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No.
‘Hannah, we need to talk about this.’ I lean forward and place my mug on the table, moving to the edge of the couch and turning in to her, my elbows on my knees, my hands clasped.
She looks at me out the corner of her eye, avoiding facing me. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers on a swallow, finally taking a sip of her tea.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying so hard not to show my frustration. She’s shutting down. I can’t let that happen. ‘You’re sorry for what?’
She shrugs a little. It’s the most insulting thing ever.
‘Hannah, why do you have a gun?’ I feel its cool metal resting against my back. What the fuck do I do with it? Throw it? Reload it? Put it under her fucking pillow? Jesus Christ, where did she even get it?
‘I’m a single female. It’s just for my own peace of mind.’ She pushes herself up and wanders to the kitchen, tipping the contents of her mug down the sink.
She’s putting too much space between us. Distancing herself. I want to go to her, to shake her secrets out of her, but I force myself to remain where I am. I ignore the single part of her pathetic statement. She most definitely is not single. Not now. ‘Right,’ I say slowly, my frustration growing. Does she take me for a fool? I breathe in some patience before I lose my head. I’ve lost her in this moment. She’s not going to talk, and I know her well enough to realize that the more I push, the more withdrawn she’ll become. And that might mean I lose her for ever. I can’t risk that. I need to think outside the box, figure out what the fuck is going on. And I need to keep her close while I do it.
Resigning myself to my defeat this evening, I stand up from the couch and join her by the sink. She’s staring down at the plug, but she looks to her side when she hears me. I haven’t touched her, but I know she feels me. ‘Hannah,’ I say, and she peeks up at me, all doe-eyed. Her look alone tells me a million things I want to hear. She doesn’t want to piss me off. She doesn’t want to keep me in the dark. She wants to trust me. But something is stopping her.
I pick her up and sit her on the counter, putting myself between her thighs and taking one arm at a time, placing them around my shoulders, wanting her to feel me. To feel my strength. Resting my fingertip under her chin so she can’t dip her head and hide, I put my face as close to hers as I can. ‘You are not single,’ I whisper, and she instantly goes soft, her chin wobbling a little. ‘Can we at least be clear on that little detail?’
Her nod is jerky, and a tiny broken sob escapes before she hauls me into her and hugs me with a force that defies her petite frame. This hug tells me a million things, too. It tells me of her relief. It tells me of her comfort in my hold. It tells me she needs me.
I sigh and cuddle her like she needs to be cuddled – firmly, to lay emphasis on how safe she is. And I settle my face into her neck, getting a hit of my favourite smell. Raspberries and Hannah. I ignore the lingering stench of fear on her and vengeance on me.
With her wrapped around me, I slide her from the counter and walk her to her bedroom, physically having to pry her limbs from around me to free myself. ‘Get changed,’ I tell her, resting her on her bed and going to the chair. I scoop up a T-shirt and pass it to her to change into. ‘I need to call Alex.’
‘Where is she?’ she asks.
‘With her mother.’ I don’t go into details. Hannah doesn’t need to know about my dinner arrangements with Darcy. I make my way to the door, planning how I’m going to explain myself to my daughter.
‘Where are you going?’ Hannah blurts, and I stop, looking back.
I have to think on my feet. Why wouldn’t I just make the call here? ‘That glass needs clearing up. And I need to repair your door.’ She settles immediately, and I ignore the pang of guilt for lying, telling myself that I have no other option. ‘Where did the glass come from?’ I ask.
‘A jar. I knocked it when I passed the shelf.’
I nod, pulling my phone from my pocket as I head back downstairs. She knocked it off in her haste. In her panic.
Alex answers quickly. ‘Where are you?’ she asks impatiently. ‘Mum’s acting weird. I need reinforcements.’
