Because of Them (Because of Love #2)

Chapter Eight

MICHAEL

“S kinny latte?”

The barista blinks up at me through her fake lashes, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. With a coy smile, she pops her hip as she leans forward over the counter. I don’t miss the way she pushes her chest together with her arms, but I ignore her blatant flirting and keep my eyes on her face.

“Two, please.”

Beside me, Baxter barks a short response to my voice.

Jumping to stand up straight, the barista wipes her hands on her apron and punches the order into her tablet. Belinda, I think her name was. Or Melinda. I love this little coffee stand. They have the best roast and until recently I would come past every other morning on my walk home from the gym.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve had more than a handful of harmless flirts with, um, we’ll go with Linda. We got along well enough, and she is nice to look at. A few winks and suggestive glances, a bit of fun banter. It was all in good fun, and if it got me a free cookie with my coffee I wasn’t going to complain.

And then one day, she wrote her number on my takeaway cup. At first, I’d saved it to my phone with every intention of calling her. Maybe not for anything serious, but at least for a bit of fun. Back when I was meeting girls any way I could, trying to find the one that would change my ways.

The next day, I met Audrey. I deleted every random girl’s number from my phone within a week. Meeting Audrey, and getting to know her, was like a light turning on above my head. I could finally see everything clearly and I knew then she was going to change my life. That was before I freaked out and ruined any chance of being with her I thought I had.

“Are you meeting someone?” Linda asks. She pops her head to the side and pulls her lower lip between her teeth. When I nod, she pushes her lower lip out.

“Oh. You never called me.”

I really want her to just make the coffees. I promised Audrey I’d have one ready for her when she messaged to say she was running late. I’ve never been so excited to hear I’d have to wait for someone. Truth be told, until she sent that text, I was worried she wasn’t going to show at all.

“No, I didn’t,” I admit. I rest my elbows on the counter, keeping my expression flat and leaning towards Linda in a way I hope is friendly but not flirtatious. Truthfully, I don’t know how to separate the two, but I’m doing my best. “I was going to but I—”

“Michael?”

Fuck . I jump back at the sharp tone of Audrey’s voice and Baxter takes a step between my legs. Spinning to face Audrey, I get tangled in the lead, nearly toppling over. My face begins to light up when I twist myself free, but the smile drops as quickly as it was forming when I see Audrey’s scowl.

Okay, so leaning forward too much falls a little too close to the flirtatious line.

Reaching behind me, I drop my cash on the counter.

“Keep the change,” I call over my shoulder, not daring to face Linda again.

Audrey takes a step back, tucking her hands in the pockets of her grey cardigan and wrapping the fabric around herself. Her mouth falls open, but when no words form, she snaps it closed again. Despite the way she shrinks away from me, all I want to do is envelop her in a bear hug. The kind she once told me she loved.

Beneath the wide rips of her faded jeans, her silky skin looks paler than it used to. Her hair is pulled back from her face with a big green clip, but the mousey colour of the top half still contrasts against her grown out blonde highlights. Everything about her—how she holds herself, her thrown together outfit, the way her eyes have sunken into her face—is so unlike the Audrey I first met. She was so put together, so … perfect. But somehow, this is even better. She is Audrey, so comfortably herself in a way I don’t think she understands.

I scratch at my neck, unable to put my awe into words.

Audrey shifts on her feet, bouncing her attention between me, Linda making our coffees, and her feet. “You and …?”

“No. No, not at all.” Baxter rubs his nose against the back of my knee, and I step towards Audrey, pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t shy further away. Although he may just have wanted my attention, Baxter’s nudge encourages me to be completely honest with Audrey. About this and about everything, from now until forever. I’m probably reading too much into my dog’s habits.

“I mean, she gave me her number once. She was asking why I never called. I was just trying to let her down gently because she makes a damn good latte and I’d hate for her to start spitting in them.”

“Why didn’t you call her?”

My insides flip uncomfortably. Telling Audrey why I never called Linda would mean admitting a whole lot of feelings that I don’t think are reciprocated. I’m not sure I’m ready for them to be floating between us. But I chose honesty a moment ago, and I’m going to stand by that. I take another step closer, reaching out to rest my hand on her arm.

“Because I met you the next day.”

Audrey leans into my hand. All the stiffness in her posture melts away as I pull her to me.

“Everything changed when I met you Audrey, and sure I might still be young and stupid, but I don’t want the same things I used to any more.”

“What do you want?” The warmth from her breath slips its way through my top as she speaks directly against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close so she can’t step away when I tell her.

“You.” I admit, whispering the words into her hair.

Her body stiffens the tiniest amount as she squeaks a tiny gasp. I hold her in place, too afraid to look at her, too nervous that if I let go, she will run. She had to know that I felt this way, after all my texts, surely . But maybe there is something about finally hearing it that made the truth sink in.

Standing here, with my arms wrapped around her, I’m glad I never took Brendan’s advice. Glad I kept trying, kept reminding her that I was there, waiting. Waiting for her to be ready, waiting for her to open up about whatever it is that’s going on.

“Two skinny lattes for Mike.”

The barista’s cold voice cuts through the air. Audrey pushes away from me to collect our drinks. Linda’s scowl could melt ice, yet Audrey is nothing but fire and light.

“Thanks so much,” she drawls as she snatches the cups from Linda’s hands. There’s a remnant growl in her throat as she pivots on her heel. Her hips sway as she saunters back to me.

Passing me my coffee, her nose scrunches. She pulls her hand away the second I secure my fingers on the cup. “You told me not to call you that.”

“It doesn’t feel right anymore. Especially not from you.”

