All I Am: Drew's Story

  “You too!” Georgia runs off to the bench, and Raya immediately turns, jogging away from me without another word.

  I stand like an idiot in the doorway, at a loss for what to do. What the hell? She’s just going to run off?

  “Raya!” I shout, going after her. I’ve come too far now to let her walk away. “Raya, wait!” I skid to a stop when she abruptly swings around, her face stony. I gulp, wary, backing up a little.

  “You bastard,” she seethes, her rage potent. “I spilled my fucking life to you. I was even considering not leaving at all, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me you have a daughter?”

  “I was going to tell you,” I blurt, my panic clear.

  “When? After I’d decided to throw away my traveling dreams?”

  “I didn’t know where to start,” I admit, hopelessness consuming me. “I’ve always kept Georgia away from the women I’ve…”

  “Fucked?” She finishes for me. A huge flinch, and not just from me, but from Raya, too. And then there’s fierceness in her eyes. So much fierceness it actually scares me. “Of course, my mistake.” She backs down, though her eyes still harbor a frightening amount of ferocity. “And I asked for it.”

  “Raya, don’t.” I can see her backing away, and I won’t be able to go after her. I quickly look over my shoulder to check on Georgia, finding her happily passing the time away stuffing her ice cream. “It’s a big deal for us. It’s only ever been me and her.” I return forward, not liking the further distance she’s put between us. “I didn’t want to tell her until I knew what was going on myself.”

  Hurt. This expression on Raya is the one I hate the most, and I despise myself for causing it. “It’s not about telling her, Drew. It’s about telling me.” Her eyes flick to Georgia as she continues to put more distance between us. “You were willing to let me make a life-changing decision without being honest with me.” Raya looks back to me. “Trust you, that’s what you told me. Thanks for bringing me back down to Earth.” She pivots and jogs off, and all I can do is stand and watch her run out of my life.

  Chapter 11

  It’s after ten o’clock by the time I’ve got Georgia off to sleep, and never has a glass of red tasted so good. In my boxers, I slump on the couch and flick through the sports channels, restlessly searching for something to watch. Something to help me wind down. There’s no peace to be found, not when my head is hurting so much. What’s bothering me most, though, is whether Raya walking away was a result of my dishonesty, or whether she’s put off by the fact that I have Georgia. Both are as equally hard to stomach. I sigh, so fucking mad with myself.

  Giving up on the TV, I finish my wine and head for bed. Sleep might help wash my mind clean.

  Peeking in on Georgia, I tiptoe to her bed and listen for the sounds of her shallow breathing, tuck her sprawled leg under the duvet, and kiss her forehead. “Love you, pidge.” She mumbles sleepily, flipping over and nuzzling down.

  I nearly make it to my own bed when a loud crash deafens me. “What the hell?” I shoot back to Georgia’s room, finding she’s still sound asleep. More crashes. I follow the echo to the front door and pull it open, alert and ready for what lies beyond.

  “Coral?” I release the door just in time to catch her when she stumbles forward.

  “Drew!” she slurs, grappling at my arms to cling onto me. “My baby daddy!”

  “You’re smashed,” I mutter, hauling her up but not daring to release her, for she would surely land on her face. Part of me wants to let her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to take you back.”

  I roll my eyes, dipping to toss her over my shoulder. “We were never together in the first place, Coral.” I stride through to the lounge and drop her on the couch, not as roughly as I should. She writhes and squirms to sit up. “Look at the state of you. How did you get here?”

  “A taxi.” She reaches for my T-shirt and hauls me forward. “Take me to bed and wrap me up in those chains you love so much.”

  “Coral, keep it down. Georgia’s asleep.” I brush her off and storm off to the kitchen to get her some water, fighting the urge to throw her out. I might hate the woman for what she did to me, but, like it or not—and I don’t like it—she’s the mother of my girl. Georgia would be heartbroken if anything happened to her. I have an obligation to make sure the drunken bitch is kept out of harm’s way while she personally can’t see to it herself. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and traipse back to the lounge, finding Coral slumped back.

  “Here.” I unscrew the top and hold it out to her. One eye closed, she reaches for the bottle, missing by a mile. “For God’s sake, Coral.” I sit beside her and feed her water.

  “See. You can be nice to me.”

  “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for my daughter.”

  “She’s my daughter, too, you know.” It’s all a slur.

  “Unfortunately, yes, I do know. But I wouldn’t have, had Sam not caught you sneaking out of my apartment the night you took advantage of me.” This is weird. Not once have we ever talked about it. Not once in eight years. I could barely bring myself to look at the woman for the whole of her pregnancy.

  When Georgia was born, my attention was firmly on my baby, whereas Coral’s attention was on me. It was one of those beautiful moments in time, a new life born, a time when hatred and grievances should be forgotten. I could tell by Coral’s hopeful face that she thought we could move forward from there. I could move forward, sure. Just not with her.

  “Why does no one want me?” she whines, crashing into my side.

