Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I let out a breath as she smiled. She held out a finger, Ruby style. “Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise,” he said and linked her finger.
I pulled her up and held her tight, her arms around my waist, her head on my shoulder. I rocked her like she was little again, too little to be embarrassed by her mother. My eyes were closed when the bed dipped next to us, my heart skipped a beat as I felt his arms around me, around both of us. His head pressed to mine as he kissed Mia’s hair, and I wished he’d never leave, not ever again.
Another creak of the door, and there was Ruby.
He beckoned her over. “Come on, Rubes, group hug, room for another small one.”
She smiled her brightest smile, and came over, flung her arms around all three of us, and there we stayed, four broken people who hadn’t realised they were broken, not until they were put back together again.
I hugged Ruby and Mia, and Darren hugged all of us.
I felt safer than I’d felt in years. More complete than I’d felt in years.
“I’d better get the sausages on,” I said, before they saw me crying.
I sat at the kitchen table, the same one Nanna had had since forever, laughing with the girls and making Nanna giggle so hard she gave herself hiccups, but inside I was fucking dying.
The thought of walking out that front door again was more than I could bear. The thought of driving home to the flat without the girls, without Jodie, without Nanna. Alone. I was so alone.
I’d never felt grief like it, so close and yet so fucking far.
Jodie’s foot touched mine under the table, and I know she was feeling it too. I could see it behind her smile, behind the way she dished up dinner and cut up Ruby’s sausages and acted like everything was normal.
I thought of all the things I wanted to say. Thought about dropping my knife and fork and taking Jodie’s hand and begging her to take me back, take me home. Begging for another chance, a proper chance. Begging for another shot to stay with her rather than hit the pub in a foul temper. Begging for another shot to hold her tight as I watched the TV in dirty clothes, knackered from a long day at the garage.
As usual, I said fucking nothing, just ate my dinner and made sure the girls kept smiling.
I helped Jodie clear the plates. We didn’t speak much, but she passed me plates to dry with the kind of lingering glances that made me fall in love with her all over again, just like the very first time. Fall in love with the girl with the dark red bob, asking me for a cigarette every morning as she waited for the school bus. The girl whose laugh made my heart beat so fucking fast as I walked past her on the way to work.
The girl who’d asked for my name and told me hers.
“I’m Jodie,” she’d said. “Thought you might want to know the name of the person robbing you of cigarettes every morning.”
“No bother,” I’d said. “I’m Trent.” I’d caught myself. “Darren. Darren Trent.” I’d pointed down the hill. “I’m training, fixing up cars. Just down there.”
She’d looked me up and down, like she needed to. I was wearing fucking overalls streaked with oil. She giggled, and I still remember how that sounded. “Kinda gathered,” she said. “It’s really nice to meet you, Darren Trent.”
“I’ll be seeing you, Jodie,” I’d said.
And I did see her. Every fucking day from that point onwards. Slowly but surely, bit by bit we got to know each other.
I stopped seeing her at the bus stop and just started seeing her. I’d talk to her, laugh with her, walk along the river with her.
Then one day she’d reached for my hand.
I remembered the first time I’d kissed her, round the corner from the fish and chip shop as we finished up our supper. I remembered the first time I’d taken her, in bed at her parents’ house, listening out for footsteps on the stairs. She’d been so nervous, all giggly and breathless, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“We can wait,” I’d said. “Whenever you want, Jo.”
“Now,” she’d said, and she’d kissed me, so hard. Kissed me hard enough to make me sure she was sure. “I’m ready,” she’d said, and I knew she was.
I’d been with her when she did the pregnancy test, as shocked as she was when the blue line appeared.
I’d been with her when she told her parents we were having a baby.
I’d been with her when she gave birth to our little girl, held her tight as our Mia cried for the first time.
I’d always been with her, even when she couldn’t see it. Even when she didn’t believe it.