Everything is slow. Time seems to be taking a break. I collapse on my seat, brows knitted together. A lot of thoughts contest for space in my mind, my heart shrinks as Bren’s voice echoes in my head and a new wave of anger for El uncoils inside me. Bren thought it was their fault. Does Wyn also think that way?  I straighten up at the sound of my phone going off. It is a text from Ava. To check up on me, find out the reason I skipped today’s session. I place the phone face down without replying her. If I want to feel good about myself, I will let her know. Monsters don’t need to feel good. I need to be punished for making my little girl cry. She didn’t even kiss me goodbye. That’s what makes it worse. Bren never gets that angry. Tempted to call El to beg for her forgiveness and another chance with us as a family, I turn on my laptop. El doesn’t need an apology from me. It doesn’t matter whatever I do or say, I will always remain less of a man than T. Does she eve

Brianna is awake. I race out of the office with Sophia hot on my heels, desperate to know what’s up. El’s voice swims in my head, forming a thick cloak over me. Anticipation curls my insides, I almost miss a step on my way out. My baby is awake. At the garage, I pat my pockets for the keys. Nothing. Where’s my briefcase? I groan, patting my pockets for the second time with more care as if the keys will magically appear. It does. I pull the bunch out, arm trembling as I try to hit the unlock button on the fob. I miss it the same way I missed the keys the first time.The fob drops from my hand, Sophia picks it to open the door. Inside the car, shook and unable to move with my hands tightened around the steering, I stare into space. By awake, she means not asleep, right? Not the false alarm that happened last time. “What happened?” Sophia asks once she slides into the passenger seat. &

Boundaries. I am respecting boundaries. It is what I tell myself as I pick my phone to call Lydia and have her dismiss the applicants waiting. It is the same thing I say as I tuck Brianna in bed. I smoothen the hair out of her forehead and place a kiss on her cheek. Her head rolls to the side, she blinks sleepily at me.“Hello,” I murmur, pushing back the urge to crawl in bed with her. “Daddy loves you.”“Hello,” she whispers in a scratchy voice. Her eyelids droop and her breathing evens out. She is asleep.Wait. She spoke. Brianna spoke. The realisation washes over me, my breath rushes out in shallow puffs. I thread my fingers into my hair and stare at my baby girl in awe. She fucking talked. If I left with El, I would have missed this. Tears of joy stand in my eyes, I bounce out of her room to mine. Holy fuck. She spoke to me. After a phone call to the physiotherapist and a

We are back to zero point. I am back to living in my house. The doctors said it was okay to move Brianna so I brought her home with me. She needed to leave that place anyway. It holds bad memories. My fingers tangle in my hair as I try to make sense of the designs staring back at me. It made sense in my head until I put it down. Ed attested to its nicety or did he say that to please me? I slide down the seat, hands dangling from the sides of the swivel chair. There’s a lot of adjustments to make. But I don’t feel like doing anything.The walls of my office seem to close in on me, I loosen my tie and stagger to the girls’ empty office. The respite is short-lived as I lower myself to the couch. I squeeze a toy frog as the memory comes rushing back. El was pissed. It didn’t matter what I had to say in my defense, she was not hearing it. That woman walked right out of that place with T. Dude didn’t even flinch when El came o

“He was my brother too, you know?” Joshua continues in a whisper. Sweat breaks out on my forehead despite the cold, so I remove my jacket. “And no matter what he did, he was still my brother.” I swallow that painful truth with a deep sigh. “When I was in boarding school, he would always call. Even when they never did.” They. Our parents. I never called either. “One morning, he’s there being his usual arrogant self. The next morning, he’s not there. How in God’s name was I expected to deal with that?” His words wash over me. Long buried guilt and resentment rouses. Shame sinks its claws into my skin as I stare at his hunched frame. At his feet. At the tiles that are wet with his tears. My eyes are too dry, I can’t bring myself to share in his sorrow. The guilt has drowned other emotions. I can only watch him.  “I was trying to find closure and somehow I found myself in your room.” We all lived together in Salford. It was a rule then, one we followed because we ha