“Y—yeah,” I stammer.What is wrong with you, Amie?“I guess we can do that.”
“There’s so much we don’t know—so much we missed. We, uh—we didn’t exactly talk much in Singapore,” he chuckles. “And I was kinda outta my head in London with meeting Maisy…”
“Sure,” I say. “You wanna go first?”
“When’s your birthday?”
That one is easy.
“February tenth,” I answer. “Quid pro quo, Captain. You ask it, you answer it.”
“June twenty-third,” he chuckles again. A summer baby.Fuck me, the deep rumble of his laugh has that throbbing intensifying. I remember the way he chuckled whenhe—
“It’s your turn, honey,” he says, and the way his voice drips likeactual honey…I clench my thighs and try to come up with another question.
“What’s your biggest fear?”
Maybe thinking of scary things will settle my inner horndog.
“Needles,” he says without hesitation.Huh.“What’s yours?”
“Losing Maisy,” I say honestly. Before Maisy, I didn’t know fear. I sailed through life happily avoiding the hard stuff; I was a daughter to a healthy mother, my best friends were the best girls you could ever meet, my job was easy in spite of the hard work—but since that little girl barrelled into my life like a tiny tornado, the fear is oppressive and all-consuming; it suffocates my every waking moment. I feel it every day.
My life is split in two now: Before Maisy and After Maisy. Before Maisy—back in the days when I was justAmie—is dull; all muffled sounds and monochrome but with a sense of liberty I never realised until After Maisy. After Maisy brought the advent of surround sound and Technicolor, and with it, the sudden paralysis of the ties and fears that bind.
She is the single greatest thing I’ve ever done—easily the very best thing about me—and I’d lay down my life in a heartbeat for that little girl. I’ve lived three years content in knowing without a doubt that I’d step in front of a bullet for her. For three years, it’s been me and Maisy, Maisy and me—the two of us against the world. The fear of losing her, of one day having no one to take a bullet for?That’swhat scares me more than anything else.
Before I know it, more than an hour has passed by. I’ve learned that Cam hates chocolate, he listens to sad-boy country music, and that his best friend from high school is in the army and currently stationedin Germany, where he lives with his German wife, Caroline—which Cam pronounces asCaro-lee-nuh. His favourite colour is the blue of the midnight sky. He was learning to fly before he was old enough to learn to drive. It’s the only thing he ever wanted to do. He’s still in his uniform and we’re both yawning through the screen, but we’ve had the easiest conversation I’ve had with anyone but Katy for a long time.
“Crap, I gotta go,” he says, stretching again. “I gotta shower and get some food before I sleep. Same time tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’ll be here,” I say with a soft smile. He ends the call and I sit for another minute, smiling at the blank screen, before turning the lights off, dumping my empty mug in the sink, and heading up to bed.
fifteen
Cam
Calling Maisy at bedtimeis easily the highlight of my day. I had no idea that I could feel so much for someone—anyone—let alone a tiny toddler.
A tiny toddler I’ve only just met, but launched herself straight into the very core of me.
Leaving her in London is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. In less than a week, the idea ofmy daughterhas become something very real and tangible. No longer abstract but a small human who loves wildly and unconditionally, and who accepted me into her world with no hesitation, no fanfare, no questions—just pure, three-year-old innocence. In just a few days, she went from a concept to someone very real, someone who plucked my heart from my chest and embodied it fully.
Saying goodbye—at Amie’s house, because the airport would’ve been too much—broke her heart and mine, and even Amie was teary-eyed as I stepped into the cab to leave. I miss them both with a ferocity I never anticipated.
Not a day has gone by since that night in Singapore when I haven’t thought about the beautiful brunette who turned my world upside down. I haven’t looked twice at another woman since, and honestly, I haven’t wanted to. She ruined me for anyone else that night. Spendingfive days with her in London, learning how smart she is, how thoughtful and loving, seeing what an incredible mother she is to our daughter… it made me want her in my life as more than just a co-parent. I want her in my life asAmie—mother, daughter, friend.Mine. She’s everything I ever could’ve imagined loving.
But I can’t.
Last night, when she asked me what my biggest fear was, I said needles without thinking. I’ve always had a phobia—the hyperventilating, sweaty palms, clammy skin, on the verge of throwing up-kind of phobia. It has the medics laughing every time I show up for my medical and they have to take blood, because they can’t believe that a grown man—tall, broad, perfectly capable of understanding that a small, medical needle won’t hurt me—could be so deathly afraid of a tiny, sharp scrap of metal.
Except, when Amie told me her biggest fear was losing Maisy, my blood ran cold and turned to slush in my veins. My mouth dried out, my stomach fell like a brick all the way down to my ass, and I couldn’t breathe with the thought of losing that tiny little whirlwind. I didn’t even want to leave her behind in London. I don’t know how to make everything work if I leave the US—but I think I owe it to her, and to myself, to look into it.
I’ve known Maisy all of eight days now, and suddenly she’s my greatest love and deepest fear, my whole heart outside my body. She’s all of me, all of Amie, all at once.
And I’ll be damned if I let her go even one more minute of her life without knowing she’s loved by her momandher dad.
sixteen