Page 66 of Then Came You

She shakes her head, linking her arm with mine, pulling me further along to a 7/11 so we can treat ourselves to a $1 coffee. We might be living comfortably now, but we're in no way rich or frivolous with our money. Almost everything I earn goes to Tori's medical bills, charity, or is tucked away in random places around Blade's house because I feel like a freeloader.

Her sullen, sunken eyes bore into me. "You need to talk to him. He wouldn't risk his relationship with his son if he wasn't crazy about you." I feel a pang of guilt over sleeping with my best friend's father.

"That's just it. He's Xan's dad. Xan is going to hate us both. I'm going to ruin the only decent friendship I've ever had and not only jeopardise that, but completely destroy his relationship with Blade," I frown, waving my arms in the air for the electric convenience door to slide open.

"Again, these are concerns you should be discussing with Blade. Your love is worth the risk. Don't let a good thing go because you're not used to receiving good things in life. The last 22 years for you have been hell. It's time to believe you deserve better and this could be your chance at true happiness," Tori says, shuffling over to the coffee machine.

"Is it worth Xan's feelings?" I eye a pack of Tim Tams that I'm desperately craving. They'll probably make me sick later, but nah, screw it. I'm getting those Tim Tams. Grabbing the packet of deliciousness, I walk over to the counter, waiting for Tori to bring our coffees.

"I think you shouldn't compromise your feelings for someone else's."

"Okay, fine. Let's say Xan gives us his blessing. There are so many more obstacles to overcome." I don't wait for the cashier to ring us up; I tear into the packet of chocolate-covered cookies. I'm like a savage, popping two into my mouth at a time.

"Like what?" I can see the judgement in Tori's expression as she nibbles on a Tim Tam.

"Like the fact that I'm me and he's him."

"Vague much?" Tori takes a Tim Tam and nibbles at it.

"I look like his mid-life crisis. I'm poor and uneducated, and I have absolutely nothing to offer him. I'm literally a loser in every sense of the word. I couldn't be farther from his idea of a perfect woman. I mean, look at me." I stretch my arms out wide, mimicking Christ the Redeemer. "I have hair like freaking Frenchie from Grease, and my shoes are like fourth-hand with holes in them. I'm not the kind of girl you take to the country club, let alone to galas, marry, and have kids with. I'm not sure I'm cut out to raise an emotionally stable child after what I've been through. And then there's his ex-wife, who has made it abundantly clear that I might as well have leprosy," I rant, flapping my arms around like a wild chicken.

People are staring at me like I'm a Loony Tune. I have more issues than a box of tissues, and even though I’m religious about going to counselling to get over past abuse and poor parental influence, but at the end of the day no one can make me feel my own self-worth. It’s a constant struggle to feel worthy, and the truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever get there.

Tori steps into my personal space, wrapping me in her frail arms. It's exactly what I need – sisterly love. Her quick hug ends in a backhand to my stomach. "Are you done?" She asks quite haughtily.

I nod, a little afraid of her tone.

She places her bony hands on my shoulders and fixes her gaze on me. "Row, please don't say those things about yourself. Having money doesn't make someone a better person; it makes them lucky. You're sensational. You've worked so hard to get to where you are, and I know it's not exactly where you want to be, but you've done what Mum could never do – you raised me. You sheltered me, clothed me, fed me, protected me, and most importantly, you loved me in the most beautiful way. You would be the best wife and mother, and I should know because you loved me like a mother would. I don't think this is just a fleeting thing for you and Blade. He worships you. Just talk to him. Please?" She's exasperated by the time she finishes speaking, so I guide her to a bench so she can catch her breath.

The sooner I find us a place, the better, so I can take better care of her.

I try to reassure her for the time being. "Okay, Tori, I'll talk to him." I soothe her by rubbing small, gentle circles on her back. The bones beneath her shirt feel harsh beneath my hand.

As soon as she starts coughing, I signal a taxi. "I think I need to go home," she splutters, trying to contain the fit in the crook of her elbow, spit flying everywhere.

Why do I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that she's close to the end?

I wave my hand frantically, trying to catch the attention of any car with a yellow light that signals they're available. Tori takes small sips to ease her coughing fit. When a taxi finally pulls up to the curb, I help her into the taxi, sliding in after her. "Do you want to go to the hospital?" She vehemently shakes her head.

"Home. I need sleep. Go talk to Blade," she squeezes my hand as she rests her head against the window and shuts her eyes.

It's only hours later, after I've ensured she's okay, that I finally make it to Blade's place. I need to get things off my chest and tell him that I'll be temporarily moving in with Tori until we find a permanent place to live.

Letting myself in, I click the lock in place behind me, stepping toward the living room where I'm sure I'll find Haven and Blade. When he left this morning, he was on his way to pick her up from Alex’s house where she had a sleepover with her cousins.

As I come closer to the living room, I'm transported into a field of giant rainbow flowers. There are papier-mâché flowers everywhere, and I honestly have never seen so many colours. My feelings deepen at how he puts his children at the centre of his universe. Haven stands in the middle, dressed as a bumblebee, while Blade assembles another paper rose. On another couch is Xander, lying down with a pillow half over his face.

My shoes squeak on the tiles, alerting my presence. “Row!” Haven squeals, bouncing on the spot.

“There she is,” a still hungover Xander drawls from his lying position on the couch. He has a pillow half over his face.

“Hey,” he tilts his chin in my direction, his piercing stare anything but innocent. Just when I think he can't make me blush anymore, he cheekily winks at me as if he knows I'm thinking about how he fed me his cock for breakfast.

Haven catches his wink. “What’s wrong with your eye, Daddy?” Smooshing her tiny hands on his cheeks. Snorting, I go to sit down on the recliner.

“Nothing. Dust.” He clears his throat.

“So, what’s going on here?” I ask, glancing around.

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