by A. E. Murphy
Connected
A. E. Murphy
DEDICATION
To my fiancé who I love dearly,
what took you so long?
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CONTACT
OTHER WORKS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to Rivka Spicer, an amazing person, friend and editor who has had so much patience with me and my terrible grammar. Who also worked on my book whilst ill just so I’d meet the deadline I’d set for myself. I’ll be forever in your debt.
To Ramya, Nikita, Elizabeth, Heather, Innie, and Meleila (Erotica Book Nymphos blog) thank you so much for reading through this and giving me your complete honesty and support. You guys rock, seriously.
Helen, I’m sorry we’ve had little time for each other as of late, I miss you and appreciate all of your help. Please let Tiff get an Xbox.
Thank you Nora, you hold nothing back and call me on my mistakes without fear. I love this about you. Don’t ever change.
To my kids, Alyssia-may and Aydin, the two most beautiful people in the world to me. Thank you for being such well-behaved and amazing children whilst Mummy works. I hope you never read this, because that would be awkward.
CHAPTER ONE
Dear Guinevere,
I’ll be sending Jeanine to collect Dillan for me on Thursday the eighth. Please have him ready with enough supplies for the weekend. I’ll send him back the following Monday. If this date is an issue for you, please contact Jeanine; I know you both still talk.
Regards
Nathan.
A torrent of emotions flit through me as I grip the perfectly written, letter sized note in my hands, ready to screw it into a ball and throw it at something.
How dare he?
After everything he put me through, after the way he just left us without a second glance, suddenly he wants to see Dillan? He’s so infuriating.
Does he honestly think I’ll just let him take Dillan without speaking to me first? Without explaining anything first? He’s crazy.
I immediately type out a text to Jeanine, feeling a little better when I send it.
Guinevere: Please tell Nathan I respectfully decline his request to take Dillan for four nights. If he wants to see his nephew he can come and collect him personally. This is nothing against you; I just don’t feel comfortable using you as a go between, especially when it concerns my son’s welfare.
My anger dissipates for a few seconds when a thought comes to mind that shocks me. I instantly push it away, cursing myself for thinking something so vile about a man who, even though he’s been mean as of late, has always been there for Dillan and I, even when it was clear that he didn’t want to be.
Nathan will never be his Grandfather. Not all abuse victims end up as abusers themselves. I can’t believe I even entertained the idea.
That’s not the issue here; the issue is that I’m finally getting on with my life. I’ve got an amazing job at a bakery around the corner called ‘Valentine’s’ where I’m working for a lovely elderly lady called Valentine. Best cakes in town. My mum and I are finally in a good place and I’m enjoying being a mum myself. Dillan is happy and is thriving as much as a baby can. I love him so much.
Nathan let go of me! Not the other way around. He doesn’t get to decide anything. It’s not my fault that I saw what I saw. I didn’t deserve his treatment then and I definitely don’t deserve it now.
Pain slices through my chest when I think back to the DVDs I discovered, showing me the vile things that will forever plague my mind.
The sound of my phone snaps me from the horrendous images that I wish I could forget. I pick it up with a trembling hand and sigh with relief at her response. I was worried she’d find my text offensive.
Jeanine: I told him this but he wouldn’t listen. I’ll pass the message along.
I wonder how he’ll react. I can already imagine his lips thinning to a white line as his hands fist by his sides.
Good. I hope he gets angry.
Guinevere: Thank you :)
Is it wrong that I still miss him?
My mum comes upstairs and pokes her head into the room. “Everything okay?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“Was it from Nathan?” It’s obvious because I never get mail, especially not handwritten mail.
I nod and sigh. “Yeah.” He hates me.
“We’ll talk about it soon; I’m going to be late for work.” she ducks back out of my room and moments later I hear the shower running.
Dillan starts to stir and I take a moment to feed him and change him. Whenever I’m tending to him, my thoughts stay on him. I know I should stop using him as a distraction and face my jumbled thoughts, but I don’t want to.
My mum suggested I keep a journal but I’d fill the book in less than a day. I worry too much.
When Dillan is settled on my bed, on his back between my open legs, I read the letter again and curse Nathan in my mind. I don’t fully understand why he refuses to acknowledge me. I get that I saw something I shouldn’t have, but does he not want to see me because of embarrassment or shame?
If so, doesn’t he realize he has nothing to be ashamed of? Nothing that happened to him was his fault.
My phone alerts me to another text.
Jeanine: He says to stop being ridiculous, he wants to see his nephew. (His words, not mine. I’m with you on this.)
Guinevere: Is he kidding? Please tell me he’s kidding. Tell him, from me, to go and bleep himself. If he wants to see Dillan he can come to me personally. Otherwise he’s not having him. Tell him it’s that way or no way.
