The Scars Of Life (The Working Girls Book 4)

by K. L. Humphreys

  His fingers drum a bit harder on the table, "I have no answer for you, when I got that phone call from Mary-Anne it was as though my world had come crashing down, and I had no idea what to do. My dad had died, and I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

  Hurt laces his tone. "I'm sorry about your dad Richie, I really am but that's no excuse for the way you behaved."

  "I'm an arsehole Natalie, I really did fuck up. I should have woken you up and told you." He sounds sincere, and he's apologised. What else I can ask from him?

  "Why didn't you come back? You could have come back." That's what hurt; I understood that he had to go. I just didn't understand why he wouldn't come back to me.

  "I knew from the phone call with Mary-Anne that it would be awhile before I could leave. She said that my mum was a mess and she was, God she was so bad, but she's finally starting to live again. But my mum wasn't the reason I had to stay. Colm was. He drove the car that killed my dad."

  I gasp, holy shit.

  The waitress comes with my tea and Richie's coffee, and he waits until she walks away before continuing his story.

  "Yeah, see Dad took Mum out for dinner for their anniversary. When they got back Mary-Anne called asking if they'd seen Colm. He’d snuck out of her house. So, Dad went looking for him and found him. The arsehole took Dad's car out for a ride while he was drunk."

  Oh my God! I can see where this is going, and I can't believe it. I thought he died by a heart attack or something, but this?

  "I'm not really sure what happened, but not only did Colm run over my dad and kill him, Colm hit a wall in the car and was paralysed." Silent tears stream over his face.

  "He's paralysed?" I whisper.

  "He was, yes,” he murmurs.

  Why does he keep saying was?

  "Two months after my dad died, Colm committed suicide. He couldn't live with the guilt." His tears fall faster, and he swipes them away furiously. "I wanted to come back but when I heard that Colm was the reason my dad died, I knew I couldn't, not right away. I had to choose between the woman I love and my family. I'm sorry."

  My throat has a lump in it, and my eyes fill with unshed tears. He looks devastated. "I understand." And I do. If it was my mum and family then I'd be the same.

  He gives me a sad smile. "Of course you do. You’re one of a kind."

  "Richie, we need to talk." My voice is calm, while my hands are anything but, I'm picking at a tissue.

  "What is it? What's wrong?" He reaches over and holds my hand, his thumb caressing my skin.

  "When you left…" I swallow past that lump that's threatening to return. "A couple of weeks later I found out I was pregnant."

  His eyes widen, and his mouth forms an 'O' shape. "Pregnant?"

  I bite my lip. "Yes, I tried to call you to tell you, but you changed your number. Pen had Charles try to find you, but he didn't." I'm not sure if he tried hard enough.

  "You had a baby?" he whispers in disbelief.

  I nod. "I did, we had a baby."

  "I'm a dad?"

  "Yes, you're a dad, and your son would love to see you." My tears are free falling now.

  "Son?" He coughs as though there's something stuck in his throat. "How old is he?"

  "He's four months old." I smile as I pull my phone out of my pocket and show him my lock screen where there's a picture of our smiling boy.

  He lifts a shaky hand to his mouth. "Oh, God. He's beautiful." He can't take his eyes off the picture.

  "He really is."

  His eyes lift to mine. "What's his name?"

  I bite my lip, unsure of how this is going to go. Taking a deep breath, "Malachy Charles Murphy.”

  His beautiful face breaks out into that gorgeous smile. "Can I meet him?"

  Chapter 25

  Richie

  The bell in this stuffed toy jingles as my hands are shaking so hard. I don't think I've ever been so nervous in my entire life. I've fucked up more times than I can count with Nat. God, I love that woman more than life itself and yet she's the one who I’ve hurt the most. I honestly believe that I have loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. She's gorgeous and smart, but the thing I love most about her is her ability to see the best in everyone. I'm praying that I've not blown my chance with her. Yes, losing Jess hurt but leaving Nat behind, twice now, has killed me. There's no one like her, and I'll never feel the same about anyone else. If Nat won't give me another chance, then I'm done. There's no other woman out there for me.

