Chapter 191 Take care of you

Chapter 191 Take care of you
CALUM
“Things like what? Maybe I can help?” 

“It’s fine,” Cathy replies. Her eyes lift from the feeding bottle and Mace grabs it with both hands. “If I need help, I’ll ask Jason.” 

I stab the pancake, slicing through it so fast and hard I’m certain I’ll cut right through the plate. 

“Of course you will, Cathy.” I chew angrily. I can’t scream at her so the food bears the brunt of my anger. This is not my fault. “You were never one to ask me for help anyway.”

“Because I know better,” she bites back. 

My fork clatters to the table. I push the heels of my palms against my closed eyes. She’s hurting me, and it feels like I’m not allowed to complain because I unknowingly made her go through hell. I open my eyes when I’m in partial control. For Mace’s sake, we owe each other civility. I take another bite from the plate. The pancakes have lost taste, my appetite is gone but I push through. 

“Thanks for breakfast,” I tell her. I’m too sad to meet her gaze, so I keep it on our son. His eyes are closed. He must be having fun. He’s living his best life. Waking, sleeping, eating. Getting everything at his command. I squeeze my knees. “It was lovely, Cathy.” 

No response. 

I clear the table. I still remember the way to the kitchen. Cathy is in the living room with Mace on my return. I stand a foot away from the couch watching them. 

“Do you need me to do anything before I leave?” That’s what my lips say, but my heart is begging her to ask me to stay. “We will need to figure out how to co-parent.” 

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Or you can just let me have him. I’m doing a good job so far.” 

“Yes, you are,” I reply. I sit on the armrest. If I stretch my arm, I will reach her. Will she still react to my neck kisses the same way? I place my hands on my knees to avoid them acting on their own. My body listens to her presence, not my brain. And she doesn’t want us. “But I don’t want you to do it alone anymore. I want us to do it together, Mama Mace.” 

“Amelia,” she breathes out. 

“Yeah.” I brave through my fear and squat in front of her. She allows me to carry Mace out of her arms. “She told me, Mama Mace.” 

Cathy pouts. Fuck. I want to kiss her. I look down at our son and study him. Does she remember the palm reader? My arms begin to hurt from carrying him for too long, and she makes space for me on the couch. 

“You spoke to Amelia,” she whispers. 

“She wrote me a letter,” I reply. 

I look up and catch the hurt that crosses Cathy’s face. “She wrote you a letter?” Her arms go around her waist. All she has to do is ask, and I’ll hug her. I need it more than she does. “She didn’t write me a letter.” 

“Because you were with her every moment.” 

Cathy twists her head, her gaze softer than it was when she verbally attacked me. 

“What did the letter say?” 

“To take care of you,” I murmur.

The vulnerability in her gaze vanishes. She doesn’t do anything physically, but her walls rise back up. 

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” she says in a clipped tone. I don’t let it scare me. I push closer to her. “We are fine. I’m fine.” 

“Even if the letter didn’t say it, I would still want to take care of you, superstar,” I say. 

“Stop calling me that,” she mumbles. 

“You’ll always be my superstar, Cathy.” 

The words are directed at Cathy, but my eyes are on Mace. I draw an invisible circle on his cheek. If only Cathy would look at me with the same adoration he does. Mace is quiet. I flick the pad of my thumb over his nose and he makes a happy sound. 

Why can’t Cathy be this easy to please? 

“I guess that’s why you showed up,” she says. My head raises a little, but I keep my gaze trained on Mace. It’s difficult to feel any emotion different from happiness when staring at him. “Because she asked you to, right? Not because you wanted to be here.” 

“If you think for a moment that I don’t want to be here, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t, Calum.” Mace’s face pinches together. I think he’s about to cry. I would too if I could. “I don’t know you at all.” 

“Can we please stop fighting?” 

“We are not fighting,” she retorts. Her hands open and close, she sighs softly. “I’m just... I cannot just pretend we are fine. We are not going to act like everything goes away because you are here now and wanting to fix things. It doesn’t work that way. I have feelings and they have been hurt for so long your words don’t mean anything anymore.” 

“Catherine.”

“Maybe you should let me have Mace. You have a long career ahead of you. You will travel but I’ll be in this house. So, let me have him. You get to visit. You can call.” 

“Why can’t we both have him, Cathy? I don’t want to coparent, I want everything. I want you and Mace.” Cathy yawns. At this point, I’ll have more luck talking to a tree. She reclines on the armrest so that she can watch Mace better. I try a different tactic. “Maybe you should join me on the tour.”

“Of course. It’s always about you.” 

“You have a beautiful voice that should be shared with the world. That’s the truth.” 

“Sounds like an excuse to drag me around because of course, everything must go your way.”

“You are breaking my heart, Cathy.” 

“That would only be fair,” she says. Her eyes meet mine, trapping me in the depths of their beauty and pain. “You broke mine first, even if it was unintentionally.”

“You should see a therapist.” Annoyance flashes across her face and I quickly fix up by saying, “Amelia thinks you should see one. And I agree with her. You have so much pent up anger that you need to expel.” 

Anger that shouldn’t be directed towards me. Cathy jumps to her feet. With a polite smile, she retrieves our son from my arms.

I’m almost certain she will work away, but she doesn’t. Fake smile intact, she tells me, “Amelia is dead. Dead people don’t think.”