Page 7 of Push

Kayleigh yanked the front of my shirt to pull me back. “That was perfect.” Her lips were headed straight for me.

“No.” I struggled free from her claws, and she blinked up at me, confused, so I repeated the only word that made sense. “No.” I still couldn’t breathe. I tried again and again to get air into my lungs, but I could only feel burning in my chest. “It was all wrong.”

“Toby…shh… You didn’t do anything wrong.” Kayleigh reached for me, but I dodged out of her way. “We can’t help how we feel about each other. This can be our secret. Just the two of us. Like the coffees. And lunches. And now more…”

“Christ—that’s not—” My chest heaved. “I’m not like my father.” The seams of my soul split open, and guilt surged through my body, hot and raw and ugly. “I’m not.”

I pushed past her and headed straight for the door.

“Toby! Wait!” Kayleigh’s heels clipped on the tiles after me, but I wasn’t slowing down. Nothing was stopping my escape. “What about charging your phone—”

I slammed the door behind me.

3

She Took a Call

Gwen

Boiling water pooled onthe countertop.

I lowered tired eyes to the kettle in my hand, watching it tip down, the water gushing into the mug and spilling over the sides like a waterfall. I did nothing to stop it. The world sped ahead in front of me, but my thoughts were choked in a thick black fog at the starting line.

Where’s Toby?

“Gwen! Shit!” Marnie’s hip bumped me out of the way, and she pried the kettle from my fingers. “I’ll make the tea. You sit down, okay? I’ve got this.”

I nodded, but my grip stayed firmly clutched around the handle. Marnie’s words blurred with the endless flicker of remembering Kayleigh’s lips on Toby’s cheek.

More than twenty people had liked that photo. Friends—well, not anymore—and people who worked with Toby. I looked like a blind, gullible fool, and everyone knew.Everyone.

A message from a mum in our local parents’ group was time-stamped before Marnie had even told me about the photos.

Eden Rawles

We’re here for you. Reach out if you need us.

She was only trying to help, but humiliation knotted tight in my stomach. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. I’d held my own in a courtroom, staring down mobsters and ignoring death threats hidden behind thinly veiled smiles. Life couldn’t knock me down. I was strong. Toby was the only person I’d ever trusted enough to let the defensive walls crumble for even a peek at the imperfect version of me. He’d be the last.

Marnie’s hip bumped me again. “Living room. Now.” She hissed a curse when she spotted the water pooled on the wood and snatched a tea towel to mop up the mess I’d made. “Go, go, go!”

I shuffled to the living room, unhooked the baby monitor from my waistband, and flopped on the couch. The pillows I’d painstakingly chosen to match the modern farmhouse aesthetic I’d seen on too many social media pages only annoyed me. Nothing felt cozy. Everything itched. Even my brain itched.

Who had I pissed off in a past life for my day to turn into this train wreck?

I’d started my morning dreaming of a fancy cappuccino. That was all. My dreams had gotten simpler since I’d become a stay-at-home mum. But had I bundled Noah up in his stroller to treat myself to a coffee from the café down the road? No. I’d stayed home and pureed another batch of peas and carrots for his lunch. And when I’d snuck a look at my phone and seen the headline about my brother being awarded another banking accolade, I hadn’t let the stab of emptiness stop me from finishing the laundry piled on the nursery floor. I’d kept right on folding.

Surely that maturity had earned me enough brownie points on the universal shit-o-meter to at least have spared me the car accident?

Apparently not.

Marnie darted into the living room, nervous energy sparking off her like a frayed electrical cord. The mugs clutched in her hands wobbled when she slid them onto the coffee table. Tea sloshed over the edges and dripped on the wood.

Flustered, she grabbed the hem of her skirt and swiped away the mess. “Drink up. You’ll feel better.” She nudged the mug closer.

“The world’s problems can’t always be solved by drinking tea, Mar.”

“I think a few probably can.”

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