Mike is what all the girls called me. All the other women I flirted with, all the dates I went on trying to fill a void I wasn’t fully aware of. Mike is what my father calls me when he coddles me, like the child he still thinks I am. Mike is what the guys from work call me when we fuck around on a site.

But Mike is not what the woman I think I could spend the rest of my life with should call me. She should call me by my name, not my nickname. I want to be the man who makes everything right for her, and that deserves a ‘grown up name’. My mother always said they chose Michael because it worked for an adult, and Mike because it was cute. Audrey makes me want to be that adult my parents imagined.

When Audrey doesn’t respond, I shrug away the silence and gulp down my coffee. The creamy liquid burns its way down my throat, but I’m thankful for the distraction. The burn in my throat is easier to manage than the burn in my chest. That one feels like it will never go away.

Together, Audrey and I stroll down the wide path that heads into the Botanical Gardens. Baxter trots along beside me, occasionally pulling the lead towards birds or other dogs or children. Surrounded by all manner of trees and shrubs, it’s easy to forget how close we are to the centre of town. I imagine that’s what the landscapers had intended when they planted the thick hedges around the perimeter.

The early spring sun is warm this morning, but sparse, fighting to be seen through the clouds. When it does push its way through, long shadows cast through the gardens. Dew still hangs off the leaves and the grass twinkles with moisture. I had imagined us sitting in the sun, soaking up its rays while we reconnected, but the longer we walk the less likely that seems.

Beside me, Audrey attempts to make small talk. Telling me about the house she sold to her ex-husband and asking me about my family. The whole thing is forced, but I fake my way through the pleasantries. Reminding myself that Audrey will open up when she is ready, I try to avoid the unknown elephant that follows us along the gravel track.

Deep in the gardens, our now empty cups hang loose by our sides. The clouds have started to clear and I wonder if we might sit in the sun after all. Audrey falls silent, finally done with the trivial conversation topics.

It’s only when we both stop talking that I noticed her laboured breaths; the way she heaves in every lungful of air like she just ran a marathon.

“Should we sit?” I gesture to a picnic table under a large oak tree. It’s not native, but it must be hundreds of years old, based on its size.

Audrey doesn’t answer, she just turns towards the table and heads over to sit down. When her ass hits the seat, her whole body slumps over until her head is between her legs. She pants faster than Baxter and I inch towards her. Glancing around, I search in vain for a refreshments stand or a drinking fountain.

Baxter pushes between Audrey’s legs. As he stares up at her with his deep brown eyes, his head cocks from side to side as though he is trying to understand what troubles her. When her breathing steadies, he settles his head on her lap. Lucky fucking dog.

I sit next to her, close enough that our thighs are touching, but I resist the way my arm twitches. It wants to be around her, and I want it there too. I reach up gingerly, grazing her far shoulder with the slightest of strokes. She sits up at the touch, leaning her weight into me.

“Oh Michael, what are we going to do?”

Tucking Baxter’s lead under my leg, I reach across my lap with my free hand. Finding Audrey’s hands clinging together, I pry them apart to wrap my fingers around hers.

“What’s wrong?”

Her knee bounces against my leg.

“Remember that time when the condom broke?”

Yeah, I remember. I remember how warm and wet it was inside her. How she’d wrapped her legs around me when we noticed, pulling me back inside her and telling me it was okay. How effortlessly my cock slid between her folds and how downright fucking incredible it felt when I came inside her. My pulse throbs against my throat at the memory, and my cock strains against my shorts. My loose shorts. Fuck. I shift against the hard bench, willing my growing length to calm the fuck down.

“Remember how I said I was on the pill and it didn’t matter? How I told you to come inside me because you make me lose my goddamn mind and we both thought it would be really … I don’t know, good?”

“Audrey, what—?”

“I didn’t lie. I didn’t lie but the next day Maisie got sick. And then I got sick. She was vomiting, I was vomiting. I didn’t think.”

My mind catches up with what she is trying to tell me.

“You’re …?” I can’t say the word. After so long doing everything in my power not to put a baby in a woman’s belly no matter how hot the thought was, the word feels somehow naughty. Like a swear word you really want to say as a kid but you’re too afraid of the consequences.

“I’m pregnant, Michael.”

Birds stop chirping, kids stop playing. The distant rumble of traffic evaporates into the atmosphere. The only thing left in the world is Audrey, and the weight of her words settling on my shoulders. I should have expected it. Should have known that this moment was creeping up on me, no matter how careful I always used to be. But it hits me harder than a freight train.

I pull my hands back, clenching them into fists that rest against my temples. Uncertainty creeps up my spine, leaving goosebumps that spread over my skin. I’m five degrees too cold and ten degrees too hot all at once. The sun glares in my eyes. I turn away from it, unintentionally turning my back on Audrey.

Her saddened whimper rings in my ears as I build the courage to turn my body to face her again. I can’t bring my eyes to meet her own, no matter how much I want to.

“And you … the baby …” I want to ask if she wants to keep it but the air has been sucked from my lungs and it’s impossible to form words.

“Yes,” she reads my mind, answering the question I couldn’t get out. “I’m sorry, but I really want to keep it. I can’t explain it, but it’s like I know I’m supposed to be this baby’s mother. He came to me when I didn’t know I needed him.”

“He? It’s a boy?”

She shakes her head, tenderly taking both my hands in her own. Her tiny fingers link between my calloused digits, thumbs stroking tiny circles on the back of my hands.

“I don’t know, it’s just what comes out. She doesn’t feel right. So, it’s just he for now. Or Bean, although technically he’s the size of a plum now so that doesn’t feel right any more either.”

“Bean.” The nickname rolls off my tongue and even though I know it won’t stick, it melts away some of the tension in my shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” I admit.

“Neither did I.”