Dillan gurgles and I smile, “Yep, all of this fuss is because so many people love you.” Even though I’m shocked that Nathan got in touch at all, I’m also relieved that he still wants to see Dillan. They had a strong bond. Nathan really stepped up and acted like a Daddy to Dillan. I don’t want to stop their contact but, after the way we parted, I need to know that Nathan is mentally stable enough to look after him.
I feel guilty for feeling this way but it’s a rational thought I suppose. Nobody can blame me for wanting to protect my son, even if it is from family.
Especially considering what happened with Nathan, I trust Nathan, truly I do, but I need to be sure. His family does not have the best track record and I can’t risk Dillan suffering the same fate.
Nobody knows what transpired back at Nathan’s, not even Sasha. I just tell them we had a very bad argument. They all know I’m withholding from them, but it’s not my business to tell. Besides, I wouldn’t know where to begin.
Jeanine: He’s agreed and will pick him up on the eighth. I’m glad that’s sorted. How are you?
I should ask her about Nathan but I don’t want her to be stuck in the middle. It’s not fair on her, considering she has to work with him. As much as I’m tempted, I don’t w
ant to make this awkward for her so I tell her my news instead.
Guinevere: I got the job!! So I’m great. Dillan is trying to eat my knee and my mum is a lot better than I expected.
Jeanine: Oh my darling, I’m so happy for you. Maybe this move was the best thing for you after all.
Falling back onto my pillow, I pick up Dillan and cuddle him to my chest. His little head bobs up and down, a trail of drool dribbling from his lip to the curve of my breast. Nice. “Gross little monkey!” I giggle, causing him to smile again.
He looks so much like Caleb when he smiles, but it doesn’t break my heart; it warms it and fills my mind with beautiful memories.
My mum leaves without more than a goodbye; she’s really late. I wave to her using Dillan’s baby fist before closing the door and sitting down in the living room. After placing him in his bouncer I slump on the couch and let out a long and tired sigh. I can’t wait until Sasha arrives. Maybe she’ll let me sleep for a while.
Doubtful.
******
“He just puked on me, which would be okay if it was normal baby milk out of a carton, but it’s not. It’s breast milk, from your boobies obviously, which is really grossing me out!” This is Tommy, who has decided to tag along with Sasha.
“Stop being such an idiot,” Sasha laughs and begins wiping at the small spot of drool and dribble on Tommy’s black polo shirt with a bib.
I smile at their close proximity. I’ve never noticed before just how good they both look together. I don’t think Caleb did either, or at least he never mentioned it.
Neither of them have been able to hold a partner down for long and now I’m wondering if all of these dates they go on are nothing more than a way to get at each other’s jealous sides. Nah, I’m reading into things to distract myself from my own mess of a life.
“Nathan got in touch today,” I chew on the inside of my cheek as I assess their reactions. They look as shocked as I felt at the time of receiving the letter. “He wants to take Dillan for a few days on the eighth.”
“A few days?” Sasha questions and then shrugs a little. “He probably misses him.” Well duh. “Reckon he’ll speak to you too?”
I hope so. “He’ll have to if he wants to take Dillan.”
“In other news,” Tommy announces, noticing my discomfort over speaking about Nathan. “I’m graduating early.”
“What?” I breathe, smiling broadly. “Oh my god, Tommy that’s amazing!” I rush to him and hug his head, mainly so I don’t crush Dillan between us.
“I start an internship at a firm in Doncaster in a few weeks.”
Wow. “Are you moving there? It’s a long commute.”
“It’s only a two hour drive. I’ll be home most weekends.” Realising I’m still hugging him, I release his head and slap him when he pouts at being separated from my boobs. “But they’re so big and bouncy.”
“They might leak on you.” Sasha chips in, making us both giggle when he cringes.
“Take the baby. I need to piss.” Tommy hands Dillan to Sasha before exiting the room.
“I need to get him settled.” I hold out my hands and she reluctantly passes him to me.
My friends leave not too long after I settle Dillan and I’m starting to wonder if they actually come to see me or him. Not that I’m complaining. It’s good to see them, whatever the reason.
Sleep comes quickly, but then I have had a busy day.
******
Valentine is a character. She doesn’t have any rules. As long as I make shit she can sell (her words, not mine) then she’s happy. Obviously she has to have certain customer favourites up front, but mostly she tries to do something different every day.
It’s fun and it helps me to stop worrying about Dillan every two seconds.
Her counter staff seem to be nice women; they know how to work a till and clean up after the customers and mostly they keep to themselves, which I’m grateful for. It might sound awful but I’m not looking to make friends. I just need to focus on making money and dealing with my life right now. Distractions aren’t something I can afford.
“They’re loving your cookies,” Elle, one of the two women who work in the front, smiles, showing slightly crooked teeth as she brings me an empty tray. My face reflects my joy. This is great news. “I kind of ate two though.”
