“Why didn’t you go?” I can’t keep the panic out of my words, and I know he hears it. He’s silent for a few moments, so I decide to keep going.
“You missed your own band performing because you were worried about me? Why didn’t you just tell me you had a performance, Owen? I want you to go to those things. It’s important you keep living your life!” My voice continues to rise as I speak, I’m unable to keep it down.
“It was more important for me to be here with you,” he shoots back, not giving in.
“You’re with me every day, Owen!” I yell. I’m probably being irrational, but I don’t give a shit. This is how I feel.
“Lottie, why is this bothering you so much? It was one gig. There will be a hundred more in the future, and it’s not like I’ve missed out on this big thing.” He looks me in the eye, and I can imagine the wide-eyed mess he sees staring back at him.
“One gig now, one there, then eventually you won’t even go,” I whisper, my gaze locked on the carpet.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just don’t want you to resent me down the line, the fact that at twenty-nine you basically abandoned your life for some stranger and her daughter. I mean, what the hell are we doing?”
He rears back as if I’ve slapped him. “When have I once made you feel guilty about being with me? When have I once complained about the life you’ve breathed into my lungs? About the joy I get every single time I think about being with you and Rosie?”
He huffs, running a hand through his hair, his relaxed demeanor no more. “Jesus, Lottie. I get you were hesitant initially—no one wants to jump into a relationship when they’re pregnant—but I thought we had moved past that. How are we back here?”
“I’m not taking us back anywhere, Owen. But I think it’s reasonable for me to be concerned that you had a gig tonight with our friends and not only didn’t you go, but you didn’t mention it.” I try not to yell; the last thing either of us needs is to wake Rosie.
He rubs his eyes before nodding slowly. “I don’t want to fight with you, Lottie. I should have mentioned the gig, but to be honest work is kicking my arse and the last thing I felt like doing was socializing. I just wanted to be here with my girls, so I’m sorry. Okay? Can we just move past this and enjoy the rest of our night?”
Despite my mind telling me to remember this, the fight slowly leaves my body. I nod at Owen. “Yeah,” I whisper.
He approaches me with caution, clearly unsure if I’m going to go apeshit at him again. When he senses it’s all clear, he moves forward, pulling me into him. I relax into him, but that little voice inside my head won’t stop whispering one thing.
You’re holding him back.
Over the next few weeks Owen continues to be swamped by work, Rosie and I spending most of our time together or with Evie. I’m finally back in the swing of things with work, contemplating upping to three days a week when Rosie turns one and I’ll be comfortable with her going to daycare.
After the fight between Owen and me, it seemed as if I was finding anything to sabotage our relationship. I just didn’t know how far my mind would have traveled by the end of the week.
After two missed dinners due to work, my mind starts to panic and run with the situation. What if there is someone else? What if he’s finally realized I’m not enough?
I’m sitting on the floor, playing with Rosie when my phone rings. Owen should have been home ten minutes ago, so I’m not surprised to see him calling.
“Hey,” I answer, eyes still on my girl, who’s probably wondering where her favorite guy has gone.
“Hey, babe, I’m not gonna be home for dinner tonight, I’m sorry. Work’s so busy, and I’ve just got a few things I need to get done. I will probably be another two hours.”
My heart sinks, the dreaded feeling that’s been pulling at my skin all week awakening. He doesn’t outright seem like he’s lying, but I can tell something is off from his voice.
“No problem. I’ll go ahead and put Rosie to sleep, then.” My voice is calm, even to my own ears. I’m surprised I’ve managed to keep myself contained. Sure, I don’t know if he’s cheating, but why else is he suddenly working late all of a sudden and taking secret phone calls?
“I’ll see you later, Owen,” I say before we hang up. My fingers are quick to message Stana and Em that I need them to come over.
I’m sick of waiting, not knowing. Sure, it might be deceptive as hell and make me look like a right psycho, but I have to know.
I pick my little girl up from next to me, then take her into her room to change her nappy. Reminders of Owen are everywhere here. Little things he’s made not only me but her. Despite me not wanting to admit it, we’ve created a life together.
“No matter what happens you and I are going to be okay, you know that, right?” I ask her, despite knowing I won’t be getting a response.
After a fresh nappy and a full tummy, I tuck Rosie into her bed, making sure to give her an extra-long hug, my shaken heart needing it.
It’s not ten minutes later when Stana and Em arrive. I tell them my absolutely bonkers plan, and skepticism is written all over their faces.
The plan is for Em to come with me and Stana to watch Rosie. We’re just going to check to see if he’s actually working and if not, well, I guess I’ll just have to go from there.
I look back
