CHAPTER THIRTY
BRONWYN
How the hell did I get so lucky to have a man like Short in my life?Not only has he provided a sanctuary for me and my son, but he’s also keeping me safe by having a prospect following me to work and hanging around the hospital, wasting his time just to make sure no danger comes to me. On top of that, he’s looking after Trip today – and his tone didn’t suggest that had gone anything but well. And now he’s dismissing all my concerns about how to pay the therapist, because he’s taking this old lady business seriously. How can I ever repay him?
A few days ago, I wondered whether I was wrong to put so much trust in him, but the more I learn about him, the more I think I’d have to go a very long way to find a better man, if one existed at all.
The more time I spend with Short, the more I admire and like him. The relationship we have seems relaxed and easy. In the house, we’re becoming like an old married couple, moving seamlessly around each other and catering to each other’s needs. If only I could get over this roadblock in my mind, I could actually see him as my forever.
I recall what Pippa had said to me. She’d implied sex with the right partner was beyond incredible, and that Short would be gentle with me.
Am I a coward for not even entertaining the possibility? Right now, I’m not ready yet, but maybe I won’t be saying no forever. If only I could get past, on some primitive level, the thought of intimacy instilling paralysing fear.
Do I need this pleasure she alluded to? I’d endured my dad. Could I endure Short without losing myself? Would giving him my body mean Short would stay with me?
No. That’s stupid thinking. Not only wouldn’t it be fair to me, but it wouldn’t be fair to him.
Shit! While I’ve been lost in my head, time’s ticked by. I’d better get a move on, stop thinking about me, and start considering what this visit to the therapist with Trip could mean. I’ve been such a bad mother for years. It’s time I started concentrating on my son. Myson. The child I turned my back on as I was only a kid myself. I can’t turn back the years, but maybe now I can step up and be a proper mom.
Going down to the parking lot, I spot Short’s truck immediately. I hurry over, jumping into the passenger seat, giving Short a smile, then turn to assess Trip, to ensure he’s okay after being with Short for the day. I have to smile seeing he’s still clutching his teddy bear, and has his motorcycle toy on his lap. Beside him is the box of the cars he loves. He doesn’t look traumatised, he just looks like…Trip.
“Has he really been okay?” I ask Short, wondering whether he’d glossed over anything on the phone. “Did he have any episodes?” It seems a kinder way of enquiring whether he had meltdowns. “Was he any trouble?”
“Hush, Little Momma.” Short turns to me with a smile. “Trip’s had a great day. He’s made friends, haven’t you, Trip?” He turns as if to include my son in the conversation.
I’m sure Short’s just being nice. How could the bikers have been okay with having my son in their midst? I decide I need to find better childcare arrangements as soon as I can. Though for that, I’d need to rely on Short’s money again, or at least for a while, until my savings build up. At least my parents won’t be taking their not-so-fair share anymore.
“Here’s the address.” I read out the details, and Short programs them into the GPS.
As he drives to the destination, he chuckles. “Trip had a number of my brothers competing as they played with that fuckin’ motorbike,” he tells me. “They played cars with him, too.”
I know how much of an imposition that probably was. “I’m so sorry, Short, for landing his care onto you.”
He shoots me a curious glance. “How many times do I have to tell you he’s my responsibility now? I’ve claimed you both. He’s my kid, too. Wasn’t any bother, and he’ll be welcome back again. Though…” he shakes his head, and lets out a barking laugh. “If he ever finds his voice, you might not like his vocabulary.”
I can imagine. Though I think that’s unlikely to be a problem. If he hasn’t uttered a word in eight years, I can’t see him improving.
Short pulls up at a house. It’s a big two-storey, the size of which rivals my dad’s. All of a sudden, I’m frightened of what I’m about to walk into. This woman is a doctor, and to help Trip, I’ve got to be honest with her. What if she doesn’t believe my story?
Dad was struck off. He’s hardly of admirable character. But what if she knows him and betrays me?
Short touches my hand. “It’s going to be alright, darlin’. Do you want me to come inside, or stay in the truck?”
“Do you mind coming in, but stay in the waiting room?” Something tells me I need him to be close by.
“Whatever you want.” He turns to look over his shoulder. “Trip, you and your momma are going to meet a nice lady. Shejust wants to talk to you. I’ll be outside waiting. Just be good for your momma, yeah?”
I appreciate him trying to explain the situation to Trip, but I’ve lived with him for years, not just days. I know it’s a lost cause. But I keep quiet. Short is banking on some breakthrough, that Trip will somehow turn out to be a normal child. I’ve accepted that his genetics are against him. He never had a chance from the start.
“Bron?” Short gets my attention. “I know you’ve suppressed everything for years, that you don’t like talking about your past. But you’ve got to, for Trip’s sake. Therapists are non-judgmental and are there for you. Don’t waste this chance to get help for you both.”
After considering his words, I ask, “Do you mind if I go in and speak to her alone, and leave Trip with you?”
“Expected that, darlin’. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
This man. Whatever did I do to deserve him?
As we exit the car and approach the building, I try to gather the strength I’ll need to do what I have to. I’ll have to lay all my sordid secrets out for a stranger to trawl through, and see the judgment in their eyes.
