Spiralling Skywards: Book Two: Fading (Contradictions Series 2)

by Lesley Jones

  I watched him push his hands down deep into the pocket of his jeans as he stared once again at the floor in front of him. His hair had grown, his usual stubble was a full-on beard, and I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him. I wanted him to hold me. To love me. I knew that if I did reach out for him, he would do both of those things, but I let my anger get the better of me and pushed him away.

  When he looked up at me he was crying.

  “You’ve broken my heart,” I told him. My words coming out on a sob.

  “I know. I fucking know, pretty girl, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t, though. You have no fucking idea.”

  We stared at each other, both of us crying, and for the first time ever, I contemplated what life might be like as a single mother to three small boys. I allowed the word “divorce” to worm its way into my brain and thought about all that it would entail for me and for my children.

  “I’m gonna go and see the babies, and then I’ll be back.”

  “I don’t want you back.”

  “I don’t care. I should’ve been by your side through all of this. I wasn’t, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  ***

  I was allowed out of the hospital after a week, meaning that I was able to attend my grandad’s funeral. The twins were ten days old, but were still in the hospital, so Liam, Carter, Lori, Maggie, and me were all staying with my nan. And because they were likely to remain in hospital for a few weeks yet, we’d decided to move Christmas to Nan’s house, too. The twins were gaining weight and breathing on their own but both of them still had feeding tubes.

  It was hard, so hard. Liam and I were barely speaking. True to his word, he hadn’t left my side, but I was still struggling to forgive him.

  I felt the same way about my brother, too. He’d offered his apologies, but I saw them as nothing but hollow platitudes and had nothing to say to him, either.

  Nan wasn’t doing so great either and had us all worried. She’d once had to bury her only child, and now she had to bury her husband. I couldn’t imagine ever having to do either, and I didn’t want to. It was that thought that helped me make up my mind to try to sort out the mess that was my marriage. I knew I had to let go of some of the hurt, anger, and resentment and allow Liam back in. He was trying his hardest to make amends, but until then, I’d shut him down at every attempt. The anger was eating me up.

  I felt like I was living under a cloud or in a fog. My emotions were a tumultuous mess. I was mourning, I was angry, and I had a cocktail of post-pregnancy hormones pumping through my system. Because I didn’t know how I should be dealing with it all, I simply put a lid on it. I shut it all down and decided to deal with it when I was able to think straight, when I wasn’t so angry, and when I didn’t feel like bursting into tears every thirty seconds.

  Liam passed me a cup of tea as I leant against the doorframe of Nan’s kitchen. I took it, but my eyes didn’t stray from Carter, who was playing outside trying to catch snowflakes in his mouth, as Maggie helped him build a snowman.

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?” I tore my eyes away from the scene outside and looked at him.

  “You’re angry with me.”

  I honestly didn’t know what I was, but I knew if I attempted to talk about it, I would probably cry. I didn’t want to cry. I was sick of crying—it got me nowhere.

  “I understand why. I’m angry with myself. I just want you to know that it won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t promise me that. I don’t want your promises, Liam. They mean nothing to me. They’re empty words just like you’re apologies.”

  He stared at me with tears in his eyes while I stared back and sipped my tea. I should have felt bad for what I had just said, but I didn’t. After what happened while he was gone, something shifted in me. The old me never would have lashed out, but it was all I’d wanted to do the last few days. It wasn’t solely directed at Liam, either. I wanted to lash out at just about everyone who spoke to me.

  “I’ve taken extended leave from work. I’m not going back until February, and how many hours I work then, will depend on how things are with the twina and between us.”

  I shivered and Liam moved behind me, pulling my back into his chest and wrapping his arms around me.

  “I fucked up, but I won’t lose you over this. I can’t.” I wondered then if he’d known that it had crossed my mind. If he had finally realised just how badly he’d hurt me. I didn’t say anything and let him go on. “I’ll fight, I’ll beg, and I’ll plead. I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust.”

  I leant back into my husband’s chest and watched our son play in the snow. I breathed in deep, letting the cold icy December air settle inside me. As I drew that breath, I hoped that it would clear some of the fog that was filling my head and sitting heavy on my chest.

  2012

  We asked Nan to come home and stay with us for a bit, but she refused, insisting she would be fine on her own. I wasn’t so sure, and I hated the thought of leaving her in that big house all alone.

  Maggie and Lori left a week after the babies came home, and for the first time ever, Liam and I were finally alone with our boys, in our own house. We’d had two weeks of absolute bliss, where we had all settled into a routine and finally got to know each other. Carter was the most amazing and attentive big brother, showing no signs of jealousy and only ever wanting to be involved and helpful.

  I should’ve admitted to Liam during that time that I felt overwhelmed. I was terrified of how I would cope when he went back to work and would hide in the shower daily and cry. I should’ve told him, but I was scared. Scared that he would think I was turning into her, my mother. So, I stayed quiet. Things had been going so well between us, we were getting back on track, and I didn’t want to rock the boat.

  I was fine.

