Warren's still asleep beside me, small body curled into a question mark, one hand tucked under his cheek.He looks peaceful.Safe.That's all that matters.
I slide out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake him.The flat's cold—clearly the radiator's acting up again—so I pull on a jumper before padding to the bathroom.My reflection in the mirror stops me.
Christ.
Dark circles under my eyes.Hair a mess.Skin pale and drawn.I look like I've been through a war.I feel like it too.
I turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat up.While it runs, I grip the edge of the sink and force myself to breathe.In through the nose, out through the mouth.The way the therapist taught me to breathe when panic begins to overwhelm me.
Emma.
The name echoes in my head, sharp and cruel.I see his face again, the way his eyes rolled back, the way his body tensed, the way my name, my actual name, disappeared from his mouth and was replaced with hers.
My stomach drops.
I thought I was past this.Thought I'd built enough walls that a man couldn't get in and wreck me.But here I am, wrecked anyway, feeling small and stupid and humiliated all over again.
Just like with Declan.
No.Not like Declan.Different.Worse, maybe, because with Tank I let myself hope for something.With Declan, I knew what I was: a possession, something to control.With Tank, for those few hours, I thought maybe I could be… What?Wanted?Seen?
Fucking ridiculous.
I step into the shower and let the hot water scald my skin.Let it wash away the feeling of his hands, his mouth, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress.Let it burn until I can't feel anything but the heat.
But it doesn't work.
I can still feel him.Can still hear the way he said her name, broken and raw, like it was torn out of him against his will.
Who was she?Emma.Was she an ex?A dead girlfriend?Someone he loved and lost?
Does it matter?
No.It doesn't.Because whoever she was, she's who he was thinking about when he was with me.And that means I was nothing.Just a body.A replacement.
The thought makes me want to scream.
Instead, I scrub my skin until it's red and raw, wash my hair twice, and stay under the water until it runs cold.By the time I step out, I'm shivering, teeth chattering, but at least I feel something other than shame.
I dry off, pull on jeans and a clean shirt, and tie my hair back in a wet knot.Good enough.I'm not trying to impress anyone today.I just need to get through the day without falling apart.
Warren's awake when I emerge from the bathroom, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.He sees me and gives me his gap-toothed, sleepy smile that makes my chest ache in the best way.
"Morning, Mam."
"Morning, love."I cross the room to him and press a kiss to the top of his head."Sleep alright after getting into my bed?"
He nods."No more bad dreams."
"Good.That's good."
I smooth his hair back, taking a moment to just look at him.Five years old.Too young to carry the weight he does.Too young to remember most of what Declan did, but old enough to have nightmares about it still.
My fault.All of it.
If I'd left sooner.If I'd been stronger.If I hadn't stayed as long as I did thinking I could fix things, fix him…
"Mam?"
