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It was her.
It always had been.
It always would be.
The girl from the wall.
“I’m going to take care of you,” I told her. “Because I love you.” She shivered violently when I pressed a kiss to her head. “Because I think you’re sexy as fuck.” Carefully reaching for the hem of her disposable underwear, I guided them off. “Because you’re my queen.” Disposing of everything she was wearing, I switched on the shower and held on to her trembling frame as she stood under the hot spray of water, not giving a damn that I was getting wet in the process. My entire focus was on the girl still looking at me like I hung the moon. “And because everything I have, everything I am, I owe to you.”
“Aoife, love? How are you getting on in there?” Trish called out, moments before barreling into the bathroom.
“Mam, get out,” Molloy hissed, giving her mother her back. “God!”
“What’s that on your arse?”
“Nothing.”
“Is that a tattoo?”
“No.”
“Is that Joey’s name?”
“Mam, get out!”
“Oh, Jesus, Tony.”
“What’s wrong, Trish?”
“No wonder that daughter of ours didn’t want me helping her shower. She has that young fella’s name tattooed on her arse!”
140
I Can’t Do This
AOIFE
Sleep deprivation made me a weak woman. It was the reason I had sent that dangerous text message in the middle of the night. Exhaustion had well and truly set in, making it harder not to dwell on the feelings of confliction and regret raging inside of me.
It was the reason that Joey was sitting on the edge of my hospital bed at eight o’clock on Thursday morning. Clad in a freshly ironed Tommen uniform, and with our son nestled in the crook of his elbow, he looked more natural at this parenting gig than I could ever dream to be.
“That’s it,” he coaxed as he fed AJ his bottle.
His bottle.
Another pained sob escaped me.
I couldn’t get him to latch.
I couldn’t do anything right.
Night two with our son had been an even bigger disaster than night one, and I was beginning to think that AJ didn’t like me.
“You’re just tired,” Joey said, setting down the empty bottle and reaching for my hand. “You’ve got this, Molloy.”
“No, Joe, I really don’t,” I croaked out, trying my best not to give in to the overwhelming temptation to scream at the top of my lungs. “Everyone was right. I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he corrected, releasing my hand to settle AJ against his shoulder. “I promise you can,” he continued, shifting closer to tuck me under his free arm. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
