and the fridge, trying to come up with genius ideas to best make use of the few things we have left from the last shop.
I never knew that I liked to cook, but since me and Josh have been out on our own, I’ve discovered that not only do I enjoy it, I’m actually pretty good at it. I can make yummy meals out of the most random ingredients.
It started out because we didn’t have the money to waste any food, but now it’s just as much about the experimentation and the satisfaction for me.
I sing the wheels on the bus to Aria when she starts getting grumpy before I’ve finished my list, and she claps along, grinning.
She’s truly adorable. I know every mother probably thinks their child is the cutest thing ever, but mine seriously is. She’s beautiful. It’s ironic because everyone says she’s a mini version of me, and while I agree – Josh’s DNA looks like it was barely involved – I struggle to see anything beautiful about myself when I look in the mirror.
It takes me about an hour to get her changed, dressed, and the both of us ready to leave the house. We drive downtown to the local supermarket – the same one my mum took me to when I was a little kid – and pull the car my parents insisted I have once Aria was born, into the parking lot. The car is nothing amazing, but it’s spacious and reliable and it gets us safely from A to B. I’m more than grateful for it.
Aria loves the supermarket. There was a time when the only thing that made her stop crying and grizzling was coming down here and being pushed around in a trolley.
She loves the bright lights, all the people that stop and talk to her, and the fact that if I’m not paying enough attention, she can pull a bunch of crap off the shelves and throw it to the floor.
I get her settled in a shopping trolley, and I relax into the familiar process of looking for specials and checking things off my list.
I’m oblivious to anything much going on around me. The only time I really pay attention to anyone is if they approach Aria. She’s got a habit of babbling at people she comes across; she’ll point and make a bunch of noise until she gets a smile or a chat from them.
I’m trying to choose a cereal that doesn’t taste like cardboard, but also won’t cost me half the weekly budget when I hear Aria cooing away to someone.
I love the sound of her baby chat, but when I look over to see who’s fussing over her now, I get the shock of my life. I feel my shopping list fall from my hands to the floor, but I can’t look away from him to see where it’s landed.
“Hello, Sophia.” His deep voice makes my belly flip. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It feels like forever since I saw those blue eyes.
“ Bryson ,” I breathe. “What are you doing here?”
He lifts the shopping basket in his hand higher.
He’s shopping.
“Right. Duh. Obviously.”
He smiles at me, but it feels a little forced.
Aria shrieks and draws my attention to her. She’s stretching for Bryson’s basket, her little grabby hands frantically reaching for something in there that she’s set her sights on.
“And who is this little princess?” he asks, genuine delight in his tone .
It might just be the most animated I’ve ever heard him sound.
He starts taking things one by one out of his basket and offering them to Aria, putting back each rejected item before offering another.
She claps, delighted with this new game.
I can’t take my eyes off the two of them. This feels so surreal. The guy I was obsessed with for years, and my daughter. They don’t exist in the same world.
“Sophia?” Bryson’s gaze flits to me, questioning.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Aria,” I say quickly. “This is my daughter, Aria.”
“She looks just like you,” he says, his eyes soft as he offers her a single carrot.
She grins gleefully as she takes it, hugging it to herself.
Apparently, he’s found the winning item.
He chuckles softly, so quietly I barely hear it.
I can’t believe he’s here.
I don’t know how to react. I feel like this isn’t happening to me, as though I’m on the outside watching it happen to someone else.
I didn’t let myself think about Bryson when I got pregnant, and now, life is just so much for my brain to comprehend as it is, that there hasn’t been space for him.
He virtually stopped existing to me.
I feel like that’s all about to change, though. I’m not going to be forgetting the sight of him in a hurry.
He looks good. Even better than the last time I saw him. He’s filled out even more somehow, he might be a bit taller, but it’s been so long I can’t be sure.
The late teenage years have been good to him. He’s looking less like a boy and much more like a man.
He’s quite possibly the most delicious one I’ve ever seen in real life. I don’t know what it is about him – he calls to me.
Him standing here in front of me is stirring up feelings and desires I didn’t know I had anymore. They’re feelings and desires that I’ve got no business having about a guy who isn’t my daughter’s father.
“The girl knows what she wants,” Bryson says. It’s worrying that I don’t immediately know if he’s talking to me or my baby.
I need to snap out of it. I’m about thirty seconds away from turning into a puddle on the floor.
I look at my little girl, still cuddling a carrot.
“Really, Ari bug? A carrot? You’re such a weird little chicken,” I tease, my words breathless and rushed.
I spot my shopping list on the floor and lean down to retrieve it, being careful not to look at Bryson as I do it. I need a few seconds to pull myself together .
I get a grip on my trolley again and risk another glance at Bryson. “What are you doing back in town anyway? It’s not uni holidays.”
He looks a little confused by my question. “I didn’t go away to study.”
I frown. “You didn’t?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m working on my degree online right now.”
Weird. I’ve been here all these months and never once seen him around.
“Huh. I didn’t know. I just assumed you went off with Cullen and Pax or something.”
He shrugs, his expression unreadable. I feel kind of bad that I clearly have no idea about his life or what he’s doing with it. It couldn’t be more obvious that I haven’t asked after him.
I don’t spend any time on social media anymore, I deactivated my accounts when I became the pregnant teenager that everyone was gossiping about, and I haven’t reactivated them since.
Truthfully, other than my close school friends, I don’t care what anyone is doing with their lives at the moment, and I don’t need anyone peering into mine and passing judgement.
“Do you still play rugby, or nah?”
He nods. “Yeah, I made the regional team, so I guess I’m technically playing professionally. I live about twenty minutes away, I’m going to see my sister right now, she’ s off school sick.”
“Wow. Congratulations. On the team – not the sick sister.” I feel myself blush. I’m rambling like an idiot. “I hope she’s okay.”
He’s studying my face in that way he’s always done. I don’t know what he sees, but a look of concern crosses his face. It goes as quickly as it comes.
“It’s just a cold. I think she’ll make it through.”
I smile awkwardly and shift my weight from side to side, suddenly more self-conscious of my post-baby body than I’ve ever been. I’m still very small, but my shape has changed, I’ve got boobs that didn’t used to be there, and I could swear my hips and ass have widened. I’m not used to the way clothes fit my body.
“So, Tonksy, aye… You guys live around here.”
He doesn’t ask it like a question. I don’t know if he’s looking for an answer.
The silence stretches.
“Ah. Yeah. We rent over on Beacher,” I finally say when I can’t take it anymore.
He nods thoughtfully.
I thought maybe he might have asked how his old teammate was doing, or something – anything , but he doesn’t. That seems to be all he has to say about that.
I shift my weight again, trying to hide behind the trolley. I feel awkward, I don’t know what to say, and Aria is proving to be no help, she’s gone quiet .
I clear my throat. “Well, we better get moving, it’ll be her nap time soon. This is about as exciting as our week gets these days, I’d hate to ruin it with a meltdown.”
“Oh, yeah. Don’t let me hold you up,” he replies quickly.
Aria is still clutching the carrot tight. “I think you might have to get yourself a new one of those, sorry.”
The corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile. “That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
“Thanks for stopping to say hi,” I tell him as I start to push the trolley away from him.
He doesn’t say anything else, but I feel his eyes boring into the back of me as I walk away down the aisle.
My palms feel sweaty.
I nearly make it to the end of the aisle.
“Sophia,” he calls after me. I brace myself and turn back to face him.
“It was really good to see you.” They’re the most genuine words I feel like I’ve heard in a long time.
He turns quickly, and then he’s gone.