Page 72 of Because of Them

“Can we make this quick?” I ask, taking a hint of my frustration out on my mate. It’s not his fault we happened to plan this meeting to be the day after the boys could finally come home. It’s not his fault I didn’t have the foresight to reschedule after the hospital told us the news. What’s done is done, though, and I want to get this over with as soon as I can.

“How the fuck did I get stuck running your site?”

“Because you’re the one who convinced me to run the big hotel site. Blame yourself.”

Glaring at him, I turn towards the building site. My building site. Audrey’s home. “Come on, I want to get through this walkthrough, so I can go see Noah about the hotel and then get back to Audrey.” The other meeting I stupidly planned and ignorantly didn’t think to reschedule.

“Is she at the hospital with the boys?”

“She’s at home,” I snap. “With the boys.”

Brendan’s mouth drops open. The folder in his hand threatens to fall to the ground as his grip loosens. “When did they come home?”

“Yesterday. So, I’d really like to get back there.”

“We could have done this another day.”

I shake my head, stalking past Brendan to let Baxter down from the tray. He bounds through the mud towards the exterior of the property. It’s dirty, like any job site, with mud splattered on the windows and dust covering the panelling. But it’s stunning. The facade is the perfect blend of modern and historical, giving a cute cottage vibe without feeling like it belongs to a grandma. The patio wraps around the perimeter of the house, but the railing is a cleaner, modern take on a picket fence with clean posts and long horizontal bars.

“I don’t want to delay the build.”

Brendan scoffs something that sounds oddly like “whipped”, but I let it slide. I am, and I don’t care who knows it. I grab Baxter’s long lead and chase after him, tying him to one of the posts on the patio with plenty of slack to move around.

“The boys must be doing okay then?” Brendan asks as we enter the house.

“Yeah, better than. Even the doctors were surprised at their progress. They’ve put on plenty of weight and they don’t need any of the extra support now. Just Audrey. And me.”

“And how are you, and Audrey?”

Depends on what he’s asking, really. I’m fine. Still scared shitless every day, still terrified every time I pick up one of the boys, still worried I’m doing everything wrong and nothing right. But beyond that, I’m okay. I’ve accepted the way they entered the world. Sure, it wasn’t our plan, and it was far from ideal, but it is what it is. I’m just grateful for the team that surrounded us and supported us through their earliest, roughest, days. I can’t shake how awful it felt when I thought Iwas losing Audrey, when my life started to crumble and I was forced to go with the boys instead of staying by her side. But I can accept that it was a moment in time, and that time has passed.

Audrey is doing well, too, from what I can tell. It’s been even harder on her. She has Maisie to worry about too. And a major surgery to recover from. Everything takes more effort, standing, walking, sitting. She’s only just now able to drive again and even then, she gets uncomfortable sitting in that position for too long. But she is the best mother I ever could have imagined for my children and I love her more and more every day. There has been a distance behind every smile, but her face lit up when we walked out of the hospital.

But, if he’s asking about meandAudrey, together. I don’t know. Everything feels hard and not because it is but because we are exhausted and nothing has gone to plan and it’s difficult to accept the change in our relationship. Just as we were settling into something that felt an awful lot like love, just when we were making plans for a future where we were together—instead of just co-parenting—the universe threw us a massive curve ball.

Instead of supporting each other through the boys’ earliest days and weeks, we’ve been forced to separate. To take turns. We barely see each other, choosing instead to make sure one of us was always at the hospital with the boys. The few times we managed to both be there together, it was a blur of bottle feeds and routine checks and kangaroo care. Our conversation was hushed, forced small talk to drown out the rhythmic beeping and the heaviness in the air.

When I wasn’t there, I was here, building her house, or at the winery trying to prove to my dad—and Audrey—that I’ve changed. That I’m not some stupid kid anymore, I’m an adult and I’m ready. It felt wrong, staying at Audrey’s house when shewas at the hospital, so I spent what little free time I had at my old apartment.

“I didn’t realise that was such a loaded question.” Brendan breaks the lingering silence as I ponder his question. His expression is soft as he leans against an empty door frame, tucking the folder under an arm.

“It’s been … tough. For her, for me. And for us.”

He scratches his temple with the corner of his folder. “Does she know this is what you’re doing when you’re not around?”

I shake my head, staring down at my shuffling feet. Embarrassed because as soon as someone other than me said it, the idea of the surprise feels childish. She doesn’t need, and probably doesn’t even want, to move house in the near future. Sure, she complained that her house was too small. But the boysjustcame home, she’s still recovering, everyone is still adjusting.

“You should probably tell her.”

“I know. But now it’s so close to being ready, maybe I should keep the surprise.”

He pushes off the doorway and stands with his legs apart and arms crossed. A power stance if I ever saw one. The guy is me, twelve months ago. Never been in a serious relationship but out here thinking he knows everything about them anyway.

“I think she deserves to know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t want her to worry about the idea of moving. Okay, so the end result is great because she gets the big house she wanted, but the stress of moving house when the boys have only just come home? I want to let her have some time to focus on that, first. Worry about moving when it’s time and we are all ready.”

Brendan rolls his eyes. “Your call mate.”

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