Page 25 of Because of Them

I do like the idea of having some more flexibility when the baby comes though. And painting. Painting unleashes a part of me that is otherwise held back. The part where I ignore the rules and the colour theory and I paint outside the thirds or go straight in with the paint, not worrying about sketching first. It’s freeing, when I think and act that way. Maybe I need to take the same mentality with the rest of my life.

Picking up on my silent contemplation, Cassidy pats my leg before standing up.

“You don’t have to decide now, but you deserve to be thrilled about what you do for a living,” she says as she turns away toward a group of adults near the door.

“Wait,” I call out before she is too far away and she pivots back to face me with a grin. “I’ll do your painting.”

“Yes! I knew you would.” Her grin pushes into her cheeks and she lifts her hand in a small fist to pump the air before turning back to Callum and the other couples he is standing with.

They all step aside to welcome Cassidy into their circle and I long to be included. I know that I probably could be, too. But small talk grates on me, and lately everything has been feeling a hundred times worse.

I adjust my legs underneath the chair and reach a hand behind my back so I can use the seat to push myself up. I hate to think how heavy and exhausted I’m going to feel as the months go on. I’ve barely started my second trimester and I’m alreadystruggling to stand. I blame the dancing, but wish I had someone here to help me all the same.

No, actually. Because as soon as the thought materialises, I realise it’s a lie. I don’t wish I hadanyoneto help me get up. I wish Michael was here to help me. Because he would, and I wouldn’t even have to ask. As soon as I finally told him about the baby, he has been nothing but supportive and kind. After he got over the initial shock, of course.

But since then, he’s been cautious without being overbearing.

I hadn’t thought about inviting him. Maisie never asked about him coming, and it hadn’t even crossed my mind that he might want to be here. And I hate myself for that. Because now we are about to watch our little kindergarten kid walk across an imaginary stage and collect her little certificate. It’s all for show, but I feel beyond terrible that I didn’t give Michael the choice to be here. All the uncertainty aside, he is part of this family now, which makes me not inviting him so much messier.

The music fades back to a lull, but this time the lights stay dimmed as one of the party hosts hands Maisie’s teacher a microphone.

It hits me, finally, that my little baby will be in school next year. Sure, she has a few more months of kinder, but the whole idea with having graduation so early was to celebrate before all the kids went off for school orientations on different days. The last few months of the year always pass so quickly anyway, but I don’t know how we have flown so swiftly into the next stage of Maisie’s life. But we have. And I’m about to start it all over again.

The thoughts swirl and spiral against the mix of emotions that were already brewing. I smile through the presentation, hugging Maisie after she skips back to me with her certificate. I pose for photos, lips turned up, cheeks puffy with my exaggerated grin. But all the while, I’m somehow missingMichael and I’m worried what I’m falling into is going to mess everything up.

Even more than it already has.

AUDREY

The driveway is full. Another car is parked on the nature strip and a third sits in front of the neighbour’s garden. I hadn’t realised Callum and Cassidy had invited this many people to their housewarming. But then again, I’m here, so I should have expected the invitations to be wide reaching.

I’m still getting used to the whole concept of being friends with Callum. We share so much history, and our daughter, that the change in status from married couple to casual friends is jarring. It’s weirder still for me to feel so close to Cassidy. But something clicked between us the day I opened up to her about the pregnancy, and every moment since then I’ve found myself leaning on her for moral support more and more.

“Will Cassidy be at Daddy’s new house too?” Maisie asks from her place in the back seat.

I steer the car into the driveway to turn around and park across the street.

Michael unbuckles his seat belt, twisting around to face Maisie. “Isn’t it your new house too?”

Her grin somehow reaches her ears as she bounces in the seat, waiting for me to reach over and unbuckle her harness. I twist my body uncomfortably, trying to reach. I wince as a sharp pain shoots up my spine at the unnatural way I’m trying to bend it.

“I’ve got it.” Michael places one hand on my arm and stretches the other behind us to let Maisie out.

The weight of his fingers presses into the soft flesh below my shoulder. I shudder at the unexpected feeling that spreads from his touch. It’s laced with intimacy and care but charged with an explosive tension. I want to see what other feelings his touch could draw out of me. But I can’t. Not here, not now. Not while I’m sure this attraction is being heightened by the hormones. Not with the way I know it will only make this whole situation messier. Not until I’m sure we could be something more than an easy—but incredible—fuck.

“It is my new house!” Maisie declares as she jumps out of her seat and tugs at her door handle. “Ugh, child lock,” she moans when it won’t open.

Michael’s hand squeezes my arm as he holds in a laugh. “I still can’t believe you didn’t invite me to her graduation party.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he lifts one corner of his mouth up in a playful smirk. We’ve been through this, and the joke is starting to get old, but he keeps telling it anyway. My body curls in on itself and I force my shoulders to stop rolling forward. I push them back instead. Sitting up straight I glare at Michael with every ounce of apathy I can muster.

“It was two weeks ago. Will you please drop it?”

“Why didn’t you invite Michael to the party Mummy?” Maisie’s head pops between Michael and me. She climbs over the centre console and into my lap. I hold back a wince when she presses her knee into my stomach.

“It’s because I told her I was busy,” Michael says before I can answer. “She had no way of knowing I would cancel my plans to celebrate with you.”

Is he … is he taking the heat for me? The air in the car grows warm, then hot as Michael’s hand rests on my knee.

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