  “Because you’re a scheming, manipulative bitch,” I quip, half in gest, but mostly serious.

  She smacks my bare thigh. “You’re single, too. No one wants you either. Or your chains.” Dragging her heavy head up, she pouts at me. “I’d let you wrap me up in your chains.”

  “Coral, if I wrapped you up in my chains, I would never let you free, and not because I was turned on.”

  “You’re mean to me.”

  “I’m letting your drunken arse sleep in my apartment.” I get up, and with my lack of support she crumples to the couch with no hope of getting up again. “Should I lock my bedroom door so you can’t rape me again?”

  She snorts, and it’s with amusement. “You wouldn’t be without Georgia now and you know it.”

  I can’t argue with that. “I’ll get a blanket.”

  By the time I’ve found a fleece throw and made it back to the sofa, she’s snoring. “What a state,” I say to myself, covering her up, tucking her in more carefully than she deserves.

  I sigh, shaking my head. Then I go and fall into my long-awaited bed.

  Chapter 12

  I feel weird this morning. As I lay in my sleepy darkness, I try to wrap my sleepy mind around my sleepy memories. I roll onto my side and collide with something, and I smile. Raya.

  Then everything comes back to me—her words, her running away from me. So who’s…? My eyes spring open.

  “Morning.” Coral is sprawled out beside me. And she’s naked. Fucking naked. Except for a smug smile.

  “What the fuck, Coral!” I jump up, too panicked to pay any attention to the pain that just bolted through my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

  She slides out and pulls on one of my T-shirts as she struts out of my bedroom as if she could live here. “Coffee?” she calls.

  I look down my body, cringing when I see I’m naked, too. “What the hell are you playing at?” I shout, stamping after her as I fight my way into some boxers.

  I find her helping herself to the kitchen, not at all affected by my fury. “You need to leave.” I march over and pull an empty mug from her hand, slamming it down on the side.

  She smiles, all satisfied. It’s as much as I can do not to slap it off her face. “What are you so scared of, Drew?”

  My jaw immediately aches with the force of my bite. “I’m not scared, Coral. I’m livid. Get out.” />
  She huffs, refusing to allow my rage to penetrate her as she passes me. My head drops back, searching the heavens for some restraint.

  The doorbell is the only thing that saves Coral from being strangled. There can be no witnesses.

  “I’ll get it!” she calls, dancing her way to the front door while I snarl at her back. She swings the door open.

  And I die.

  “No…” I breathe.

  Raya hasn’t seen me just yet, her eyes set on Coral, who’s draped seductively in the door frame wearing next to nothing. “Can I help you?”

  Raya frowns. “I’m looking for Drew.”

  “You’ve found him.” Coral moves back, revealing me in all of my glory, boxers the only thing between me and stark bollock naked. I’m so fucking mad. So fucking mad, I can’t even speak.

  Raya’s face is a picture of devastation, but I’m paralyzed by my anger, can’t even move my fucking eyeballs, let alone speak. As if this could get any worse, Georgia appears, too, making it a lovely wholesome scene of happy fucking families. “Mummy!” she squeals, running into Coral’s waiting arms. “Hey, Raya! Mummy, this is Dad’s friend. Her name is Raya.”

  Coral casts an interested look my way. “Daddy’s friend, huh?”

  Raya’s eyes meeting mine. The shock and hurt are rife. And there are tears. Fucking tears, caused by me. I want to stab myself repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” she chokes. “I shouldn’t have come.” She turns quickly on her flip-flops and darts away.

  The door slamming snaps me back to life, followed by Georgia sprinting off into the kitchen in search of Coco Pops. I can’t see straight for the red mist sliding down my vision. I can’t breathe past the anger filling my lungs. “She seemed nice,” Coral says flippantly, slinking past me. I reach for her arm, grabbing it harshly. She’s pushed me too far. Drained me of patience.

  I turn burning eyes onto her. “I fucking hate you.” I keep my voice low, mindful that Georgia is in the next room. I’ve sustained my civility for seven years in the presence of my little girl. I’m not about to change that now, no matter how much I’m seething.

  “I’m sorry; shouldn’t I have answered the door?” Her face is so smug.

  “Get out.”

  “Oh my God.” She laughs, cold and cruel, yanking her arm from my grip and pointing to the door. “You mean to tell me you have feelings for her?” Her grin is sly. Cunning. She knew exactly what she was doing at that front door. “Why the hell would she want you?” she asks. “All you know what to do is fuck. And what is she, twenty?” More laughter. “Jesus, Drew. Any younger and you’ll be dating Georgia’s school friends.”

  “Shut up, Coral.”

  “Besides, she’s going to Australia.”

  I recoil, alert. “How do you know that?”

  She shrugs, like it’s of no consequence. “She texted you. I might have answered for you.”

