Page 53 of Hired Help

“But he’s a ten-minute drive away.”

I lean my forehead against the top of her hair, wrapping my arms tighter around her. “Gwyn told me he was boarding at a private school in Auckland. I had no idea he was down here.”

It pains me to know the girl I’m holding has probably spent more time with my son than I have. It hurts to ask her questions when I should know the answers.

I’m ashamed I didn’t do more to stay close, that I didn’t fight harder to remain in his life.

“Has he been down here long?” Brooke tenses, and I whisper, “It’s okay. If you’re awkward talking behind his back, I understand.”

“It’s not…” She breathes out a long sigh, then says, “I don’t mind answering your questions, but I’m worried it’ll hurt you.”

I don’t know how to respond to that. While I’m still trying to come up with an answer, she admits, “He’s been going to Kingswood since year ten.”

Three years.

He’s been in the same city as me for three years and I never knew.

Rather than an annoying buzz, this wake-up call is a hard slap across the face. “What did he say about me?”

She pulls away, turning inside my embrace so she can read my expression. “That you weren’t in his life. You’d cheated on his mum and left to be with another woman.”

The story is so bizarrely unrelated to my actual story that I’m confused into silence.

“I don’t know much more than that,” Brooke says apologetically. “He told me your profession once, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t ask.”

She shivers and I pull her back into position against me, holding on like she’s the last solid thing in my life.

“I’m sorry if I mucked things up between you two.”

I laugh because it’s that or have a complete mental breakdown. “We were in trouble long before you came along.” The anxiety is still pumping off her in waves and give her a tickle until she squirms. “But I’m happy to blame you if you’d prefer that. All part of the service.”

She laughs, relief in every note. “Your service is very thorough.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Does this mean…?” She squirms again, this time the architect of her own discomfort. “I know it’s awkward, but can I keep seeing you? As your fucktoy?”

The word sounds so strange coming from her mouth that I laugh, hugging her close to me. “You’re not a toy, Brooke. You’re more like an explosive device.”

It’s not an answer but I close my eyes, burying my face into her hair, wishing she was nothing and no one to Harrison so I could ask her to be whatever I wanted.

“You know, I only restarted my listing to earn the money to buy this house.” Even I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I hum to clear my throat while I wait to see what my mouth will produce next. “My dad always stressed the importance of home and family to me, and after my family didn’t want my any longer, I think I chased this goal because at least it was still attainable.”

The pain behind the loss sweeps through me, thoughts I don’t often allow the space to take root in my mind. Brooke’s fingers curve along the side of my cheek, brushing from the skin to my beard, offering more comfort than she knows.

“What you did to us was awful.” I speak the words softly, but they carry a powerful blow. When I lift my hand to cover hers, I feel it trembling. “It was awful, but it would be terrible to lose you, too. I’m just scared to hurt my son more than I have already.”

“I could hide it from him.”

The confidence of her youth shines through; too inexperienced to understand there are some debts you can’t evade so easily. “No. He’ll find out if he wants to know and I don’t want you to lie to him. Not on my behalf.”

Her tension transmits to me, my muscles stiffening until I shift on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable pose.

The image of Harrison from earlier in the night fills my mind. I try to see through the haze of shock and fury, to see the man he became without me.

I will reach out to him again. I must. And I’ll keep pushing this time, not letting the pain and fear rebuff me. I make the promise and breathe a little easier.

There’s every chance he’ll never let me reconnect and I have to accept that, but that knowledge offers its own freedom.

---