I'm Sorry, I love you

Chapter 25

Sighing, I lean back against the cool cabinet. I'm getting fed up of this constant sickness. I was meant to meet mum an hour ago and so far, I haven't even been able to get dressed. I'm thankful her dementia hasn't progressed to a stage where she has few lucid moments, so is able to enjoy the journey into life as a grandmother. I'm not sure how much longer we have left until she can no longer live alone safely. The thought of putting her in a home fills me with guilt, as though I'm turning my back on her.

She had cried with joy when I told her Michael and I were expecting a child around Christmas. We'd spoken for three hours, reminiscing my childhood – the caravan holidays spent with my own grandparents, Sunday boardgame nights with mum and dad, cuddling up to my ragged teddy bear passed down to me by mum. In fact, it is that very teddy that is the purpose of my visit to mum today. The teddy had been bought for my mum when she was a new-born and I desperately want to pass it down to my child when they are born. Mum had spoken to her carer and managed to convince them to retrieve it from the family loft. I can't wait to see soft, tiny fingers wrapped around the arm of Mr Scruff.

I groan as another wave of nausea washes over me. I've tried so many remedies, tips and tricks given to me by other mothers. None have worked so far. In fact, the flat lemonade that our neighbour advised made me feel even worse than I already did. My phone buzzes on the sink. My body aches as I reach up and grab it, opening the message without checking. Oh fuck. Oh shit. No! why the fuck didn't I check first? Andrew's name stares back at me. I've avoided speaking to him since I ran from the police station all those weeks ago. Have avoided having to make excuses. I know he's seen my read receipts. Can see him typing another message. Typing. Online. Typing. My heart is in my throat each time Whatsapp alerts me to the changes. As suddenly as it had started, Whatsapp lets me know that Andrew is no longer online. I breathe loudly, glad to be able to think without the pressure. My phone vibrates again, this time it doesn't stop. He's ringing me now. Shit. What do I do? Part of me wants to throw my phone, bury my head in the sand and pretend Andrew doesn't exist. The other part of me wants to hear his voice. I've missed him. Missed the touch of his skin, the comfort he brings me, how safe and alive I feel when I'm with him.

I answer. Andrew breathes a sigh of relief down the receiver.

"Amelia, baby, what the fuck has been going on?" he sounds worried, desperate.

I bite my lip, unsure what to say.

"I've missed you Andrew," I pick at the skin on my leg as I talk, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

"I hear congratulations are in order." He sounds hurt as he says this. His pain wounds me. I'd intentionally not told him, hadn't wanted the inevitable questions. Now the door is wide open. I need to explain, to tell him the truth no matter how awful it may sound. But I can't do this over the phone. He deserves that much respect.

"Can we meet? I need to see my mum but say 4? I can meet you at my office?"

He's silent for what seems like an eternity, but eventually mutters an agreement. The phone clicks dead. No goodbyes. No I love you's. Just silence. I've truly lost him.