  It’s like an eternity until the door opens, and I'm greeted by the beauty that is Natalie. She's in a tight pair of black leggings that cling to her body, accentuating each and every curve. Her hot pink vest top is just as tight; it shows everything, so much so that I can tell that she's not wearing a bra. Her jet black hair is tied into a knot at the top of her head, not a shred of makeup on her face, she’s a stunning vision standing in front of me.

  "Richie." Her voice is soft, and willowy. "You're here." It's as if she didn't believe I would have come. I deserve that; I've done nothing for her to suggest otherwise.

  "Yeah." I squeeze a little tighter on the stuffed toy that I’m clutching. She glances down at my hands and sees the teddy. I had no idea what to get Malachy, I've never been around a baby before. The woman in the shop told me that I couldn't go wrong with a teddy bear. "I hope it's okay, I bought him a present. It's not much." I don't have the money right now to buy him anything else, but as soon as I do, I'm going to spoil him rotten.

  She gives me a smile, but her eyes don't light up as they used to do when she was around me. Hurt shines brightly instead. "He'll love it, come on in. He's asleep at the moment, but he should be waking up soon." She holds the door open wider to let me in, standing as close to it as possible. It doesn't stop me reaching out, my fingers grazing against her skin. She shivers beneath my touch. I hide my smile, she's still affected by me, and that's all I needed. I still have a chance to make things right.

  "Do that again Richie, and I'll break your damn fingers," she snaps as she closes the door.

  "Do what?"

  She sighs as she pushes past me. "Don’t be obtuse. Stop being an arse, okay?"

  I hold my hands up in surrender. I'm not going to push her too far today, but I'm not giving up.

  I glance around her hallway, pictures of her and Malachy are scattered along the wall. I smile when I come across one of them both. Malachy looks red, like he's crying and Nat, God, I've never seen Nat with so much admiration in her eyes.

  "That was the day he was born." She tells me, her voice so full of love.

  "I'm sorry that I wasn't there." I'm gutted that I missed the birth of my son, that I wasn't there to support Natalie when she needed me the most. So many regrets and they all centre around her.

  "Yeah, well that was your fault," she replies in a bitchy tone, and I bite my tongue. She doesn't need to hear my sorry arse excuses. "You missed out on what would have been the best day of your life because you what? Were a prick who couldn't be honest? Had you had spoken to me while you were gone, I would have told you about my pregnancy and then you could have been present."

  I stare at her, I can't tear my eyes off her, but where my heart is filled with admiration and love, her eyes are filled with impatience and anger. This is my Natalie, the woman who sets my heart racing and makes me feel like a teenager again. I had expected this anger, needed it in fact. The calmness she had the day before is gone. It really worried me yesterday, I thought that feisty woman I fell in love with was gone. But she's not, she's still the same woman she was only a hundred times better than I remember.

  A shrill cry breaks through our stare off. Natalie walks toward the sound, leaving me standing here uneasy. I'm not sure where to go or what to do, I watch as she makes her way upstairs to get our son. It still amazes me to even think that I have a son. Every second that ticks by is like a lifetime, but when she appears on the top step with my baby boy in her arms, I melt. There's no other way to describe it.


  My heart pounds as she proceeds down the stairs. All I keep thinking of is what's going to happen if she drops him. Hell, what if I drop him? I can't hold him. I'm thirty-one and I'm scared to hold a damn baby.

  "Follow me into the living room," she says softly, smiling down at our boy.

  I dutifully walk behind her, my eyes glued to the beautiful boy in her arms. He has thick dark hair, taking after his mam. But those eyes, damn, so identical to the ones I see in the mirror every day. As I step into the sitting room, I see that it’s quite big. There’s a black three-seater sofa along one wall, and a black two-seater standing at a right angle to that. A black armchair completes the set. The walls are magnolia and again scattered with pictures. I see some of her and Penelope, some with Stef, and most of them contain Malachy. The carpet is a greyish colour and there’s a small mat on it that must be Malachy’s as it’s sky blue and has mirrors and rattles attached to it.

