Page 41 of The Best Bad Decision

Fuck, I’m coming.

“Cam,” I breathe, a huff of air leaving my lips.“Fuck.”

I haven’t come once without his name on my lips since that night—a cry, a whisper, a whimper.

And since he left London six weeks ago, I’ve touched myself to thoughts of him every single night.

It takes me a few minutes to come down from the high, and then I feel sick to my stomach. No, not sick.Broken.I feel broken. I miss him. I want him so bad it hurts. How can you miss someone you never truly had? He’s shown me the kind of love I never knew existed, even if it’s not for me. Even if it’s just for Maisy.

I pad across the hall to the bathroom to clean myself up, and I dial Katy’s number as I climb back into bed. Under the safety of my bed covers, I finally break.

“A? What’s up, love, are you okay? Is Maisy okay?” Katy answers the phone. She always picks up, even in the middle of the night.

I’m spiralling. Between the jet lag and the exhaustion, between balancing how much I love my job with how much I miss Maisy when I’m away, between loving the time I spend talking to Cam every night and hating it because I want so much more and it aches deep in my chest. I feel like I’m going insane. I feel torn in so many directions, giving so much to everyone and getting nothing back. I’m supporting people at work and I’m supporting my friends at home, and my well has run dry. For all that I give, some days, it feels like I get nothing back, and there’s nothing left to pour.

And I’m running on empty.

I’m doing everything to push all of this down so it stays away from Maisy—my bright, sweet, sunshine girl—but there’s too much to push down. It’s coming up, whether I want it to or not. It’s bubbling over, a fever pitch, one wrong step off the edge of the tightrope. It’s a lit rocket, rising, rising, until it’s all out of climb and the only thing left is to fall.

The only thing that escapes from my lips is a sob.

“Are you home?”

I nod, heedless of the fact that Katy can’t see me. It doesn’t matter.

“I’m coming over, babe, I’ll be there in a minute.”

She hangs up and I huddle under my duvet, knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around my shins. Nothing has ever hurt like this before.

A few minutes later, I hear a key in the lock and my front door click open and closed, and then the soft padding of Katy’s footsteps on the staircase. She pushes my bedroom door open to find me in the dark. I feel her before I see her as she throws herself onto my bed, wrapping me in her arms and pressing our bodies together in a head-to-toe embrace. I breathe in her sweet orange perfume—the same one she’s worn since we were in school—and its familiarity soothes my soul.

Several more minutes pass by in silence. Katy lies beside me and holds me as the sobs subside to sniffles, and then she speaks.

“What’s going on, A?”

“I—” I hiccup. “I’m so tired, K.”

Katy presses her face into my hair, holding me tighter.

“I want him so bad and I’m so tired. I miss him.”

twenty-four

Amie

“Mama? Aunty K! Youdo a sleepover?”

I wake to Maisy patting my face softly—that’s not unusual. Whatisunusual is the warm, solid mass pressed against me, the blonde waves tickling my nose, and the overwhelming scent of oranges. And then Katy groans and rolls over, snapping her eyes open.

“Hey, Maisy-Pop,” she says tiredly. She’s on her back now, and she pats her belly to invite Maisy up onto the bed. “Come and cuddle with us.”

Maisy needs no invitation. She clambers up onto the bed and flings her entire body between us, knocking the wind from my lungs as she wraps her arms around both of us as tightly as she can.

“Morning Mama,” she whispers into my face.

“Morning, baby girl,” I say. My voice is thick, throat raw. My eyes are scratchy. I wrap both arms around my daughter and pull her as close as I can, nuzzling my nose into her soft hair. “I love you so much, Maisy Mouse.”

“I love you, Mama,” she tells me, giggling as I press my face into her curls. “I love you more than all the clouds in the sky.”

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