  We were fine.

  Everything was fine.

  A few weeks after I’d stopped breastfeeding, Liam came into the twins’ room just after I’d put them down to sleep. They were ten weeks old and since changing them over to formula, were sleeping almost all through the night.

  He slid his arms around me as I stood up from laying Archie in his cot and spoke into my ear, his warm breath causing goose bumps to riot across my skin.

  “I’ve just put Carter to bed and run you a bath. Why don’t you go and get in it.”

  “Are you gonna join me?”

  He kissed the side of my neck, right behind my ear at the same time as he brushed both of his thumbs over my nipples.

  We hadn’t had sex since before the twins were born. I hadn’t felt in the least bit sexy or attractive, and my libido had been zero. This past week, though, I’d felt a little more like myself, and we’d had a little mess around. It’d been nice laying in front of the fire and exploring each other’s bodies without actually having sex. We’d made each other come a couple of times with our mouths and with our fingers, and now I was definitely ready for the real deal.

  “No, I was gonna go downstairs, tidy the mess that Carter left, and order us a takeaway.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  I twisted around to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His eyes searched all over my face. He hadn’t said anything, but I knew he was worried that I was still mad at him. He’d bent over backwards to put things right between us, and I loved him for it.

  “Are we good?” he asked.

  “We’re very good.”

  I thought he was gonna say more, but instead, he smacked me on the arse and pushed me out of the room and towards our bathroom.

  I bathed, I sipped the champagne Liam had left on the side of the bath for me, I listened to Adele, and I totally chilled out for a good forty-five minutes. For the first time in a long time, I felt like me. I felt like I could see, think, and breathe a little easier.

  Once I was out of the bath, I slathered myself in moisturiser, pulled on my fav
ourite Peter Alexander loungewear that Maggie bought me for Christmas, and made my way downstairs.

  “What’s this?”

  Liam had the table set for two and was just lighting candles as I walked into the kitchen.

  As he came around the table, I realised he was wearing nothing but the apron I’d bought him to wear when he barbecued. He hadn’t actually gone as far as cooking tonight, but takeaway was good enough, especially if it was getting dished up by my naked husband.

  “It’s dinner. I’m dessert,” he said with a wink as he pulled my chair out.

  I pinched his bare arse as I moved around him to sit, noting the fresh bottle of champagne he had waiting on ice.

  “Why are you naked?”

  “I thought it’d save time later.”

  He sat down next to me and started to empty our food out of the containers and onto our plates.

  “You’re rather presumptuous aren’t you, Mr Delaney?’

  “Just hopeful, pretty girl. Just hopeful.”

  “Well, top up my glass, and you might just get lucky.”

  “I’ve got you and three beautiful boys, I don’t think I could get any luckier.”

  “You keep laying on the charm like that, and I’ll show ya.”

  He licked his lips as he looked at me, the flickering light from the candle dancing in his blue eyes.

  “Promise?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I love you a lottle, Sarah Delaney.”

  “I love you a lottle more.”

  He grinned at me, saying nothing for a few seconds. “Eat your food. You’re gonna need the energy. I plan on fucking you till the sun comes up.”

  We ate, we talked, and we laughed. We reconnected on a level that I felt we’d been missing since before I was pregnant with the twins, and we were once again us. Just for a few hours between feeds, we were Liam and Sarah, not Mum and Dad, just us. I ate far too much, and I drank way more than far too much.

  We fucked, hard, fast, and dirty on the dining table, and then we made slow delicious love in front of the fire. We shared a large glass of Baileys over ice and then moved things to our bedroom, where we had more sex in a multitude of positions.

  Over the following weeks, things got better between us on a daily basis. Liam still worked long hours but he was making it home for dinner almost every night and was leaving a little later in the mornings so that he could help me out. It seemed as though once we reconnected on an intimate level, everything else just clicked back into place.

  ***

  I stared at my doctor in shock. I had finally gotten around to attending my six week check, which was actually my fourteen week check because I’d simply forgotten to make the appointment amongst all of the chaos surrounding the birth of the twins and the death of my grandfather.

  “I can’t be pregnant, the twins are only fourteen weeks old. I still haven’t even had a period. I was breastfeeding…”

  “Have you had unprotected sex?”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe once or twice.”

  “Well, that’s how it usually happens. After three children, you of all people should know this by now.”

  I wanted to punch him in his smug fucking face and strangle him with his stupid purple bowtie.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew the risks but I honestly thought we wouldn’t get caught out.

  “How far . . . When?”

  “I’ll arrange an ultrasound. Would you like me to see if I can get it done now for you or would you rather come back?”

  “Now, if you could please. Carter’s at school, and it’s easier with just the twins.”

  “Well, it’s all about to get a lot more difficult. Perhaps after this, you may want to think about something more permanent, especially if it’s twins again.”

  I stared at the letter opener on his desk, wondering how badly the red of his blood, would clash with the purple of his tie when I stabbed him in the throat with it.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “We were always planning on having four or five, just not quite this close together.” It wasn’t completely a lie.

