Chapter 10
TEN
Bryson
She’s been here with Aria for almost two weeks now, and it’s scary how easy it feels, having them around. They fit here with me. Not literally, this place is far too small for a pushchair, cot, and change table, but emotionally, they fit. Even damaged, scared and sensitive.
I’m dreading the day they leave. It’s going to feel so empty without Sophia’s singing while she cleans, and Aria’s babbling every waking minute.
I think part of me had assumed this would be my life one day, at least it’s what I always hoped. Me, Sophia, and a baby. That we’d finally get together one day, more than just a silly kiss at a party, and that we’d spend our lives together. That we’d get a house… have a family. Maybe that’s why it feels so natural to me. This is my dream.
I know that this isn’t what this situation is at all, that Sophia is traumatised and essentially hiding from the world here, and truthfully, we barely know one another, but still. It feels sort of nostalgic somehow.
Aria is the light of every day. And while I don’t doubt that being such a young mother is hard, I don’t know how Sophia would have gotten through all of this if it weren’t for Aria. She’s kept her going. Her bright smile could thaw out even the most horrible situation.
The only person who Sophia has told where she is, is a friend of hers, Cat, who I’d never seen before. She’s a police officer and she calls around to the house to check in at least three times a week.
I like her. She seems like she cares about Sophia and Aria almost as much as I do.
I don’t listen into their conversations when they talk, but I couldn’t help but overhear some comments that make me think that Cat might have pointed Sophia in the right direction at the right time to keep her safe from this mess. I’d never suggest it, or say anything, but if she did give Soph enough of a heads up to clue her in and for her to get out of there, then she’s got my respect, and my gratitude.
Anyone who looks out for them is alright by me .
Cat’s been here for about an hour this time, the girls are out the back in the sun, talking. I think I even heard some laughter earlier.
I’m carefully trying to follow a recipe I found for a chocolate cake, when I realise I’m not alone. Cat has come in from outside, and is slinging her bag across her shoulder like she’s heading out.
“You leaving?”
She smiles at me. “Yeah, I’ve got to take off and get my son.”
“You won’t get to try the cake.” I frown at the recipe as I try to remember if I added two cups of flour or three. “Maybe that’s for the best actually, I’m pretty sure I’m fucking it up.”
She laughs.
“Thanks for coming. She’s always happier after you visit.”
“I’m glad. She seems to be getting better every time I stop by. She’s been through so much,” she says, her expression saddening.
Sophia still hasn’t opened up to me about what she experienced at the hands of that no good piece of shit. I only know what she told me the day I got her out of there – that he hits her. She hasn’t elaborated further and I haven’t pushed the issue.
Maybe she’s talking to Cat about it. I just hope she’ll open up to someone, some time.
“Any new updates?”
I’m kind of wary of sticking my nose in, but Cat doesn’t seem at all bothered by the question .
“Probably nothing you don’t already know. Joshua, his uncle, and his cousin, and about half a dozen other guys are all still being held in custody until they go to court. If they plead guilty then they’ll just go for sentencing, if they try and say they’re not guilty, then there will be a trial.”
“What do you think will happen?”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure. There’s potential some of them might get offered a deal in exchange for giving evidence against Josh’s uncle. I really don’t know what might happen, it’s all lawyers and court rooms now, and I don’t know enough about how that all works.”
“Josh won’t walk free though, will he?”
That’s the only real fear I have at the moment. That Josh will somehow manage to get out of this situation and he’ll make life hell for Sophia and Aria. She’s got a restraining order now, but that bit of paper won’t stop someone from giving you the bash if it really comes down to it. It’ll just send them to prison afterwards.
“Nah, I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening. Maybe he might be able to negotiate a lesser sentence if he’s willing to give information they can’t get elsewhere. It’s not my department, but you guys will be the first to know if I hear anything.”
I don’t like all of the unknowns in this, but I have to keep reminding myself that I can’t do anything about it. Sophia and Aria aren’t mine. They’re not something I can hide away and protect.
The worst could happen. Anything could happen. Josh could get out, and him and Sophia could get back together, and there’s not a single god damn thing I could do about it.
“She’s going to be fine, Bryson. I can tell. And a big part of that is thanks to you.”
I huff out something indecipherable. I’m not comfortable with praise.
She laughs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
She waves me off without another word, and I’m grateful for it. I’m all talked out.
I get back to work on the cake mix, and I’m pretty sure I’ve made at least six mistakes with it, but I pour it into a tin and shove it in the oven anyway. Maybe some of it might wind up being edible.
