Page 18 of Because of Her

I want Maisie to have a strong relationship with her maternal grandparents just as much as I want her to have a strong relationship with my family, but I’m not okay with missing out on my time with her for it to happen. This feels like the final straw, and my lenience around our custody arrangement is about to crack.

“She hasn’t seen them in months,” Audrey says, her hand flying around in front of her face as though she can wave off my shock.

“But we agreed I would see her Saturdays.” I fumble the response, my teeth grinding as I draw in a long, slow breath.

“And it’s not fair you get all the fun Saturdays and I get all the hard work during the week.”

“So we’ll start following the custody agreement youagreedto. We alternate weeks, swap out picking her up from Kindergarten Friday afternoons. You know I’m settled now, I’ve got a space set up for her.”

I tap my knuckle against my sternum before bringing my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t keep having this same conversation and getting nowhere. We discuss our so-called ‘custody agreement’ almost weekly, but Audrey still hasn’t budged from her belief that Maisie needs more time to settle. If anything, it’s Audrey who’s not ready to let go. Which isn’t fair on Maisie. Or me.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I add once I have my breathing under control.

Disney songs blare through the house and I silently curse knowing one will be sure to end up stuck in my head all day. Audrey stands, frozen, staring at me.

“So don’t,” she jabs. “If you don’t want to be part of Maisie’s life, don’t be.”

Her arms fold across her heaving chest. “I should have known this was coming,” she adds, shaking her head.

“That’s not what I meant.” I take a step closer, towering over her just enough so she has to tilt her head to look me in the eye.

“I mean,” I drawl, “I need to see her more. The custody agreement was signed by both of us, you need to follow it.”

“She needs consistency, stability. Your leaving has been enough of a change. I won’t have her living out of a backpack.”

“Me leaving?” My muscles tighten in response, hands flexing to ease a fraction of the tension. I remind myself not to raise my voice above the Disney tunes coming from the living room. “It was not my choice to leave.” My jaw clenches as I stare down at Audrey. “Youdecided it makes more sense for me to move since I was travelling furthest for work.Youare deciding how little Maisie sees me.Youwanted this. Not me.”

I take a few steps back, walk out of the front door and down the step onto the porch. My blood boils, but my rational brain knows an outburst of anger will not win me any favours. Audrey huffs as she follows me, stopping at the entrance to the house.

“Take her to see your parents on Saturday, but I’ll come pick her up Sunday morning. You need to let me see her more, or you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” I state over my shoulder as I walk down the driveway. I don’t like threatening Audrey with lawyers and family court, but I’m done playing nice when it comes to my daughter. I will do whatever it takes to see her more.

And I’m starting to think I’ll have to use my family connections again after all.

Returning to the apartment, the adrenaline is still flooding through me. I want to punch something. To scream. Balling my hands into fists, I squeeze as I stomp up the stairs to my apartment. Emotion flickering and wavering with every step, it hits me when I reach the third floor landing. So close to my new place, yet so far from anywhere that feels homely. I place my hands on the wall under the tiny window and lean forward. My forehead rests against the cool glass as I rake in breaths and try to blink away the moisture in my eyes.

And then I smell her.

Hints of lavender first, followed by something fruity and sweet. It smells like home, and a wave of reassurance that doesn’t belong creeps along my spine.

I push myself to stand upright, but not before Cassidy rounds the corner and sees me heaving like the contents of my stomach are making their way back up. My heart feels like it forgot how to beat, and with every short breath, my lungs feel tighter. I focus on the rapid rise and fall of my chest as I work to prevent my lunch from making a reappearance.

“Callum?”

There is concern in her far away voice as she rushes over and guides me to the floor. My vision fades.

Cassidy’s hands are on my legs, pulling them up. I try to focus on the feeling, willing my body to calm down.

“Breathe,” she whispers, as she moves her hands to my cheeks. Slowly, she guides my head down until it’s between my knees.

She’s behind me, her legs on either side of me with her chest pressed against my back. I can feel her rise and fall with each breath she takes.

“Breathe with me,” she says as she starts counting. “One … two … three … four.”

She inhales deeply, counts again as she stills, and once more as she exhales. Reaching around, Cassidy taps her knuckles on my sternum. In time with her counts, the steady beat gives me something to focus on. Just the way I used to do it. She repeats the process until my breaths fall in line with hers.

“I think you had a panic attack,” she whispers.

“You remembered the tappy thing.”

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