  "Take a seat, get comfortable." She says, not looking at me, her eyes focused on Malachy as she bounces him in her arms. I sit on the sofa and blink away my confusion. What do I do now? Are we going to talk? "Here, just support him." I quickly discard the teddy bear as she kisses Malachy and passes him to me.

  "What? No, you can't. Nat..." I'm freaking out, I have no idea how to hold him. She doesn't listen, instead, moving my arms so that I've one hand on Malachy's bum and another on his head. "Nat, what if I drop him?"

  "Then I'll punch you," she replies, and my eyes go wide with my shock. "I'm joking, look at him Richie, he's content just being held by you."

  Looking down at him, I realise Nat's right, he's staring at me, his bright green eyes wide with wonder, but he's got a big smile on his chubby face. "Hello." My voice cracks, God, he's amazing, just looking at him takes my breath away. How on earth did I get so lucky?

  He coos, and I'm enthralled. I guess what they say is true, you never truly know love until you have a child. "I'm your daddy," I tell him, and he coos again.

  Natalie sniffs and it cuts through the trance I'm in. Glancing over, I see her quickly wipe away her tears. "I'll be back in a minute, just need to get him a bottle," she says hurriedly as she exits the room leaving Malachy and me alone.

  "Your mam's one special lady, we're both lucky to have her in our lives."

  He smiles brightly.

  "Yeah, little man, that's right." I can't keep the smile off my face, I never thought this day would be possible. "I love your mam, I'm going to spend my life making it up to her, up to you both. I messed up, I hurt her more than I ever thought possible." I have no idea why I'm spilling my guts to my four-month-old, maybe because he'll listen without judgement or maybe because he deserves to hear it.

  "The very first day I met your mam, she blew me away. She was soaking wet, but still the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Your mam is so smart, not only books but street-wise. You'll learn a lot from her, she'll teach you everything you need to know, and she'll love you like no other." Just as she did for me, and I threw it away.

  "Your granny's going to love you, and both she and your auntie are going to spoil you." He just coos at me. My heart has never been so full of love before and yet, staring at him, it's bursting with it.

  "You're named after your granda. He would have loved you. He'd have brought you out on the tractor and drove around the farm. He'd have shown you how to bale the hay and how to foot the turf. He'd have shown you everything he showed me, and he'd have enjoyed it. Your granda was the best man, he was the best dad in the world, and if I'm a fifth of a dad to you as he was to me, I'll be over the moon." I lift him and bring his chubby cheeks to my lips, pressing a soft kiss to them as a few tears silently drop from my eyes.

  "Look at you two getting along," Natalie says as she comes into the room. I don't look at her. I hold Malachy in one arm and swipe away at my tears not wanting her to see them. Not wanting the pity from her, I've fucked up with her, I want her to get her anger out, and it’s the only way we'll be able to move forward.

  "It's his bottle time," she tells me as she reaches for him, I don't hesitate in handing him over. She doesn't want me to feed him and that's fine, it's going to take a while for both of us to be comfortable with me being around him. Yes, I love him, there's no questioning that, but I've never done this before and I'd hate to hurt him because I've done something wrong.

  I watch her as she feeds him, and she doesn’t seem to mind. He's a hungry little guy, drinking without taking a breath. "Is he always like that?" I ask with a smile.

  "Yes, he's always been hungry. When he was first born, I tried to breastfeed but he was so hungry and I wasn't producing enough. He'd cry so hard. I ended up giving him a bottle to help." She sounds sad, and I'm wondering why.

  "Did it help?"

  A sad smile forms as she glances at him. "Yeah, but then when I went to breastfeed he didn't want it because he had to work for the milk, whereas with the bottle it was just there."

  "You miss it." That's why she's sad, she wanted to breastfeed him.

  "Yes, I miss the closeness it brought. He's an independent guy. Most of the time he doesn't want to be cuddled. I also hate the judgement that some mum's have when they see you giving a four-month-old a bottle instead of your tit." She rolls her eyes, and I can imagine her telling those people to go fuck themselves.