I’ve just realised that I’ll have to make icing too, and I’m cursing myself for ever thinking this was a good idea, when Sophia comes back inside with Aria on her hip.
She’s got some colour in her cheeks and a soft smile on her face. She looks beautiful. She looks like the girl I remember from school. The one whose life wasn’t weighed down by drugs and abuse. The one who would smile without realising when she read a book. She looks like the girl I was obsessed with.
She’s still in there .
I think Cat was right, maybe she is going to be okay.
“How’s the cake going?” She’s got an amused expression on her face.
I glance at the oven nervously. “That remains to be seen.”
She wanders into the kitchen and walks right up to me. “You’ve got flour on your cheek.”
I can feel Aria lightly whacking my arm, but I don’t look at her. I can’t take my eyes off Sophia’s hand as it moves towards my face and lightly brushes my cheek. I want to lean into her touch so badly, but she doesn’t need that right now.
I know my place, and it’s supportive, but at arm’s length.
I can’t risk ruining this for her. She needs me in the right way. I can’t let her down by letting my feelings get in the way.
Our eyes lock as her thumb lingers on my skin. “That’s better,” she says quietly.
I clear my throat and look down at Aria to distract me. “Let’s hope this thing is edible, baby girl,” I tell her as I tickle her side.
She laughs and squirms in Sophia’s arms.
She steps back from me, so we’re not toe to toe, as she smiles at her daughter.
“Hey would you watch a movie with me later?”
“What’s the movie?”
“I can’t remember the name, it’s saved on my phone. I saw the trailer and I really want to watch it, but it’s a thriller and I’m too scared to watch it by myself.”
I’m surprised how enthusiastic she seems about this. I’m saying yes before I can even think about it.
“Yay!” She pushes up onto the balls of her feet in excitement. “We’ll put it on tonight after Aria goes to sleep. I promise I won’t need to hide behind you or anything, but you might have to hold my hand in the scary bits.”
Perfect .
Just the two of us, alone, cosied up on the couch.
That’s bound to help me keep my feelings in check.
“Come on, Bryson, it’s about to start,” Sophia calls from the couch.
I feel like a teenager on his first date. Not that I’m deluded enough to think this is a date, but the nerves feel the same.
“Popcorn is almost done.”
I grab it from the microwave when it beeps, and pour it into a bowl.
I take that, and the cake – still in the tin, to the couch with two forks.
I set them down on the coffee table and see her eyeing the ‘cake’, suspiciously. She raises a brow at me.
“Don’t ask,” I mutter.
I see her bite back a laugh. “I think I have to.”
I drag my fingers through my hair.
“I mean it looks really good… but why didn’t you take it out of the tin?”
An excellent question.
Because I’m a moron.
I look between the ‘cake’, and the woman next to me for a few moments. “It won’t come out. I didn’t know I had to grease it.”
I have to give her credit, the self-control she’s showing by holding in her laugh is impressive.
“So it’s like, just stuck in there?” She scrunches up her nose.
“You’ll find it is stuck like shit to a blanket, yes.”
She bites back a laugh.
She picks up one of the forks and pokes at the middle of the cake with it. She must seem satisfied with whatever test that was, because she scoops out a forkful and shoves it straight in her mouth.
I don’t know if she’s brave or stupid.
I can’t imagine it’s going to be the best-tasting thing she’s ever eaten.
I watch in horror as she chews it slowly, rolling it around her mouth before swallowing.
She looks like she finds the expression on my face funny.
“You look scared.”
“I am scared,” I reply gruffly. “Never baked a cake before.”
“Well I like it,” she tells me as she goes back for another forkful. “And maybe I prefer to eat it like this anyway. Who needs a greased tin?”
I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my lips.
She likes my cake.
She passes me the other fork, and then the cake, and settles down into the couch to watch the movie that’s just starting.
I stare at her for a bit before tasting the cake myself. She wasn’t lying, it actually tastes pretty good. The icing has lumps in it, and I don’t know if the cake is overcooked, but I’ve eaten worse. Not bad for a rookie.
I can tell about thirty minutes into the movie that she’s going to lose sleep if she sees it through to the end. She’s gasped about sixteen times, and the blanket she’s covered herself with has crept higher and higher – it’s right up under her chin now.
I chuckle as she covers her eyes and then splits her fingers to look through the gaps.
She’s so much more entertaining to me than the film on the screen.
“I think he’s a murderer, I’m calling it now,” she whispers.
