Those women became my safe space, and before long, Aurora and I found ourselves a new way of living. It was fast-paced, late nights and coated in rhinestones, and it was all ours.
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “I’m happy to hang with Liv and Daisy.”
“What about Saturday? Did you like the sitter who came last time?”
“Umm… I think I’m ready to stay home alone.”
My heart clenches. Familiar panic and paranoia bleed in with memories of those first few weeks after she was born. That tingling feeling of being watched.Gotta keep her safe.I take a slow breath.We’re okay. They haven’t found us in years. We’re as far away as we can be. And we’re stronger now.
My hand finds my bangles, spinning them around my wrist as my heart bangs against my ribcage.
“Are you sure?” I ask, trying to loosen the reins and let my daughter grow up without the traumas I had.
“Heaps of kids at school stay home alone, and I feel safe here,” she says. “Mike and Jessa are next do—”
“What?” I ask.
Aurora lifts an ear towards the open back door, her eyebrows pinching as she listens.
“I think our other neighbour is finally home,” she hisses before tossing her crochet project aside and slipping out the door. We’ve been in this new place for five days now and have yet to see the guy who lives there. Mike from next door told me it was an older guy on his own. “I can see a dog.”
“Oh, god. I hope it’s not a barking one.”
“Mum.” Aurora laughs. “They all bark.”
I turn the dials down on the stove and tiptoe out the door, joining Aurora in her snooping. “You know what I mean. The ones that bark because they saw a bird fly past, or heard someone moving on their own property. They bark at every stupid little thing,” I say, trying to catch sight of either said dog or its owner through the slats of our side gate.
“Dogs are protective.”
“They can also be a pain in the arse,” I argue. Someone whistles, and the answering pitter-patter of paws follows before the closing of a door.
I go back inside, pull two bowls from the cupboard and give a final stir to our dinner simmering in the saucepan.
My mind strangely casts back to another recent encounter I’ve had with a dog. Yesterday, outside Sweet Escape. The lovable mutt, who seemed well fed on dog treats and his owner’s affections. Then, the owner himself, with his barrel chest and those thick, burly arms. I may be the one dancing on a stage, but there had been plenty of nice views from where I was standing, too. Maybe it’s been too long since I was actually that close to a man to appreciate him.
In twelve years, I’ve barely had the desire to. A fleeting romance, met too often in a darkened closet where only our bodies did the talking. When my craving for human connection and the excitement of flirting made me cave in, but my mindknew it wouldn’t go further than that. Not when Aurora was my priority.
The man yesterday caught me off guard, that’s all. With his muted green eyes, and that easy smile hidden behind his thick, dark beard. My head felt clouded as his presence wrapped around me, a spell cast in sweet apples and woodsy sage. It was calm and masculine, and I do not have time for that kinda shit. I’ve got a young woman to raise.
“Mum?” My world comes back into focus with my daughter standing before me, looking concerned.
“What’s up?”
She points to the serving spoon in my hand, poised over the pot full of rice. “Are you gonna serve dinner, or am I meant to do a trick first?”
“Sorry!” I shake off the dirty daydreams and finish filling our bowls. Aurora drops a fork in each one, then we move to the couch, where we settle in to eat and watch the latest TV show to fall victim to our obsession with teenage romance and complex family dynamics. This time, it also includes werewolves. I’m not even a little concerned that I find the psychotic uncle a totaldaddy.
A few episodes later, I notice Aurora has checked her phone four times in the last few minutes.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
She finishes typing a message, chewing on her lip as she places the phone face down on her lap. “One of the girls from school.”
“A friend?”
“Maybe,” she answers hesitantly. “She’s in my English class. She was making sure I didn’t hurt myself earlier. I said I’m fine and that I’ve rethought my Olympic ambitions.”
I laugh just as her phone beeps again. She turns it over, and I watch as a grin spreads across her face, letting out a little chuckleunder her breath before she types at speed. My chest fills with warmth at the sight.
