Page 43 of Under Ground

“Of course.” And that’s true. But I read a lot when Casey’s asleep and that’s my entertainment. My life hasn’t really lent itself to much more than that. It’s what happens when you’re alone and you fall pregnant.

“Well, he’s been in quite a few things. Though nothing like this movie, and I hear he’s up for a part opposite Reece Evans.”

I draw in a sharp breath. “I don’t know a lot about his work. He’s just Alex.” Alex hasn’t asked me not to say anything, but the last thing I want to do is put his work at risk.

She smiles. “That is so cute. Make sure you ask him about his friends.”

“Sure.”

* * *

In the early evening, Casey sits at the coffee table, a sausage in one hand, her eyes glued to the television. Her upbringing is so different to mine, and I’m glad for it. She’ll be able to dream big and go for it, and I’ll be right behind her.

The sheltered life I lived is so far behind me, and I don’t miss it in the slightest. Freedom never meant much until I had it. And while the last few years have been hard, everything now is so good.

“Finish.” Casey licks her fingers.

“Good girl. Can you go and wash your hands now?”

“My tongue washed my hands.”

I chuckle. Her act makes me laugh every time, and it shouldn’t because it’s old and not really that funny. She’s just lucky she’s cute. “I’m sure it did a good job, but I think soap does a better one. Go on.”

She runs up the hallway and I shake my head. I love my girl with all my heart. Life’s been hard, but she’s been a blessing in the darker times. There’s no way I’d do anything differently when it comes to Casey.

Gathering up her plate to wash, I take in a deep breath and smile at the thought of Alex coming over. Tonight I’m going to tell him what I couldn’t this morning. I’m falling in love with him. And I want to be with him—I just don’t know how.

And now Casey’s busted us, there’s no point in hiding that he’s spending nights with me.

After loading the dishwasher, I walk into the living room to find Casey leaning on the coffee table, back to watching TV.

“It’s time for bed now, Casey.”

“I want this.” She points at the screen.

I scoop her up into my arms and nuzzle her neck. She shrieks with laughter. “No. It’s bedtime. Let’s get teeth brushed and into pyjamas. I’ll read you a story.”

Her eyes are wide. “Hairy Maclary?”

“If you like.”

By the time we get to the end of the tale about Hairy Maclary meeting his friends, her little lips are pursed and she snorts before rolling onto her side.

God, how I love this kid with every fibre of my being. She’s my everything.

I lean over and brush my lips against her forehead.

She lets out a sigh, raises her hand to rub her nose and her head does that final flop against the pillow that tells me she’s deep asleep. I’m sure it’s just a phase, but when I read to her, it doesn’t take long.

She’s so beautiful that I grab my sketch pad from the living room and return to her bedside. It takes me a few moments to capture that look—I can flesh it out later. Maybe when it’s more difficult to get her to sleep, I can look back and remember when times were good.

After rising, I walk back through to the living room. Thank god it’s Friday. At least if Casey wakes early tomorrow, we don’t have to go anywhere.

The tap on the door knocks me out of my thoughts, and I walk, then run.

This is it—I’m going to tell this man how I feel and take a leap.

I jerk the door open.

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