“No problem, I’ll make some more.” Taking the tray from her arms, I place it by the sink and begin prepping my ingredients. I think I’m really going to like it here.
“You’re doing great. I think you may be a better baker than me,” Valentine chuckles and flicks at me with the tea towel.
“I doubt that, but thank you,” I respond kindly and look down at my flour covered hands. Yep. I’m definitely going to like it here.
CHAPTER TWO
“He’s just his uncle.” My mum says calmly. “You don’t have to let him take Dillan.”
But I feel like I kind of do. “He’s been like a father to him.” My voice is soft and quiet as I admit the words I should feel guilty about but don’t. “He loves Dillan a lot. I don’t want him to lose that.” Because Nathan is as broken, if not more so, than me, and Dillan is my anchor. Maybe he can be Nathan’s too.
“It’s your choice.” She grasps my hand and gives it a gentle, yet reassuring squeeze. “But if you feel that the time away from Dillan is too long for you, tell him he can have him until tomorrow night. Don’t force yourself into doing something you don’t want to do. Dillan is only eleven weeks old.”
“I haven’t expressed and frozen enough breast milk for more than two days anyway,” I sigh. I genuinely tried, but failed. My exhaustion has known no bounds recently, what with my new job and such. “He’ll be here in a minute.”
My mum nods and grabs her bag from the side, “I’ll be back later.” She kisses my forehead on her way past and gives me another squeeze, this time with both arms around my shoulders. “Good luck.”
I’m going to need it.
I pace the kitchen, nervously twisting my fingers together. He’ll be here soon.
What am I going to say to him? Should I hug him?
“You’re dead to me.”
I shudder. His words echo through my brain and I suddenly feel nauseous.
I fluff up my black hair with my fingers and stare at myself in the mirror for a moment. Tired grey eyes stare back at me. Only a hint of light green eye shadow rests upon the lids and my lashes are tinted with mascara. I look okay, I think.
Why do I care how I look? It’s not like I’m dressing up for him so he notices me, is it?
There’s a knock at the door. I dart to it, quickly checking my breath by cupping my hand over my mouth, and then I pull it open.
There he is, dark trousers, his hair teasing the collar of his shirt. I can see he’s had a trim, but I’m glad he hasn’t removed too much of the length. Piercing, almost chocolate coloured brown eyes linger on my face. His scent assaults me, always so clean. It’s fresh linen and soap and Nathan.
It takes a lot for me to resist the urge to throw my arms around him, bury my face in his neck and cry for our lost friendship.
“Hi,” I breathe. Christ, I’ve missed him.
He gives me a nod, his lips pressed together in a thin line. I move to the side and motion for him to enter.
“Is he ready?” He clips, glancing around my hallway.
Wow, straight to the point. “He’s in his car seat. He fell asleep.”
“So I’m allowed to take him then,” he seems slightly relieved, his body relaxing a fraction.
Nathan, always so tense. Not that I’m surprised. “Yes, but not until Monday as we planned.”
And there go his muscles; he didn’t stay relaxed for long, “I’ve driven all of this way.”
“I only managed to express enough milk for two days,” I explain, walking into the room where Dillan is sleeping soundly in his car seat.
“I’ve given you plenty of time,” he bites out, his frustration clear.
; I sit on the couch, hating the glare aimed my way as he stands in the doorway. “I know. I’ve just been so tired, I really haven’t had the time.” I’m not a cow that squirts out milk by the gallon.
His frown deepens, “Tired?”
“Yes, I got a job two weeks ago,” I smile excitedly. “I now work at Valentine’s; it’s a bakery around the corner. Best in town.”
“A job?” His eyes darken and his fists open and close as if fighting the urge to clench them.
Eye roll. “I have to pay for my son’s nappies somehow.”
“And the money I’ve been sending you?” He hisses angrily. “And where, may I ask, is Dillan whilst you work?”
Money? “What money?” I glare back at him. “And Dillan stays with my mum whilst I work weekends and goes to nursery when I work in the week.”
“Nursery?” I barely hear him, his voice is that low and dangerous. He closes his eyes for a moment, his calm composure failing. “He’s not even three months old.”
“I can’t not work, Nathan.” I snap, standing again. “What do you even care? I’m dead to you, remember?” I walk over to my son and pick up his bag that sits on the ground beside his seat. Turning, I thrust it into Nathan’s arms, ignoring the guilty look on his face. “Bring him back Saturday afternoon.”
He looks furious. I don’t care. I’m not his business anymore. “Dillan needs his mother around.”
“What Dillan needs is a roof over his head and clothes on his back,” I argue tiredly. “How can I provide them if I don’t work?”
“I’ll send more money.” Nathan places the bag on the arm of the couch and walks towards his nephew.
“What money?” I snap and then let out a long sigh to calm myself. “Forget it. I don’t want nor need your money. My life is none of your business.”