Page 17 of Because of Her

Deciding I’m not finished with the massage, I wiggle my feet, inviting him to continue. But instead, he tickles my soles, causing me to shriek. Lurching backwards I pull my feet out of his grasp.

Amira slaps her hand on the table as she stands. “Oh, girl.” She laughs. “I was right when I said it would be an interesting few weeks.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning a lot of things.”

Pushing herself to a stand, she mocks a bow and starts walking out. “I’m off,” she yells over her shoulder.

“Now?”

“Yes now.”

“Don’t forget your—”

“Coat, yes, I won’t forget my coat,” she finishes for me as she pulls a black jacket off the hook. “Have fun, don’t wait up!”

Callum and I sit, the ticking of the clock and the occasional car horn from outside the only sound between us. He stretches his arms behind his head and leans back with a sigh.

“I’m pretty sure that was my coat,” I blurt out to fill the silence, at the same time he says, “So you swore off men?”

Shifting my legs, I hug them to my chest. “Yeah,” I whisper, feeling childish about the oath. Talking about it with the man I considered breaking it for feels unnecessary, and highly embarrassing.

Callum’s mouth falls thin and soft lines form between his brows. When he shifts, part of me expects him to leave, but instead he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

He drops his head, running both hands through his hair.

“Okay,” he says, although he doesn’t sound convinced. It comes out as almost a squeak, and he hasn’t looked up. “I mean.” He clears his throat, “Cool. That’s cool.”

Laughing, I try to relax my legs.

“Yeah,” I respond, although the air still feels static, “until the right guy comes along of course.”

“Fair.” He chokes on his breath as he tilts his head to the side before pushing himself to stand. “I should go.”

In only a few strides he has one foot in the hall. “Tell Amira thanks for the meal?”

“Sure.” My heart cracks, wondering why he feels the need to rush off. There’s no reason me swearing off men should ruin the friendship that is fast re-forming between me and Callum.

He gave me advice when the coolest boy in my high school grade took me to formal, and I stood by him when he nervously told me he wanted to ask out his neighbour. Why should our friendship now be any different?

“Goodnight,” I call out.

“Night.”

CALLUM

Maisie sobs against my leg on the doorstep of what was once my family home, and it’s taking all I have not to fall to my knees and cry with her. I don’t want to say goodbye either. The past couple of weeks have been beyond difficult. Knowing I won’t see her for another seven days weighs my limbs down like concrete. Sure, there are men, and women, out there who don’t see their kids for varying chunks of time. And sure, they make it work and somehow get through their days without crumbling. But my foundations are sinking, and I don’t know how much longer I can sustain this.

Maisie and I spent so much time together. I worked from home when she was younger; when Audrey returned to work part time and had to be onsite. Somehow, I managed to juggle my career and caring for a toddler. It was tough, but we made it work. I grew so used to Maisie being around. It was hard enough when she started kindergarten earlier in the year, but nothing compares to not seeing her throughout the week.

I don’t want to leave her here and return to my apartment. It feels too clinical through the week. Bitterly quiet despite the traffic sounds that waft in through the windows. It stays too tidy and my workdays are too uninterrupted. There is a giant Maisie sized hole in my life.

“I want to take Maisie to see my parents next Saturday,” Audrey announces after we manage to peel Maisie off me and settle her in front of the TV.

Leaning her weight on to one leg and placing a hand onher popped hip, Audrey’s tone has an odd flare. It’s like she threw a concrete slab at my chest, and she knows how off guard I was when it hit me. I take a step back, rubbing my fist against my breastbone in a futile attempt to ease the tension.

“What?”

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