  He made the call, and I had the scan. I was four weeks pregnant and due in November. Thankfully, it was just one baby, which was a bonus I supposed.

  I spent the rest of the day in a daze. I didn’t remember collecting Carter from his playgroup, and I didn’t remember unbuckling him from his car seat or carrying the twins into the house.

  I felt like the fog that surrounded me after the twins were born was back, and it was thicker than ever. I was already exhausted to a crippling degree and honestly didn’t know how I was going to survive another pregnancy. I worked on autopilot, making Carter some lunch and feeding the twins when they woke up.

  Four children all under five . . . I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I sat at our dining room table and gave myself a little talking to. Our house was big, we had the room for another baby, but four would be it, no more. I could do this. What other option did I have? But this would, absolutely, most definitely be the last time.

  I could just get my tubes tied when I had the C-section, but why did I have to be responsible for everything? Why should it always be left to me?

  I jumped when my mobile rang and then ignored it when I saw it was Liam. He’d wanted to come to the appointment with me that morning, but they’d just found out they’d won the China contract and, once again, things were flat out at work.

  If I picked up the phone, he would ask how I got on, and then I would have to tell him. I didn’t want to do that over the phone. I wanted him standing in front of me when I broke the news. He’d said repeatedly that he’d like at least one more, but would he be happy that we were getting one so soon? What if he wasn’t? Was termination an option? Would I be able to go through with something like that?

  “Mum, can I have my books and some purples?” Carter’s little face appeared so close to mine that our noses were touching.

  “I promise to be good with them.”

  I pulled him up into my lap and then squeezed him tightly while raining kisses all over his face, making him chuckle.

  “You can have your crayons but no pens.”

  Carter had decided a few weeks ago that he wanted tattoos like David Beckham and the man in the butchers and had proceeded to draw up both of his arms. Pens of any kind were now to be kept permanently out of his reach.

  “You like being a big brother, Carter?”

  “Of course I do. It’s my job.”

  “It’s your job, is it?”

  “Yep.”

  “You reckon we’ve got enough love to go around for one more baby?”

  He frowned as if thinking about it for a while before shaking his head.

  “No.”

  “No? You don’t want just one more brother or sister?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you wasn’t there in the morning, and there was just G Ma and you didn’t come back for a long time and then Daddy found me and we all had to go to Nanna’s and I missed you.” He didn’t take a single breath as he spoke.

  “Well, that wasn’t because of the babies. That was because Pops got sick and went to heaven.”

  “Will someone else go to heaven if there’s more babies?”

  “No, mate, that won’t happen.”

  He wriggled out of my lap but remained standing in front of me, twisting from side to side.

  “Would it be a brother or a sister bubby?”

  “I don’t know yet, what would you like it to be?”

  “A brother. I don’t like the sister ones.”

  “Girls?”

  “Yeah girls. Isabella at school, she’s a girl, and I don’t like her.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Awww, she’s just horrible and calls me Carter the Farter.”

  I struggled not to laugh.

  “Ya know what, mate? I’ll tell you a secret about girls, shall I?”

  He nodded.

 
“Girls are only mean to the boys who they like.”

  He swung from side to side even faster as he thought about it.

  “Nah, I still wanna brother one. Can I have my purples now?”

  I set Carter up at his little play table with his colouring book and crayons, changed the twins’ nappies, and started dinner.

  Despite a decidedly traumatic day, it all turned perfect when Liam’s arms slipped around me from behind.

  “I’ve been calling you. Where’s your phone, pretty girl? You had me worried.”

  I set the pasta I was just rinsing in the sink, turned around, took one look at my husband’s handsome face, and burst into tears.

  “Sarah, what the fuck? What’s wrong? Did the doctor say something?”

  He took both my hands and led me over to the dining table. Before he could ask me again, Carter came running from the playroom.

  “Daddy. I’ve been good and mummy let me have purples and Isabella wants to be my friend really but I still want the new bubby in Mummy’s belly to be a brother not a sister.”

  Liam’s features flicked through different emotions as he tried to make sense of what Carter was telling him.

  “Hey, bud. Come here and give me a love. Then, I want you to go and play with your purples again for a bit while I talk to Mummy.”

  Carter climbed across me to reach Liam as he shouted, “Nosey!” before rubbing his nose against Liam’s.

  Climbing down he pressed his face into my belly and shouted, “Bye, brother, when you come out, you can play with my purples, too.” Then he ran back to the playroom.

  “What the fuck is he on? What did you feed him today?”

  I sucked in my cheeks and tried to hold in my sob, but I just ended up making a squeaking kind of noise.

  “Okay, bub, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”

  I wiped my eyes on the sleeves of my hoodie so that I could see him clearly.

  “Carter just told you.”

  “Carter just came out here and rambled a whole load of things. Which particular thing has made you cry like this?”

  Liam held out his fist and uncurled a finger as he went through his list. “Purples, Isawotsit, brother—” He got halfway through a shrug when it clicked.