"You’d do that? For me?" she asks.
"For the baby," I say quietly. "I want to be part of my son's life."
"Not for me." She shakes her head and turns away from me. "I guess I should have known."
"What do you want from me? We broke up months ago. You said yourself that getting back together wasn't the right thing to do."
She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head again. "It's not. I just feel so alone right now. And for a second, I thought you might want me. But you never did, did you?"
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is. You wanted a relationship, but you didn't want me.”
“Niamh, I—”
“Loved me?”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
“No. It wasn’t. And I’m sorry for that. I truly am.”
She takes a couple of deep breaths. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t just your fault. We both failed.”
My gut wrenches. I don’t know what to say to make any of this right. I suppose I can’t. I wasn’t in the right headspace when Niamh and I met. I thought I could be whole enough to be with someone else. I was wrong, and she got hurt.
“I’m sorry I’m taking things out on you,” Niamh says. “It’s just…here I am, alone in London, with your baby. My parents don't want me anymore. Even my brother isn't answering my calls. And the baby won't stop crying." She laughs bitterly. "For me anyway. He seems to love you."
I'm not sure why I hadn't realised that the baby had stopped crying. He’s asleep in my arms, blissfully unaware of our argument.
"I'm going out," Niamh says. "I'm glad you want to be part of his life."
"I do.”
“I just wish—” She shakes her head. “Forget it. We were never right for each other. I’m just emotional.”
I’d hug her, but I’m not sure how to do that and hold the baby safely. First-time parent problems.
“I’ll be back soon.” She makes her way to the door.
“Niamh, could we talk about his name when you get back?" It’s probably the wrong time to ask, but I’m too tired to stop the words.
"I haven't thought of one yet. It's been hard to think while he's been screaming."
"I thought we could choose one together."
"Maybe."
She walks out, closing the door behind her.
I sit on the chair, cradling the baby. I can’t blame Niamh for being upset and angry. The only good thing to come out of our relationship was a baby neither of us wanted. But he's here now, and we need to be the best parents we can be for his sake. I'll do everything within my power to give him a good life, to protect him.
But what if I can't? My parents couldn't protect me from everything. They couldn't protect me from a monster. They couldn't stop my life from shattering. God. Those aren’t things I want to think about now. I wish I could forget them forever, but I can’t.
I take deep breaths and concentrate on happy thoughts and memories. I conjure an image of my safe place in my mind: my childhood bedroom, staring up at the stars with Rory by my side. It helps me relax and chases the demons away, at least for a while.
The baby grumbles in his sleep, reminding me he’ll be hungry when he wakes. I get my phone out and, one-handed, look up instructions on how to make a baby's bottle. I have to let the water cool, so I get up, put fresh water in the kettle, and flick the switch. It shouldn’t take long to boil. The baby doesn't wake, so I settle in the chair again, half wishing it was the rocking chair Rory's dad had made. Then again, it's late, and I've barely slept in the last twenty-four hours. It’s no wonder Niamh is tired and at the end of her tether. At least I've had a couple of breaks, even if one of them involved repairing a dishwasher in a pub of all places. Still, I need the money. Moving won't be cheap, and I don't know how my boss will react when I tell him I’m quitting. He is the kind of man that might tell me to get lost. There's so much to arrange, and I’m too tired to handle any of it.
