At least he had the decency to look ashamed.
Doesn't make it better.
Doesn't make me feel less like shite.
I need to move.I need to do something before I spiral completely.The shower.I'll take a shower.Wash him off me.Wash this whole night off me.
I stumble into the bathroom, turn the water on as hot as it'll go, and strip off my clothes.I don't look in the mirror.I can't look at myself right now.
The water's scalding when I step under it, but I don't adjust the temperature.Let it burn.Let it hurt.Anything to focus on something other than the ache in my chest.
I press my hands against the tile, head bowed, letting the water pour over me.
And then I'm crying.
Gasping, ugly sobs that shake my whole body.I slide down until I'm sitting on the shower floor, arms wrapped around my knees, and I let it out.All of it.The humiliation, the anger, the bone-deep exhaustion of trying so fucking hard to keep it together all the time.
I cry for the girl I used to be, before Declan.Before I learned that love meant pain.
I cry for the woman I am now, raising a kid alone, working shit jobs, pretending I'm fine when I'm barely holding on.
I cry because for one night, for a few hours, I thought maybe I could have something for myself.Something that wasn't about Warren or bills or survival.
And it was ripped away before I even had a chance to hold it.
Stupid.Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Eventually the tears stop.Run dry.I sit there in the cooling water, numb and hollow, until my skin's pruned and the water's gone lukewarm.
Then I drag myself up, turn off the tap, and wrap myself in a towel that's seen better days.
I avoid the mirror again.I don't need to see the red eyes, the blotchy face, the evidence of my breakdown.
I just need to sleep.
I need to forget.
I'm pulling on an old shirt, one of Declan's I should've thrown out years ago but kept because it's comfortable, when I hear it.
A whimper.
Soft.Scared.
Warren.
My heart clenches, panic of a different kind flooding through me.I cross the flat in three strides and push open his bedroom door.Mam’s door is closed.She’s fast asleep and won’t wake now until morning.When I fled from Declan, I came home to mam.She’s been a godsend.She lives with me and Warren, and she takes care of him for me when I’m working.I owe her so much, so giving her a roof over her head is the least I could do for her, especially when she helps me with Warren.
He's sitting up in bed, small body shaking, tears streaming down his face.
"Mam," he chokes out.
"I'm here, love."I'm beside him in an instant, pulling him into my arms.He's so small.Five years old and already carrying fears he shouldn't have to."I'm here.You're alright."
"Bad dream," he whispers against my shoulder.His hands fist in my shirt, holding on like I'm the only solid thing in the world.
Maybe I am.
"I know, baby.I know."I rock him gently, one hand rubbing circles on his back."It was just a dream.You're safe now."
