“What could we be? In the future, Corey? I know what I want us to be. What do you want?” His smile is both achingly beautiful and sad when he replies.
“The possibilities are endless, Doc. But for now—”
“Two days. Give me two days. Please, baby.” The term of endearment that almost slipped out earlier now feels like the most natural thing in the world to say to Corey. “I wantyou to meet Nancy. She’ll be here tomorrow. Please just stay long enough to meet her, and then I’ll help you get wherever you’re going. I promise.”
He smiles and nods his head in agreement before lying back down on my chest.
He falls asleep only minutes later, the devastation of this conversation, the hope for the future, and the exhaustion of the last few days taking their toll.
I lie awake for hours.
The resolve I’d felt talking to Aidan on his porch when we still didn’t know where Corey and Rain were, or if they were OK, comes back to me like a lightning bolt. I want this man. I want to find a way to be something more than friends. God, I hate that fucking word now.
We were never meant to be friends. We were meant to be sunlight and stardust, the beginning and end of every day. A fever and its cure all rolled into one perfect feeling. We were meant to be a hundred shared glances, tender words, secret jokes, and small kindnesses. We were meant to be everything two people can be to one another.
But yet again, reality bites hard, and I know this kind, sweet, caring man will neverput me or Nancy or anyone else at risk for his own comfort. He’ll sacrifice everything for the people he loves. And for my daughter, I know I’ll let him.
It’s in that moment I realise I’ve lost my heart to Corey Wells. And when he leaves, he’s going to take a piece of it with him.
The next morning, Corey’s gone when I wake up stiff and sore after a night sleeping on the sofa. I listen carefully, hoping to hear him shuffling around in the kitchen or the shower running upstairs, but there’s nothing.
Panic fills me at the thought that he left already, changed his mind in the night, and was gone before the sun rose. I check my phone for the time and see it’s almost half-past eight. Next to where my phone was sitting on the coffee table, I see a hastily scribbled note on the back of an envelope.
Doc,
You were fast asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.
Pax was antsy, so I’ve walked him home and then I’m going to go to the beach to draw for a while. I hope Nancy gets settled in OK. Text me later and I’ll come back to meet her, like I promised.
Thank you for last night.
Your Little Rabbit.
xxx
I smile, safe in the knowledge that while yes, he’s leaving everything behind – his friends, his new life, the possibility of us – at least I’ll see him again before he goes.
I reread his note, then get up and stretch, resolutely ignoring the creaks and clicks of my bones and joints. I head to the shower and get ready for the day.
In my head, I make a list of what I need to do this morning. I have to clean up the little bit of mess there is, lay out the ‘welcome home’ basket from my parents that contains new pyjamas and another stuffed toy, this one a classic brown bear, and get the banner and decorations up that the twins insisted on. Mum’s bringing another grocery shop over at ten o’clock, even though she’s already stocked my freezer with homemade meals, cooked and delivered while Aidan and I were sitting and waiting for updates from the police.
Women like my mum baffle and amaze me. In any situation, no matter how stressful or emotional, they handle things. They get shit done. And they do it all while holding everyoneelse together.
I’ve finished my shower and am just pulling on a forest green cable knit jumper over my white collared shirt, when my phone pings with a text.
Shelley: Today’s the day, Daddy! Good luck, I hope it all goes well. Owen says don’t forget the bubble bath! Love you xx
I smile at her text and send a quick heart reaction. I go into the main bathroom and check that, yes, the Christmas special edition pink, glittery bubble bath from Lush that smells like bubblegum is, in fact, standing ready on the shelf behind the tub.
The sight of it alone spurs me into action. I need to get ready for my daughter.
Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, despite all the pain and disappointment of Corey leaving, knowing that my daughter is coming home today shines a bright beam of sunlight on my life.
Twenty-one
Corey
The cold air blowing up the beach is biting, but it doesn’t seem to lessen the fun the seals on the beach below are having. There have been a good number of new pups since I first started coming to see them, and watching them climb on each other’s backs and chase each other across the shore fills me with a bittersweet peace.
