“Yeah, I got that, genius.” I start drawing little circles on his temples, pressing firmly. “Move my hands. Does it help if I put pressure on it?”
He hesitates, then reaches up and wraps his hands around my wrists, moving my fingers a few millimetres closer to his hairline. I start massaging him, and his whole body immediately loosens. His breathing evens out.
“It’s okay,” I find myself whispering. “You’re okay.” He doesn’t respond.
A few minutes pass in silence. I keep rubbing circles over his temples, trying to dull the pain, and slowly, the tension drains out of him, his face going slack. I’m just starting to wonder if he’s fallen asleep when he speaks up again.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters roughly.
“For what?”
“Calling. Didn’t want to.” His voice is soft and slurring. He sounds almost drunk.
I shake my head. “Sebastian, you have done plenty of things that you could apologise for. Needing help when you’re in chronic pain is absolutely not one of them.” I look around the dark room. “Do you have medication you can take for this? Do you want ice, or something? Water?”I try to pull back, but he leans forward, pressing his face into my stomach. I stiffen. “Sebastian?”
He mumbles something incomprehensible. I lean closer, and a lock of my hair falls into his face. He catches it and examines it fuzzily. “Pretty,” he mumbles.
“Oh. Uh, thanks. I always thought it was a bit carrot-y.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he slurs, winding the curl around his finger.
I freeze. “Um. What?”
Thirty-Seven
Sebastian
Shit. Did I say something stupid? I close my eyes, trying to think past the searing pain in my head. It’s no use. I can’t remember. Hell, I can barely form full thoughts.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Can’t think straight.”
Another wave of pain washes over me, bursting behind my eyes. I groan, my hands clenching in the bedsheets, and feel Beth’s small fingers press against my temples again. I want to push her off, but it feels too good. Besides, I’m not sure I can lift my arms.
I should have known this would happen. I could feel the migraine coming on this morning, flickering at the edges of my vision, pressing down on my brain, but I just took some pills and tried to ignore it. What choice did I have? I had work to do and a baby to look after.
Cami woke up in a bad mood, and cried pretty much all day. I tried everything to make her happy. Reading her a book. Singing her a song. Holding her. Everything just made her more and more angry. She refused to eat lunch, and wouldn’t go for her afternoon nap. No matter what I did, I couldn’t calm her down.
The pain got worse and worse as the day went on, until it finally came to a head this evening. I was holding Cami down, trying to change her nappy, when the first wave hit me. I just about managed to get her in a clean babygrow, and then I came into the bedroom and pretty much just fucking collapsed, still holding her.
I was so scared. Through the pounding in my head, the only thought in my mind wasI’m going to hurt her.I was going to hurt Cami. I was going to drop her, or bang her against something. I was going to pass out, and she’d lie on the floor starving until the others came back tomorrow. She was going to get hurt, and it would bemyfault.
I didn’t know what to do. So I called Beth.
Beth, the sweet, gentle woman my daughter is completely in love with. Beth, the pretty girl-next-door both of my roommates are crushing on. Beth, who hates myfucking guts.
I’ve thought about her a lot this weekend. I can’t get her face out of my head. I can’t forget the wide-eyed, hurt, confused expression she was wearing when I shouted at her over the spilt toys. I groan at the memory.
I scared her. I know I did. That’s why she cleaned up the whole flat after I yelled at her. I never meant to upset her, but I did, because I’m so clumsy and harsh I can’t even leave the house without losing my temper and scaring some poor girl shitless. Beth has done nothing but help us. We’d have been utterly screwed if she hadn’t let Jack drag her up to our flat last week. And I’ve just hurt her. Like I hurt everyone.
And now I’m lying here, completely incapacitated, while she’s forced to look after me and my child.
I’m a useless dad. Cami’s better off without me.
“Shh,” Beth says softly, pushing back some of my hair. “It’s okay.”
I crack open my eyes. She’s perched on the mattress behind me, her phone in one hand. The light from the screen washes her pale skin in blue.
“What?” I ask. It comes out more like a grunt.