Page 2 of Baby Maker

Unacceptable.

Pressing my palm against the cool metal, I struggle to feel the energy of the man I love. Some semblance that he’s still with me, even if I can’t see or hear him any longer. Just some small assurance that this glorious man isn’t blinked out from existence.

I don’t think I can do this, Nigel. We made a deal, remember? We were going to die holding hands, old and grey. You didn’t hold up your end of the bargain. You left me holding the bag.

“Calliope,” Simon urges, and I wrest my elbow from his grip, huffing with indignation.

“Just go, Simon. I’m not ready to leave him yet.”

“Luv, he isn’t here. You know that. I promised your husband that I’d look after you. You catching your death of cold in the middle of a chilly Manchester spring is not how I accomplish that task. You’re white as a sheet. I know you haven’t eaten a full meal in days. You’re not sleeping.”

“I just lost my husband,” I wail, stepping back from my friend as my heel sinks into the soft earth. “I’m sorry that I’m not giddy with excitement at the idea of living without him. I’m sorry if it puts a kink in your weekend plans.”

Anyone else would smart from my zingers, and there have been a plethora of them lately. My family and friends have been on the receiving end more than once in recent weeks, and some have since granted me a wide berth.

Not Simon. He knows me too well. He knows my defense mechanisms. Right now, I’ve activated every one in my arsenal.

I need them if I’m to survive the next year.

The next month.

The next hour.

His blue eyes regard me, their own depths laced with pain. Nigel’s loss affects him, too. He loved the man that loved me. But he knows there’s only one way to get me to move when I’ve locked in like a mountain goat—sarcasm and brutal honesty.

“Life sucks. Especially right now. And I understand you want to mire down and wallow in it. I applaud your dedication in that quest, Calliope. But you can wallow in a dry location with some food in your stomach. I’ll throw in some whiskey to sweeten the deal.” He pulls me back against him, tucking my head under his chin. “Let’s go toast an amazing man.”

His words may not be pretty, but per usual, they do the trick.

I drag my hand under my nose before offering a small shrug. “I miss him, Simon. It’s only been a week, but it feels like forever.”

His grip tightens, his lips pressing to my hair. “It will get better. Not today and not tomorrow, but it will get better. I promise you. Your heart will heal.”

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