Page 25 of Because of Her

Now, he is nothing more than the guy who lives across the hall. Who I used to work with many years ago and who occasionally comes over for beers. The guy who, sure, I’m still insanely attracted to, but whom I don’t actually know all that much about.

CALLUM

Idrop to my knees on the porch, collecting Maisie as she runs out of the house and barrels into me. I scoop her into my arms, lifting her off the floor and somehow keeping my balance as I stand. Audrey holds her arm out to steady me. The gesture feels kind, friendly in a way she hasn’t shown in the past few weeks. Months, really.

“How was Nanna and Poppy’s?” I ask Maisie.

Her high-pitched squeal hurts my ears. Good, I think that means.

“She missed you though.” Audrey gestures for me to come in, so I step across the threshold before placing Maisie down.

“Go get Pavlova,” I tell her. She skips off through the house to find her favourite doll.

The click of the kettle sounds from where Audrey has made her way to the kitchen.

“Tea?” she calls out through the house.

The photos along the hall have been removed, replaced with artsy landscape pictures of wide sweeping fields. The array of navy pillows on the couch in the living room are gone, shades of pink in their place. Everywhere I look, I notice the small changes Audrey has made. All the little ways she has turned our old house into a place that’s uniquely hers. I don’t blame her, but it feels … odd.

I walk toward the kitchen, the hairs on the back of my neck standing tall. Since I moved out, Audrey has never so much as asked if I wanted to come inside, let aloneoffer me tea. Every instinct tells me she is up to something. She already swapped the one day I got to see Maisie this week. I refuse to let her get away with something like that again.

We sit at the table we used to share, drinking tea out of mugs that were once ours. Now, they’re just Audrey’s, even the dragon mug she got me for a birthday many years ago. She never asked if I wanted it back, but now I’m using it to warm my hands again, I realise I don’t. It feels tainted, like most of the memories in this house.

I’m ready to fight my case, to tell her we’ll go to court, when she catches me by surprise.

“You were right.”

Looking up at Audrey, I give her pause to continue. She could be talking about almost anything, and it’s unlike her to start by admitting she is wrong.

Taking a long sip from her floral mug, Audrey slurps at the hot liquid before smacking her lips together. “Maisie deserves to see you more. Even though it will kill me to be away from her.”

“It kills me to be away from her.”

“I know. But honestly, I don’t care about you. I care about Maisie.”

Her words don’t hurt the way I think she intended. I don’t need her to care for me. I drink my tea, hoping the warmth will slow the rapid beating of my pulse. I think of all the places I want to take Maisie now we will have more time. About how much more homely my little apartment will feel, and how I should probably start looking for a house again. One with a backyard for Maisie to play. Maybe I’ll even get her a dog.

I can see it playing out in my head, and I drink my tea as I contemplate my new life. I hadn’t realised my eyes were closed, but when Cassidy shows up in my daydream I throw them open.

“We’ll start with a weekend? Give her time to settle. Next week.” Audrey’s voice adds another layer of fuel to the firepit in my stomach.

I gulp at my tea, hoping to smother the flames. I need to focus on right now, not an imaginary scenario. But I can’t erase Cassidy from my thoughts. I can’t escape the feel of her weight on my lap, or the taste of her tongue. I can still feel the tingle in my lips from where her teeth bit down in excitement. Kissing Cassidy so soon was a mistake, but I can’t take it back. I can only make it right. And to do that, I need to sort my own life out.

Audrey has given me a thread, and I intend to pull it.

“I want to take her to that ballet exhibit.” My shoulders tense and the warm liquid in my gut boils as I think about the next part to what I’m about to say.

“Okay.” Audrey taps her fingers on her mug.

“I want to take someone.”

The tapping stops. I can hear every forced breath Audrey takes.

“An old friend, my neighbour. I don’t want to take her like a date, but I think she would like it, too.”

“Not a date,” Audrey repeats.

I nod.

---