  My mouth drops open. “You did what?” I race to the bedroom to find my phone, frantically pulling up the messages. And there it is, a message from Raya telling me how sorry she is for her reaction, but she was shocked. She asks if we can talk. And I answer telling her to come over. She came here with hope. To try and fix things. And she got a strong dose of Coral instead.

  Rage.

  I turn and find Coral in the bedroom with me, a slap-worthy satisfied look on her face. God help me before I throttle her. I pace over, my nostrils flaring, and push my face close to hers. “Get the fuck out before I throw you out.”

  “Fine.”

  “And take Georgia.” I turn and head for the bathroom, mentally planning what I need to do. Coral being here has served like a detoxing scrub on my life. Backward, yes, given she’s the most toxic woman I’ve met. But it’s clarity amid my chaos. I’m such a fool!

  I’m so set in my ways, they’ll bury me with my fucking chains. Chains that are now wrapped around my heart and being tightened by the second. I need to find Raya. I need to spill my heart. I need to stop stalling. God, what must she think? Secret daughter, secret woman.

  “I can’t take Georgia,” Coral declares, stopping me at the bathroom door. “I have things to do.” She pulls on her dress and snatches up her bag. She doesn’t have things to do. She’s trying to hamper my rescue attempt.

  “Coral, please.” I’m not past begging at this point. I need to fix this fuckup, and I can’t very well do that with Georgia in tow.

  She smiles, tight and condemning. “Bye.”

  “I hate you,” I seethe, thumping the doorframe.

  “Why change the habit of a lifetime?” Off she goes, the fucking bitch.

  The doorframe receives another thump at the same time the front door slams. “Urghhhhh!” I dash out to the kitchen to find Georgia drowning in Coco Pops, the bowl overflowing. She yelps as I lift her from the stool, the spoon hanging out of her mouth.

  “Daddy!” Chocolate milk leaves a trail behind us as I cart her out of the kitchen to the bathroom. “Daddy, what are you doing?”

  “We’re going on an adventure.” I plonk her on her feet and flip the shower on.

  “An adventure?” She’s excited before she even knows where this adventure is taking us. “What kind?”

  I put her in the shower, squirt some shampoo into her hair and start lathering it up.

  Her innocence is beautiful, a light in my dark world. Grabbing a towel, I wrap her up and get down to her face level. “Remember Raya?” I ask.

  “Your friend?”

  “Yes, but I don’t just want to be her friend.” I take a quick drag of air, bracing myself to spill the deal. “I want to be her boyfriend.” I feel like I’ve just confessed a sin.

  Georgia’s face is totally blank. What’s she thinking? “You love her?”

  Love? I sigh, my eyes drifting from hers for a moment, as I think. Real hard. Is that what this is? The pain, the constant mixed-up state I’m in? The possessiveness, the wild reactions? Good God, I’m in love? “Yeah,” I whisper, pulling it all together, each piece clicking into place like an important part of the puzzle. “I think I do.” I return my attention to my little girl, praying she will accept this.

  Georgia’s face is a picture of shock. I can’t blame her. Daddy’s never had a girlfriend. I take the tops of her arms, holding her tightly. “Pidge, this won’t change anything. You’ll still be number one.”

  “But there will be Raya, too.”

  “Well, maybe.” That’s if she’ll even listen to me. Give me a chance to explain, and then I have to stop her leaving. That’s what I’m most worried about. That she’ll go anyway, regardless of my desperate attempt to stop her.

  As I look at my daughter, I see something building, and just when I’m certain she’s about to start crying on me, she literally bursts. “Quick!” she darts out of the bathroom, her speed unreal. “We need to find Raya and tell her you love her!” There are a collection of bangs and clatters, all drawers being pulled open and shoved shut. “I’ll wear a pretty dress!”

  If I had time, I would cry with relief. But I don’t. So I match my girl’s urgency and rush to the shower.

  Within ten minutes, I’m racing around my apartment getting dressed on the move, searching for my keys. “Georgia, have you seen Daddy’s keys?”

  “Nope!”

  “Damn it!” I turn out every drawer in my kitchen until I lay my hands on the spare set. “Let’s go.”

  By the time we’ve made it down to the garage, I’m sweating. I hurry us across to my parking space, my parking space that’s minus my car. It takes a split second to figure out where it is. “No!” I yell, stomping over and standing where my car should be, circling, looking down, like I might find my Merc in one of the cracks in the concrete. “I can’t believe that woman!” I pull my phone out and dial Coral, turning away from Georgia’s alarmed face and hunkering, making my voice quiet and low, but I’m barely keeping my violence leashed. “You took my car,” I hiss when she answers.

  “Planning on going somewhere?”

 
The strength of my grip around my phone would cut off her breathing in seconds if I had hold of her neck. I so wish I had hold of her neck. “You’re evil, Coral.”

  “Oh, get over it. I’m doing you a favor.”

  I hang up before I wreck seven years’ worth of effort to keep my hatred for Georgia’s mother contained when she’s around. Then I put in an emergency call. “Jesse, I need a favor.”

  * * *