Page 37 of Come Back To Me

She climbs out of her car, her body wound tight. “Babe?” I say removing my helmet, hoping she’ll explain why she’s only just getting home.

“Hey,” she says flippantly.

“Hey?” I question. “What’s going on? Everything alright?” I can hear my voice on the edge of panic. I swear to God with each month that passes with her pregnancy, the more ridiculous I’m becoming.

“I’m fine,” Mads says as if trying to reassure me, but I heard the wobble in her voice.

Walking to the door, we’re both silent as I keep looking her up and down. We walk in, dropping our bags and my helmet. “Start talking.”

Mads lifts her hands to her head, her shoulders slightly jumping up and down.

“Mads?” I walk straight to her and pull her into my arms. My hands hold her, one keeping her head against my chest, the other on her back as she sobs. “Babe, what happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s happened.”

I pull back, cupping her face to make her look at me. “Is it the baby?”

She shakes her head.

“Where’ve you been?” A lone tear drips to her cheek. I use my thumb to wipe it away.

“The baby’s fine. It’s Lauren,” she says, her voice fractured. “She… she might be coming to the school tomorrow. I, had an email, telling me she would be there.”

“Lauren?” I ask shocked.

Mads nods her head.

That is a surprise. I wonder if her uncle knows? “Okay, but how does an email make you this late getting home?”

Mads sniffs, and I let her face go. Drying her damp eyes, shelooks at me, deflated.

“Tell me,” I say softly.

“I,” her voice unexpectedly cracks as she starts to speak.

I cup the side of her face, my fingers curling behind her ear and onto her neck. “Mads?” I encourage her to continue.

“I don’t know what’s the right thing to do… what if I’m a bad mum?” she blurts out, making my heart knock against my ribs.

It’s clear that the notion of seeing Lauren has my girl questioning herself. But thinking she’ll be a bad mum? Impossible. “Let me look at you,” I say, and I brush the strands of hair stuck to her damp cheek behind her ear. “The night that Rocco died,” my heart strains as Mads takes in a breath. “I watched you put your body in front of Lauren so that she didn’t get hurt. I watched you shut your eyes and prepare yourself to take a bullet for a kid you owe nothing to.”

She closes her eyes pushing out more tears. I can still picture Alex’s hand shaking as he held up the gun and pointed it at her.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant then, but when I think about it now… it tears my fucking insides apart, knowing you could have died, and I wouldn’t have known you were carrying my child. Mads?”

Saying her name, I need her to look at me. But her eyes are clamped shut. When I say her name again, she sniffs back the emotion and swallows hard. Her eyes finally find mine. “Don’t ever fucking question whether you’ll be a good mum or not.” As if needing to make sure she really hears what I’m saying, I move my hand to her neck, cupping her chin, rendering her unable to look away as I say, “Because you knew you were pregnant, and yet you were willing to sacrifice everything you’ve ever wanted, to ensure that a kid with her whole life ahead of her, survived.”

The tears stream down her face but she keeps her eyes focused on me. “If that isn’t being a good mum, or isn’t someone who knows what the right thing to do is when the time comes,then the world is a far shittier, fucked up place than I thought.”

My lips part as I take in air. My breath hitches. Wiping her cheek, I slide my hand behind her head and lower my mouth to hers. It’s a hard kiss, one that’s stealing her breath but is built on pure, overriding emotion.

Mads grabs my neck and deepens the kiss, before she pulls back, catching her breath. “I drove around trying to find her. I know I said I wouldn’t do that again… but I just thought, maybe, if she is coming to school tomorrow, then maybe she would be close by. I thought I would find her.”

My heart sinks at her words. They were dark days for Mads, the first few weeks after losing Rocco and more so, Lauren. Pulling her into my arms again, I hold her tighter. “I would have come with you,” I whisper into her hair, then kiss the top of her head.

She sighs. “I was going to ask you to. But you were busy.”

Fuck. My black heart twists and sinks. “I’m sorry,” I say, because I really fucking am. She shouldn’t be driving around at night, on her own, trying to right a wrong that’s not even hers to right.

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