Everly

“I have to go.”

After the awkward conversation to end all awkward conversations, Cam’s cell had rung. Everything about him had changed—his shoulders slumped, his face a grim mask of defeat. He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “That was the care centre. They need me. My dad—”

“Of course. Say no more.” I flicked off the oven, screwed the lid on the cookie jar, and shoved the ice cream balls back in the freezer. Everything else could wait.

Cameron charged through the house to the living room, wheeling the pram out the front door, and I locked it behind us, following him up the street. The events of the past five minutes still had me reeling. What just happened? His touch, his lips—a shiver ran down my spine. He was electric, and I’d been powerless to stop his charge.

When I was little, I remembered swimming at the beach. Mum had been “watching” me, only it turned out her eyes were far more focused on the lifeguards and less on her ten-year-old daughter. I’d swum out, and out, and out, until a strong current took hold of me, pushing me farther from shore. Panic had seized my body. I’d raised my hand to try and attract attention, called out, but nobody heard. Instead, the sea tugged me along, taking me toward the treacherous rocks that spiked up like angry teeth at the bottom of the cliff face.

Thankfully, a lifeguard had seen my plight and was waiting there to scoop me up to safety. He returned me to my mother, who’d laughed the whole incident off as if it were nothing. And I guess, to her, it was. She hadn’t seen how far out I’d gone. She hadn’t felt that utter lack of control, that helplessness—that terror—as I was taken away without being able to do a thing about it.

That was exactly how I felt now. As if I was being swept along in a current, headed for potential disaster, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I didn’t know why he was so desperate to go to his father, but I knew I could be Cam’s friend in this time of need. I knew I could occupy Piper if he needed to give his hands and his heart to his family.

I could do that because that was what friends did.

The sentence no longer held conviction in my mind. No. I wasn’t his friend. After that kiss … Hot tongue, inviting mouth, hard body. I melted into the memory like sauce over a chocolate cake, decadent and oozy. I had feelings for him. Feelings that hurt like hell at his rejection.

Feelings that could never go anywhere.

End of story.

The whole car ride to the care centre, Cam remained stoic, his eyes on the road, but I didn’t doubt that his mind was a million miles away, back at the day in the café when his world had exploded into pieces.

“You look like you’re petrified I’m going to kiss you again,” I said lightly, trying to ease some of the tension in his raised shoulders, his white knuckles.

“Huh,” he scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Okay, Mr Runs Away After One Kiss. But just so you know, I get that you’re going through something. Something happened in your past. And now, the very idea of trusting someone else with your heart scares you.” I kicked my feet up on the dash, letting the sun warm my legs.

He didn’t say anything. Piper gave a cry-cough in the background.

“You have an adorable baby girl back there, and I’d love to help you out with her whenever you need a hand.” As a friend. Because that’s what friends do.

It was like if I thought the words enough, I’d make them true.

Piper cried, and Cam pulled over. Once we worked out she was probably hungry, he let me sit in the back and feed the little cutie the rest of the way to the centre.

Holding that bottle above her mouth …

I want this. I want a child of my own.

That familiar ache stretched over my heart and tightened its hold. I held out my pinkie finger. Piper wrapped four chubby fingers of her own around it. She gave me a sweet smile around the teat of the bottle. Oh, God.

It hurt.

It hurt, but at the same time, it felt so beautiful. So real.

So right.

In another world … another time, another place …

Why couldn’t this have been mine?

The car jerked to a stop. My mind jerked to the present.

Cameron fled from the vehicle as if Hades were hot on his heels. I unbuckled Piper and followed him in, careful to give him space but not wanting to get lost. Not wanting him to get lost in the dark recess of his mind.

I figured out the pram, clipped the pieces together and secured Piper in it before walking inside the sprawling brick building Cam had raced toward.

“Morning, dear,” a woman behind the desk said.

“Morning.” I smiled. “I’m here with Cameron Lewis.”

“Cameron Lewis?” She raised her eyebrows, her gaze going from me, to Piper, and back again, and I wanted to step in front of the child and shield her from whatever judgment was being passed.

“He just ran in here because his father is sick. I’m sure you can figure out who I’m referring to.” I kept a smile on my face the whole time, but I knew my eyes conveyed what I really meant. Back off, bitch.

“Of course. Please sign in here.” She gestured to the clipboard in front of her, and I thanked her as I scribbled my name and Cameron’s in the empty space.

