Page 107 of Mommy

Looking back at his sleeping figure I feel a kind of ache somewhere in my chest. Part of me wanted to lay down with him, snuggle into his chest and breathe in his familiar scent. But I can’t do that. It would’ve felt like a violation after what I told him yesterday. It’s as if me telling him created a wall between us, and I’m not brave enough to be the one to climb over it and drop into the depths on the other side.

Before I make myself a drink, I check on the puppies, taking them out and letting them into the back garden with Posie.

From the glass terrace door, I watch as they crawl over the morning frosted grass.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing there, staring out into the yard and breathing in the chilly autumn air, but when Derek comes up behind me, he hands me a steaming cup of coffee.

“Good morning, princess.”

The way he so casually throws around nicknames is making my heart stumble inside my chest, and I feel a blush rise into my cheeks.

“Good morning, handsome.” I mumble back on a whispered breath.

“How are you feeling?”

Wrapping my hands around the mug, I shrug my shoulders against his chest.

“Good.” I lie, not sure how I’m supposed to explain how I really feel.

Raw is the only word that feels fitting.

Like I walked in uncomfortable shoes for too long, and they left my feet aching even now that I removed them.

Derek’s hand comes to rest on my hips, pulling me closer to his bare chest. It’s comforting to know that he’s still here, and I’m thankful that he’s climbing the wall I was too afraid to cross.

I drop one of my hands from the mug and go to stroke over his hand that rests on my belly, but he flinches and I pull back.

Confusion knots my brows.

Looking down I find his hands swollen and the knuckles bruised. Open cuts of various sizes are scattered over his beautiful tan skin, making a gasp claw its way up my throat.

He found him.

I don’t know why, but I am certain these wounds come from him repaying the pain he thought Alex caused me.

I don’t need to ask him how or what, I just know that he managed to find Alex. And I don’t want to know what he looks like right now.

I caused this.

The guilt I feel is so heavy in my stomach I think I’m going to be sick. Even when logically I know that I didn’t lie about what happened, the trained guilt in my belly clenches my innards uncomfortably.

“Don’t overthink it, Sweetheart, he needed to learn that lesson.”

Derek’s thumb brushes over the sliver of exposed skin on my stomach, but the sickness doesn’t go away. Instead it intensifies and after a good 10 seconds I excuse myself and race for the bathroom.

Nothing comes out of me except bile, but I still feel better after a few heaves. As if my body needed to cleanse itself from the thoughts and they spewed from my lips together with the yellow liquid I managed to bring up.

Back in the living room, Derek is already making breakfast for the both of us.

He’s topless, only wearing his low hanging joggers that make him look like a misplaced teenager. Like he belongs in a slightly messy apartment instead of a perfectly furnished house with a huge front yard.

“Are you okay, Sweety?”

Another nickname. It’s like he refuses to use my actual name unless we are being serious. It fills my heart to the brim, making me feel warm and fuzzy and happy.

“Yeah, that was weird.” I slump into one of the bar stools across the kitchen island and watch as he slices pre-cocked steak into small pieces. It already looks delicious and I’m tempted to reach a hand out to snag a piece, but⁠—

“But you’re feeling better now?” Derek’s eyes are on me as he offers me a slice of meat with the tip of his knife.