I’ve become aware that she’s the type of person who tries to guess the ends of movies, who asks me questions when I’ve watched the exact same parts she has, and who obsessively looks up members of the cast on the internet because they were in some other movie and she can’t think which one .
I’m fairly sure she googled the plot summary of a movie she was in the process of watching the other day.
I’m not sure if she knows she’s doing it, but every time there’s anything even slightly suspenseful, she edges a bit closer to me, clutching her blanket tighter.
She’s virtually pressed right up against my side now, her dark eyes wide.
There’s no way she could have handled watching this on her own, as it is, I bet she’ll be up for hours. It’s not even scary, but Sophia has managed to hold onto a little bit of her child-like innocence. I guess being scared of movies is one area where she hasn’t been forced to grow up.
She jumps and clutches my arm as the villain appears.
“Are you okay?” I murmur, looking down at her in amusement.
It seems to catch her off guard that she’s plastered to my side.
“Oh my gosh, sorry,” she says in a rush.
“That’s okay.” I pat her hand that’s still grasping my bicep.
She tries to scoot away, but I hold her in place. “It’s okay, honestly.”
She nods and leans back into me, and it’s at that moment I realise I’ve made a huge mistake. She’s so close, I can smell her. Her hair, her skin, her perfume, she’s looking up at me and our lips are only the tilt of a head apart.
Fuck I want to kiss those lips.
But I’m not am impulsive man. I swore I’d never be the kind of man to get caught up in a moment. That I’d never do things I knew I shouldn’t.
This is one of those things.
Her breathing is laboured, and neither one of us is paying any attention to the movie anymore.
We’re locked in a standoff.
My mind is at war with itself, looking for any way I can close that gap and make my mouth meet hers without throwing my morals out the window, but I can’t. I just can’t.
It seems she can, though.
She lifts her chin, her lips searching for mine.
Maybe I can.
It’d be so simple.
Fuck. No Bryson. No.
I pull away abruptly.
“Soph… I can’t ,” I breathe. I can’t, but I want to so fucking badly. More than I’ve wanted anything else in a long time.
She looks shocked, hurt. “But I thought…”
Fuck. I hate this. I hate that it’s so right, but so wrong. She looks broken and rejected and it’s the last thing I want her to feel, but I can’t do this with her right now. She’s too vulnerable, it’d only end up killing us both .
“I know.” I exhale deeply and run my hand through my hair. “And you thought right , but I can’t. Not like this.”
“I don’t understand.” Her bottom lip has a slight wobble to it, and it’s breaking me, being the cause of her pain.
I don’t know when being the bigger man started to make me feel so small.
“You mean too much to me for it to go like this. You need to heal, or what we could have would always be tainted with pieces of him.”
She’s not even listening to what I’m saying, I can see the disassociation written all over her face. All she’s heard is rejection, nothing else I could tell her would reach her, not really. I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything to help her after this. She’s only going to feel bad about herself around me.
I sigh heavily, already hating myself for what I know needs to come next. “I think maybe it’s time you went to your parents’.”
“You’re kicking me out?” She gapes at me.
God, I feel like such a prick for the way the tears are pooling in her eyes. I’m making a bad situation worse, but it’s for the greater good.
I might not have much to show for myself, but I do have my honour.
“I’m not kicking you out, I just think it would be best if you didn’t stay here long term.”
All of a sudden she realises how close she still is to me, and she pushes herself backwards, trying awkwardly to get some space between us.
She stares at me, wide eyed for a few beats before she seems to snap out of it and stand up to her feet.
“Sure, of course. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… me and Aria, we’re imposing… we can get sorted tomorrow and get out of your way. It’s probably time I called my parents anyway, right?” She tries to pull off a laugh and fails. It sounds forced and fake.
“Sophia, you don’t have to go right–”
“It’s okay,” she interrupts me. “I think it’s probably best we rip off the band aid sooner rather than later.”
I nod my head slowly.
“I’m going to go to bed.” She walks quickly away from the couch, but pauses in the doorway. “Thank you for watching the movie with me.”
It’s not even finished yet, but the whole thing is ruined. I’ll have to live without knowing whatever tragic end is going to come to these terrible actors.
“Sophia?”
She turns and looks back at me, but she’s too slow to wipe the miserable look off her face, I see a flash of it before it’s gone.
“I’m really sorry.”
She gives me a tight smile and then she’s gone, leaving me alone, questioning why I just turned down everything I’ve ever wanted.