Bait

The way she loved me.

And then I remember her tears as she ran for the last time. The pain in my gut as I held myself back and watched her leave.

I allow myself a moment when I get to the top, doubling over to catch my breath as I stare at the land below. The view is spectacular up here. I’d stay to admire the way the world falls away if I wasn’t so damn afraid of staying still.

I’ll never outrun my mistakes, but I’ll keep trying.

The run down is always an anti-climax. My heart is always in my throat as I head around the back of the house and let myself in through the porch. I’ve made my daily routine close enough to clockwork to cruise through on autopilot. I’d be happily on autopilot right now if not for the text message burning silently in my pocket.

They’re willing to negotiate.

It’s such a shame I’m not.

I only allow myself five minutes in the shower. I towel off in a rush as I pull a fresh shirt from the closet.

Cameron’s footsteps are on the landing before I’ve fastened my tie. He’s in spaceman PJs this morning – his favourites.

His sleepy eyes meet mine as he shunts my bedroom door open. My boy’s hair is a dark tangle straight from bed. He looks so much like his mother it takes my breath. Every morning the same.

“Hey, little guy,” I greet, hoisting him onto my hip as I grab my jacket from the hanger. I check he’s not wet himself before we head downstairs. “Cornflakes?”

He shakes his head as we reach the kitchen.

“Krispies?”

Another head shake.

“Shooting Stars?”

He has Mariana’s dimples when he smiles.

“Alright then, Stars it is.”

He still has his special high chair, even though he’ll be four this coming summer. He still has his favourite blue bowl and spoon, even though he’s big enough for big boy cutlery now.

The speech therapist says he’ll speak in his own time. The psychologist says he’ll stop wetting the bed in his own time too.

Everything in its own time. Always in its own time. Time is the great healer and all that crap.

Time changes nothing, not for me and not for him either seemingly.

I’d give anything to change things for him. I’ll never stop trying, but for now it’s always tiny steps. Such tiny steps.

Every tiny step is enough to keep me going. A smile. A laugh. A new expression.

“Shooting Stars for little Cammy!”

Cam turns his head to smile at my sister as she props herself in the kitchen doorway. I feel her eyes on me as I grab myself a coffee.

“Well?” she asks.

“The answer’s still no, Serena. No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“You’re really going to turn them down? Jeez…”

I hear the hiss of her breath as her words trail off into nothing. I know she’s fighting back expletives to spare Cameron’s ears.

“This isn’t healthy,” she tells me, and the cutting edge of her voice bristles above her self-restraint. “Not for any of us. You have to move on, Leo. We all have to move on.”

All. I know exactly who she’s referring to, but my considerations are in this room only. Me and Cam. Fuck everyone else.

Fuck him.

My voice is low and calm, at odds with the twist in my gut. “Their offer was an insult.”

“They said they’d negotiate…”

“And I said no,” I tell her again, even though I haven’t. Not yet.

“You have to speak to Jake, Leo. He’s got to have a say in this too.”

“My name is Phoenix,” I tell her for the thousandth time. “And he lost his say a long time ago.”

I flick on the worktop TV and turn the channel to Cameron’s favourite as he digs into his breakfast. If he’s bothered by our exchange he doesn’t show it. I almost wish he would.

Serena joins me at the counter, and when she speaks again her mouth is close enough to my ear that the little guy won’t hear her.

“Jake is still my brother. Yours too. He’s still blood. And you’re still Leo, Leo.”

My eyes burn hers, so close. So similar. All three of us, so fucking similar.

“He’s no brother of mine, and I’m not still Leo,” I hiss. “He’s not Jake anymore either, he makes that clear enough.”

She shrugs. “I give up. You’re both as bad as each other.”

I wish she really would give it up, but Hell will freeze over first. Another family resemblance.

I down my coffee, then plant a kiss on my boy’s head before I grab my wallet and keys. I ruffle his messy hair on my way out, even though he barely looks away from the cartoons.

“I’ll be back later, champ. Be good for Serena.”

She pulls her dressing gown tight as she watches me up the path to the truck. I see her shake her head before I pull away. Her brows are heavy, like mine, her dark hair piled up in a messy bun so stark against her pale skin. She’s still fighting the obvious, still holding on to hope that Jake and I have long given up on.