Chapter 184 Lies and more lies

Chapter 184 Lies and more lies
Dad is 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?  

“What will you do?” Dad asks. 

“I don’t know,” I reply. 

Mace blinks at me. I rock his foot until his eyes fall close and his breathing evens out. We need to leave. I checked an hour ago, Jason’s car is gone and Dad volunteered to drive me home. 

“You should make up your mind,” Dad says behind me. I scoop Mace out of his chair. Dad 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. “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’s keys jingle. He grabs the foldable rocking chair and the things I travelled with, and I follow silently behind him. He opens the backseat door for me and I step in. 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 didn’t tell me where he was and the email said he had moved on and...  

My eyes close. The fight of today and the stress of the last few weeks rolls into one and explodes into me. My head falls back. I am lost in my own world with my thoughts for company until Dad’s car jerks to a stop.

Amelia’s car sits in front of the house. We used to take turns driving it because she was against me buying mine. Maybe she knew she wouldn’t be driving it for long. I step out of the car before Dad walks over to open the door for me. He grabs our things while I start for the front door. I haven’t been here since... since she 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. Stopping in front of the door, my brain slows. I retrieve the house keys but forget how to use them. Dad gently pushes me to the side and pries the key from my shaky hands. The click of the door rings through my head. Dad goes in first. I delay to follow him. The whole place is as I left it. Dad unfolds Mace’s chair so I can put him inside. I stand in the middle of the living room and close my eyes. It’s as if she’s still here, that I can feel her presence. 

“Will you be okay on your own?” Dad asks. His voice sounds close but my eyes stay shut. I don’t want to return to reality. When he taps my shoulder, I nod. “I’ll be back later to check in. Need to sort out a few things.” 

“Okay.” 

I feel his lips pressing to my forehead but I don’t register anything. “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. His eyes are as tired as mine. “There’s no limit to the number of times you can cry, Cathy. It’s been years but I still grieve your mother.” 

“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 escapes me. He will have to leave me soon. “I’ll whip up a meal for you, okay? You need your strength.”  

No. I need to forget.

“Okay,” slips out of my lips. 

Dad’s footsteps fade away once he enters the kitchen. 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. But I don’t possess the strength to pick it up. 

She’s dead. 

I stagger to Mace’s crib and stare at the boy 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 settle down on the floor, knees drawn up to my chest as I watch him. Emotions swim inside me, I sway, telling myself to calm down but my chest closes in on me. 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 a brat.

The more I stare at his crib, the bigger the image of him being ripped from me grows.  It sucks me into this dark bubble and alienates me from my reality. When I hear something that sounds like a child’s cry, I stare morosely at my son’s crib. The voice 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. “Shut up! You’re going to go to your daddy, aren’t you? You’re going to leave me. You’re going to call me a bad mama and you won’t be wrong.” 

“Cathy? Catherine?” 

Someone grabs my shoulders. I look up at my father peering down at me with worried eyes. I point to the crib. Mace is still crying.

“Dad? Mace is crying. Tell him to shut up.” 

My father goes on one knee as he inspects my face. “Are you okay, Cathy? Talk to me.” 

“I’m fine. Maybe. I don’t know.” 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 floor and the tears pour down my cheeks. Dad’s arms tighten around me but I can’t stop shaking. I want to die. “Why does everyone always leave me? What’s wrong with me, Dad?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” 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. The ache is permanent. Mum left. Calum left. Amelia left. Mace will also leave me. I’ll be alone. 

I try to peel Dad’s arms off me but his grip turns to vise. Banging my feet against the door, I scream, “Let me go. I want to go!” 

“Go where?” 

My chest rises and falls. Silent tears roll out of my eyes. Another cry tears 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 reduces. 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 arms before I can hit him. Pulling me flush against his chest, he hugs me so tight, like he can absorb the darkness inside me.

“Breathe for me, Cathy,” he whispers, his fingers running in circles around my lower back. “Everything will be okay, I promise.” 

“Liar,” I manage to 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, okay?” 

“Cathy.” 

“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 no longer crying. I try to stand but I can’t push myself up. Calum notices and sweeps me into his arms. I try to protest but my punches are weak. Someone gives him directions to my room. We start moving 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 soft surface. My bed. 

Turning my back to him, I curl into a ball and whisper, “You can leave now. Bye.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Cathy.” 

“Go,” I whisper-yell. But the fight has left my voice.

“Nope. I’m stuck with you.” 

The bed dips with Calum’s weight, and his finger runs across my cheek in a straight line. 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 gown. I glare at him but he chuckles.

“Come on, Cathy. Cuddle? Please.”

If I say yes, then those months he left never meant anything. But I’m so exhausted. He sighs. I lift my hands for him to take off my gown. I’m only in my underwear when he pulls off his clothes, leaving only his boxers on. 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 bone for a kiss. 

“You need to talk to someone, Cathy.” I am talking to him, am I not? He’s in my bed. He’s in my house, my space. “You need help, Superstar. Professional help.” 

“Of course I need help. Anyone will need help if they have to deal with you as their baby daddy.” 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 inch higher up to my neck, he litters kisses up to my ear. “We can fight about that later, go to sleep. I’ll be here, I promise.” 

I lie unmoving in his arms. He places a hand over mine and squeezes. “I promise, Cathy. I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep.” 

This time I believe him, and my body succumbs to his voice.