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I’m not at all secretly uneasy with the fact I have nothing like this organised.
I turn, rolling to my side, throwing back the covers. The chilly morning air sweeps across my toes as I tap them against the carpet in search of my slippers.
Cup of tea. That’s what I need.
Slipping my feet in the warmth of the fleece material, I grab my phone and Dean’s hoodie I packed, then make my way downstairs. Growing slower or not, this hoodie used to swamp me, now it’s tight around my bump. I slip my hands in the front pocket, shimmying it down.
In the kitchen, I fill the kettle and grab a mug, waiting for it to boil.The life I promised you, it starts tomorrow.Dean’s words have been swimming in my head since I listened to his message.I’ve been so busy with seeing my dad and helping Bex, I haven’t managed to speak to him. I texted but… it’s just made me feel nervous.
I think back to being alone when he was gone. Endless hours spent staring at my phone wishing he’d call. The sleepless nights. The pretending everything was fine. I can’t do that again. My heart pounds against my ribs as heat rushes to the surface of my skin. The growing fear elevates like a scream, amplified by the rising noise from the boiling kettle. As soon as it clicks off, I take a steadying breath, walking to the fridge for the milk.
I wipe my head, closing the fridge, jumping back when I see Bex stood in the doorway. “Jesus!”
She smiles, scraping her long, glossy hair back, tying it in a messy bun on top of her head. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.” She walks into the kitchen.
I exhale dramatically. “Didn't have to frighten me like that.”
She laughs again.
“Want one?” I hold up the milk.
“Please.” Bex pulls out a chair at her dining table and takes a seat. Her legs are parted wide, and she slumps looking exhausted. “I know why I can’t sleep but what’s keeping you up?” she asks.
I put the tea bags in the mugs and fill them with water. I want to tell her how my sleeping habits have changed. That without Dean there I never manage more than a few hours. Last time we talked about him though, things were left in a way they never have been with her. Tense. Awkward.
Bex will always see right by me. She’s fiercely protective and does not care who she’s up against. But she’s almost always right. And last time she spoke the truth, I didn’t want to hear it.
“Baby was kicking. Couldn’t get comfy.” My lie seems to be accepted as I pour in the milk, stirring the mugs.
“Dean alright?”
Maybe not. I turn to face her, and she gives me a smile, oneside of her face lifting smugly.
With an exasperated breath, I grab both mugs, then place them on the table, taking a seat opposite her. “I need to apologise.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a twat. I’m your best friend. I can read you like a book.”
I lift a brow, then take a sip of my tea. The warm brew makes me instantly relax. “Then you already know.”
With a smile, she leans forward with a delayed pull of her body. “You’re worried about him?”
I’m never not worried about him or what he does. I’ve got better at living with it, but he and I both know it’s not the life we want. A small smile stretches as hot tears prickle my eyes. “I must be a small book.”
Bex giggles, picking up her mug. “I never meant to upset you when we spoke. I’m sorry.” She shakes her head from side to side. “Just looking out for you.”
“I know.” I let my head drop. “I was just so happy he was home.” I didn’t care how or why. And I still don’t knowhoworwhy.But Bex is right. “I know how crazy it is.”
“I know you do. You're not stupid.”
I look to her.
“I’d be more worried if you were so blinded by love, you couldn’t see the wood through the trees.”
My face contorts. I wipe under my eyes with one hand as the other grips the mug a little harder. “Before we left, I told him I’d give him the space to finish whatever he needs to get done. Then he said he was getting out.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You believe him?”
I suck in some air. “I believe hewantsto get out,” I sigh. He came home determined enough.
