TOMMY
I didn’t sleep welllast night. My mind was racing with thoughts of Angie giving me come-to-bed eyes. She does that when she’s had a few drinks.
Despite being pretty drunk, I couldn’t take advantage of her. When I make love to Angie, I want her to remember every fucking second of it.
Like a love-struck teen, I get up and do all the stuff I think she likes. I wash my hair because she loves running her fingers through my shaggy curls. Then I splash on some beard oil. Apparently, the smell turns her on. Another fact I learnt last night. Last of all, I pull on my old faded blue jeans because she loves these bad boys, together with my Rolling Stones t-shirt.
I hop down the stairs, jump over the bottom banister, and land on both feet. “I've still got it,” I say to myself.
Connie and Ozzie are sitting at the island having breakfast when I enter the kitchen. I notice Angie isn’t around.
“Tommy,” she says, standing.
“Morning, Connie,” I breeze past her but catch the startled look she throws my way. “Hey, bud.” I lean down,planting a kiss on the top of my boy’s head while I tickle his tummy.
“Where’s Josh this morning?” I ask, bringing my attention back to Connie.
“Angie and Josh left early. I was up at six, but I heard their car leave at around five-thirty.”
“Where the hell did they go to so early in the morning?” And should Angie be driving? She was pretty hammered last night.
“I’ve no idea, I’m afraid.”
Connie seems jumpy.
“Are you okay?”
“Kind of. Have you watched any of the news channels today?”
Dread creeps into my bones. “No, why?”
Her lips purse, then she circles around to the table, picking up her iPad. After typing in the search bar, she hands it over to me and my stomach drops.
“What the fu—” I remember my kid is within earshot, so I step away, still reading as Connie follows. I whisper to her, “This is bullshit.”
“I’m so sorry.”
What I’m looking at is a screen full of lies. Chelsea jumped on the bandwagon Fraser started by accusing Angie of all kinds of shit, including the reason we split up. Every limb in my body stiffens with anger. She has some fucking nerve doing an interview like this, especially after everything she put me and our son through recently.
“Has Angie seen this?” I gesture towards the device in my hand. Again, Connie chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
I run upstairs and into her room. “Thank fuck.” I breathe out a sigh of relief, realising her wardrobe and drawers stillhold the few clothes she’s brought over so far. She hasn’t left me. At least, she hasn’t yet.
I retrieve my phone from my pocket and call her while wandering into Oz’s room. It goes straight to voicemail.Where the hell is she?
Connie tries to place a t-shirt over Ozzie’s head while he points to his chalkboard.
“This is my dog, Connie. Do you like him?”
He’s drawn a round blob with more blobs and lines.
“I love it,” Connie replies.
“This is so cool, little man. Awesome.” My hand hovers in the air, waiting to give my boy a high-five while, at the same time, a figure through the window catches my eye. It’s Andrew. The slap of Ozzie’s hand against mine stops me from staring. “Hey, how about you draw me a cat now, Oz?”
Connie joins in. “You’re the best at drawing cats, aren’t you, Oz?”
He nods enthusiastically.
