And it's not like Porter is my boyfriend or anything.
Not really.
But I’m feeling vulnerable all the same.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Uh huh,” I lie. “Just wondering what to get Beth for Christmas.”
“She means a lot to you, I can tell.”
“She does. Sort of like my second mum in a way.”
Shit.
I immediately wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
But here it comes.
“Where's your real mum?” he asks, inevitably.
It’s an innocent question.
A natural path for our conversation to take.
Especially this time of year.
Everyone’s all ‘family this’ and ‘family that.’
A wave of anxiety hits, similar to the one I felt on the day of the storm.
My body can’t decide if it feels hot or cold.
Being under this blanket with him suddenly makes me claustrophobic.
I leap to my feet, pacing around the room in slow circles.
Walls close in on either side, heart racing as my thoughts begin to spiral.
Mum’s first Christmas without me.
What have I done?
My first Christmas without her.
Thank god I’ll have Beth.
She'll only be in Brisbane for two days though.
Porter will be gone for much longer than that.
So will most of the guys we work with.
The isolation of being here alone during the holidays will be too much to bear.
Sweat pools in the creases of my palms.
A crushing sense of guilt and nausea flood through me.