  "You can't please everyone. You did what was right for our son, I don't give a shit what anyone says. Is he happy?"

  She frowns. "Yes."

  "Healthy?"

  Her frown deepens. "Yes."

  "Are you happy and healthy?"

  She narrows her eyes at me. "Yes."

  "Then no one else has the right to have an opinion. It’s not their lives so they can piss off."

  She laughs. "Yeah, but still no mum likes to be judged."

  "I don't suppose they do, but Nat, what you've done, how you've done it alone is incredible."

  "I haven't been alone. I've had my family around me," she fires back, scoring a direct hit; everyone else was here for her except me. "Pen was there when I gave birth, she held my hand through it all. From the moment I found out I was pregnant, to trying to call you and finding out that you had changed your number. To the scans and birth. Without her love and support I’m not sure if we’d be here today." Her voice is hard, and I understand why.

  "If I had known I would have been here, Nat."

  She scoffs. "You changed your number, Richie. You didn't care what happened to me."

  I grit my teeth. "That's not true, Nat. I have always loved you. You were always on my mind."

  She rolls her eyes. "Sure." She lifts Malachy onto her shoulder and pats his back. "I'm not arguing with you. What’s done is done. You have shown to me that you can't be trusted."

  "Nat," I whisper, hurt slashing through my body at her words.

  She looks at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears, "Twice I slept with you, twice and both times you were gone by morning."

  "I'm so sorry. If I could change what happened I would. I never intended on hurting you Nat. I never wanted this.” A knot of desperation grows in my stomach. “I honestly thought when you gave me another chance that was it, my life had changed. I was finally living my life, the way I wanted it with the woman I love. And it was ripped away with a phone call."

  Malachy lets out a loud belch.

  "Good boy," Natalie praises him then kisses his cheek. "Funny thing Richie, I would have waited for you to come back. Had you had the balls to tell me what was happening, had you said to me Nat, things are difficult at the moment. I need to go back to Ireland, I'm not sure how long I'll be there, but I'm coming back." She shakes her head. "I would have waited for you. I would have held your hand through all the pain, been your support system when you lost two men you loved. But you never gave me that opportunity. You just thought of yourself and that hurts. You were supposed to love me and yet you treated me like I meant nothing."

  "You meant more to me than anything. Not telling you was my way of
trying to deal with everything, for you not to see me as weak. Not to see me at my lowest, my family at its lowest." I’m desperate to get her to understand a little.

  She gets to her feet and places Malachy on his stomach on the playmat. "Do you think I’m that shallow? That I wouldn’t have cared that they—that you were hurting? Grieving? You really don't think that low of me?"

  Malachy groans as he tries to reach for the rattle that's attached to the mat. Nat grabs the teddy that I bought and hands it to him.

  "I don't think lowly of you at all. I think you're amazing and that hasn't changed, will never change just as my love for you will never change."

  She shakes her head. "You're here to get to know Malachy. What was between us is gone. Focus on your son."

  I nod. "Malachy is my priority." But that doesn't mean that I won't pursue her. I'm not letting her get away, I've fucked up, but I believe that she loves me just as I love her and maybe there's a way for us to work.

  She smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Good, he needs you."

  "I need him too. I'm going to spend my life showing him how much he means to me." I look her deep in the eyes, my words are also for her. I'll show her for the rest of her life just how much I adore and love her. Just how special she truly is.

  A couple of hours later, and it's time for me to go. I can't bring myself to get up, to hand him over. It's almost six; Natalie looks tired, and since she hasn't eaten since I've been here, she must be starved. Glancing down at my son, I find he's fast asleep tucked in my arms. I hate that I have to leave, that I have to spend the night away from him. Last night was bad, but tonight? It's going to break me. I have no one to blame but myself. Nat was right. I messed up, I should have kept in contact with her, telling her what was happening and then I would have known about the pregnancy, I should have been here for her, for support. To see Malachy being born. Instead, I made her hate me, thinking that her hating me will be the best thing for the both of us. That it would give her the power she needed to move on.