Page 65 of Lick

I have to admit, giving Emma the cold shoulder has been one of the things that’s driven me to drink. Chipping away at her resolve has been eroding parts of myself. I hate the man I’m becoming, knowing I’m skating dangerously close to becoming like the asshole she divorced. But I stand by my decision. Will my life be better with Emma in it? Absofuckinglutely. That was never in doubt. But Emma’s will become infinitely harder, and I swore to myself I’d never let myself become a burden for the woman who has spent too many years carrying more than she ever should have alone.

She looks tired. All this is already putting more stress on her than she needs, and as her body swells with my kid, it’s up to me to force her to back away. Even if it breaks something between us, something I may never be able to fix.

I prepare myself, steeling my emotions so I can pretend I’m unaffected. That’s so far from the fucking truth it’s a joke. I don’t have to wait long before there is a tap at the door. I ignore it, but she knocks again.

With a curse, I thump the bottle down on the desk and wheel myself over to the door before I yank it open. “What?”

The smile that had been plastered across her face slips away. “Hey, I just wanted to⁠—”

“Come see the cripple?” I mock.

Pain lashes across her face now. I hate myself a little more, which I didn’t even think was possible.

“Noah,” she whispers.

I rub my hand over my face, unable to hide my remorse, which isn’t surprising. Treating her like this goes against everything I believe in, tearing apart everything we’ve been working towards. I’ve just taken our story and set fire to the pages.

“I can’t do this right now, Emma.”

“If not now, when? You keep pushing me away, and all I want to do is help.”

“And how can you help? Can you give me back the ability to walk? Can you remove the bullet logged next to my spine? Can you erase the last few months of my life so it’s like they never happened?”

She staggers back a step, her hand going to her bump protectively. “I can see you’re not ready still, and that’s fine. But I won’t give up on us, Lick. I won’t give up on you. You can be a dick to me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’m here and I’m staying.”

“Why? Why the fuck would you want me? I have nothing to offer!” I all but roar at her as she takes a step towards me.

“I love you. You’re all I need.”

I shake my head, feeling my voice catch in my throat. “It’s not enough.”

“It has to be. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“That’s just it, Em. I don’t know anymore.”

29

Emma

It’s getting harder and harder every day to hold on to the fraying edges of my commitment to hold on tight and be strong.

Each day, he wears me down a little more, leading me to dig my heels in harder, trying to drive my point home. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I need him to get it through his thick skull, and soon. I’m trying to hide how much this is hurting me, but I’m not sure I’m as convincing as I hoped I’d be.

I have to be strong. I have to give him time, space. And I have. I’ve given him chance after chance because of what he’s going through. I’ve heard it a dozen times from his brothers and father, and I get it. I do. They’re just looking out for him. But when I’m alone in bed, tears running down my face, body aching from another long night at work, and days filled with animosity I don’t deserve, I wonder if anyone even notices how much I’m struggling. It’s selfish, I know, and that’s why I don’t speak up. My issues are insignificant compared to Lick’s, but knowing that compounds things.

Sometimes I don’t want to be here. Or at the very least, I don’t want to be who I am anymore. I don’t like the person staring back at me in the mirror, and each day it gets harder and harder to look myself in the eye. My only saving grace is that I’m so busy that I pass out each night from sheer exhaustion, instead of tossing and turning as I mourn how everything went so wrong.

I’m moving more slowly today, feeling heavy and sloth-like. I have an appointment for my twenty-week scan, though technically I’m twenty-three weeks. I could find out the gender today if I wanted to, but that doesn’t seem fair without Lick beside me. He’s already told me he has physio and won’t be able to make it. Again, I don’t feel like I can complain. Physio is important if he wants to regain mobility, but I wish he could have carved out an hour or so for his child.

I try not to dwell on it as I shower and get dressed in another loose maxi dress, picked up from a charity shop, with the original tags still on. It’s kind of sad when that find has been the highlight of my month.

I take a deep breath, plait my hair, and grab my bag, throwing everything I might need into it before heading out. I feel like I’m dragging my feet, tiredness wearing me down, even though I’m getting eight hours of sleep for the most part. I had hoped I’d get a burst of energy now that I’m in my second trimester, but apparently, I’m destined to just get all the shitty parts of pregnancy. I’m pretty sure the only pregnancy glow I’ve experienced has been the damp sweat lacing my forehead from over-exertion.

I take the bus to the clinic, happy to find it almost empty. I pick a seat near the front and shove in a pair of broken earbuds so nobody will be tempted to make small talk with me. I lean my head against the window and force myself to keep my eyes open, knowing I’ll doze off otherwise. My hand smooths over my stomach when my baby does a little twirl. I can just about see my stomach ripple, but it’s still mostly unnoticeable to everyone but me. It’s a little secret between me and my kiddo that brings a smile to my face while everything else feels hard and heavy.

As the clinic comes into view, I hit the bell to let the driver know I want to get off and get to my feet as the bus slows and then stops. I thank him and walk to the clinic entrance like I’m wearing lead boots.

I should be excited about today. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I’ll get to see the baby again. The peace of mind that comes with seeing their heartbeat thundering away on that little screen is impossible to put into words. I just wish Lick were here with me. Instead, he’s missing another moment he can’t get back.