Page 19 of Stables

Standing, I grab my bag and move to outside of the doorway. “I’ll get going then. Is there anything else before I leave?”

That was a ridiculously open ended question and likely inappropriate given the circumstances.

I’m glad she shakes her head.

“No, thank you though. I really appreciate you stopping by.” Char clutches the small bottle while her other hand moves over Paisley’s head, exposing the soft curls.

“Wasn’t a problem.” I step away, the bathroom feeling much smaller than when I started.

Turning the corner, I catch a glimpse of the red stain on the kitchen floor with the broken bottle still in the middle of it.

Damn. I bet it hurts her to move at all.

There’s a fresh roll of paper towel near the fridge. I might as well just clean it up. The rest of the kitchen is clean except for that spill.

She could use the help.

It only takes me a second to wipe the floor and throw it away.

“Char?” I call from the front door.

“Yes?” She sounds like she’s moved out of the bathroom and is maybe in a bedroom?

“Are you safe?” I don’t know if I could live with myself if I thought otherwise.

“I am, thank you.” Her voice cracks slightly.

My nose wrinkles. I don’t know her enough to tell if that was a lie.

All I can do is take her at her word.

“Have a good night.” I don’t wait for a reply before leaving.

When I slide behind the wheel, I’m not sure how I feel.

I did something to help.

But it’s hollow. I’m not sure I did as much as I could.

Chapter 5

Char

Paisley is the firstto wake up, but that’s normal. Ever since Matt left, her and I have slept in the big bed.

It’s comforting having someone to cuddle with, and there’s a piece of me that always wants to make sure she’s safe.

Even on mornings like this when she’s sideways and kicking against my tender ribs to try and wiggle her way out of the covers.

“Easy, sweetie.” I try not to grimace, but it really fucking hurts. “Let’s check your diaper before you run away from Mommy.”

Thank goodness Libby helped me get everything staged and handy last night.

I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

Nope, just an asshole.

“Mommy, owwie?” Paisley’s chubby fingers reach up and brush my cheek.

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