Page 85 of Because of Them

“I love you so fucking much, Audrey.”

His mouth meets mine with a deep kiss so passionate I might cry. His tongue explores my mouth and I savour in his taste, the way he always smells like home and the way I feel so small when I’m wrapped in his arms.

“When did you say we would need to pick up the boys?” he growls. His hand dips underneath my tank and his fingers tease the waistband of my leggings.

I lean back, pushing my breasts into his face and lifting my hips off the bench. “We’ve got time.”

Three days after Michael showed me our home, we took Maisie and the boys to see their new house. That evening, we booked removalists. The two weeks that followed were a frenzy of packing and planning. Calling service providers and changingaddresses with every business we could think of. Packing boxes while the kids slept.

Michael’s parents came over just about every other day to help, and my parents came up on the weekends. And today, everyone is here. Including the three men we hired. Even with the professionals here to help, Michael, our dads, and Callum all stand around trying to look helpful.

Maisie chases Baxter through the now empty house, her squeals echoing off the bare walls. Nostalgia hits me like a wave as I remember the day Callum and I moved in. I wasn’t pregnant yet, but we had always said we would start trying as soon as we had a house of our own. It wasn’t long after that I was pregnant, and then Maisie was born. And we were happy for more than a while before we slowly drifted apart. It sucked, it hurt, and I hated that life hadn’t gone to plan, but looking back I’m grateful for those moments. I know that this was the path we were always meant to take as a family. Because look at us now. Callum is happier than I’ve ever seen him, and he smiles at Cassidy with so much love I almost don’t recognise him. Maisie has grown into the sweetest big sister imaginable, with parents who love her dearly and not-quite-but-almost stepparents who love her almost as much. And I’ve never felt more whole in my life. My boys were exactly what I never knew I needed. The twins, sure, but Michael too.

He steps up behind me, wrapping my arms around me and pulling my cardigan tight around my middle. I stare into the empty rooms and lean my head against his shoulder.

“The boys are in the car,” he says.

I nod against him, a solitary tear escaping down my cheek.

Callum walks back in from outside, holding Cassidy’s hand. “This is … weird.”

Cassidy puffs out a small laugh and I snort at Callum’s choice of words.

“It’s right,” I say.

We walk out of the house one last time, and I’m not sad that my marriage with Callum ended. I’m thrilled to start the next chapter with Michael. With our boys and with Maisie. In the big, beautiful house that Michael built for us.

AUDREY

5 years later

Under the shade of the gum tree that grows in the corner of the yard, Henry and William bicker. Nothing serious, but enough that I turn my focus away from the half-constructed deck to face them. Hands on my hips, I’m about to call out when Michael whistles. Beside him, Noah shoves his hands over his ears.

“Boys, be friends or be apart,” he calls out to them, his deep voice bellowing across the lawn.

The boys jump apart, no doubt with red ears and wide eyes after being caught.

“How do you do that?” Noah asks.

“Comes with the territory mate, you’ll get used to it.”

Noah looks to the boys. He holds one arm across his chest, rubbing his upper arm with the opposite hand, and sighs.Turning back to the deck, he rolls his head from side to side and picks up a stray hammer.

In their corner of the yard, William and Henry stand an arms width apart. I can’t hear them, but from their stance there is no doubt they are whispering insults.

But that’s them, best friends who love to fight. Always in each other’s hair, calling names, wrestling, stealing toys. It’s exhausting but, apparently, all part of the joys of raising boys.

Satisfied their argument won’t turn physical—­at least not yet—I step off the patio and head over to the deck Michael is building. His hair, still longer than mine, is tied in a low bun underneath his cap and the collar of his grey polo is popped up to protect his neck from the blasting summer sun. He leans down over the corner of the deck and I reach around his middle to pull him up.

“Are you sure this will be done before Maisie’s birthday?”

Michael scratches at the back of his neck, hesitating before he answers. I don’t have a lot of confidence in his answer when he nods shyly and looks away.

“You promised her.”

“I know.” He clips his measuring tape back onto his toolbelt. The denim fabric has faded over the years, and I’ve had to repair a few of the pockets more than once. But he still uses it every chance he gets. “I’ll get it done. Brendan is taking over more of the residential builds, so I’ll have more time.”

“Good.” He deserves it. More time. After his dad retired Michael stepped into the owner/manager position at full speed. In the past five years he has scaled the business to include more and more commercial builds, on top of the residential contracts that still flow through. I think, because he would never say as much, he was so proud of the way Noah’s hotel turned out, he wanted to keep that momentum going. Once he was in, he was all in. A bit like being a father. Sure, the start was a little rocky,but he was all in from the very beginning and I can’t fault him for that.

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