“Thank you. Would you be so kind as to point me in the direction of Mr Lewis’s room?” I asked, handing the board back over.

“Down the hall. Turn left after the window. Fifth door on the right.” She pointed, then turned back to her computer.

I pushed Piper away, my steps brisk on the tiled floor. As I passed the window, it became clear.

I didn’t have to ask for directions.

The screaming gave it away.

Cameron’s father yelled as if his life were being stripped from his body. My heart ached for him. That poor man. To have lived through so much. To have lost so much …

I waited in the corridor, singing a nursery rhyme to Piper while I googled his name. It felt rude to be doing this now, but until I started talking to Cam at the lookout that day, I hadn’t given his father much thought. It had always been about Bella to me. Now, it seemed pertinent that I know what happened to Donald Lewis so I could better cope with whatever fallout was to happen next.

“Humpy Dumpty sat on the wall …”

Donald Lewis. Father to Cameron, and active member of the Newcastle Yacht Club.

“Humpy Dumpty had a great fall …”

One of only two survivors of the terrorist attack.

Now a resident at Magenta Recover Centre.

“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men …”

Lost his leg.

Lost his mind …

“Couldn’t put Humpty together …” My voice faltered. I couldn’t finish the song.

I slipped the phone back in my pocket. So much tragedy had visited this family—it wasn’t fair.

A woman in blue strode out of the room, Cameron thunderous behind her. They spoke in hushed tones, and when she turned to gesture to me, to Piper, his face betrayed his emotions loud and clear. Heartache. Regret.

He muttered something else and power-walked down the hall, away from his father. Away from Piper and me.

Should I take her for a walk? Give him space?

No, I decided. Helping others. That was what had helped me when I was stuck in the depths of depression. What if Piper and her needs—her innocence—could help him?

Being a parent wasn’t a part-time gig. And sometimes, being reminded of all you had to live for could stop things spiralling out of control.

Slowly, I pushed the pram to the room he’d disappeared into, stopping in the hall right outside.

His head whipped to me. Fire flashed in his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Are you okay?” I stepped closer, leaving Piper and the pram in the doorway. “That was pretty—”

“That was none of your goddamn business,” he snapped.

My jaw dropped. What?

He was angry—angry at the world, angry at the man who’d screwed them all over—I got that. And hell, he could take it out on me all he liked.

But when I looked back over my shoulder and saw the fear in that little girl’s eyes—that was not okay. That would never be okay.

I turned around, giving him the virtual finger in my mind. “I’ll just leave you to it then. When you decide to be less of an arsehole, I’ll be the one in the garden. With your daughter.”

It was my turn to storm the hell out of there, and I did, pushing the pram from the centre, past the judgmental receptionist, and out into the sunshine.

To the left of the doors, a path twisted and turned down an avenue of tall green trees. I walked, each thud of my feet against the pavement cementing my anger.

Thud.

Cameron was a jerk.

Thud.

He was a jerk in front of his daughter, someone he was supposed to love.

Thud.

He was a jerk to me, and I just wanted to be his friend, nothing more, and I—

Thud, thud, thud.

I stopped beside a rose bush, holding my breath.

Was I really angry at Cameron?

Or was I angry with myself?

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh.” Piper’s voice was low and guttural.

I breathed out a laugh. That was where I needed to focus my attention—on this gorgeous girl in front of me.

I knelt next to Piper, pointing to the flower in front of us. “See that?”

Her eyes followed my finger.

“It’s a rose.”

She looked at me expectantly, as if to say “go on”.

“It’s one of the most gifted flowers there is. It symbolises love, and friendship, and sorrow, and all sorts of things.” I paused, staring at the intricate mass of petals. “I wonder if here, it symbolises new life. A new life for those who’ve lost so much already.”

I unclipped the pram and took Piper out, then squatted beside the flower once more. She made a little noise in the back of her throat, and pointed to the bloom.

“Rose,” I said again, touching the soft petal, smelling that sweet scent. “This is a rose.”

As I turned back to Piper, a shadow fell across the ground behind her.

Cameron.

“Everly, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for how I acted toward you, and how I acted in front of Piper. I shouldn’t have snapped. It was wrong, and it won’t happen again.”

“Well, it better not.” I lifted Piper into my arms and stood, meeting his gaze. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

The word came as a complete surprise.

Perhaps the rose had been one of new life after all.