Cheshire | Sequel to Home

Chapter 13: Truce

I hope you can see, the shape I've been in
While he's touching your skin
This thing upon me, howls like a beast

You flower, you feast

Woman- Harry Styles  

May 2024

Present

Amy's voice faintly reaches the spot where I'm standing, "I'm gonna miss you," she laments, as I carefully place Liv and Archie's bags inside the boot of my wife's car.

To say I'm walking on eggshells around Amy is the understatement of the century. I've always appreciated how caring of Liv she was, how much she protects her, up until I became the subject of her concern. I know all of Liv's friends now know what happened, not that any of them had mentioned a thing in the past half hour I've been here but the way they tip-toe around me, the sympathetic smiles and hateful glares they direct toward me speak for themselves. Being in good terms with your wife's friends is always important but, in Liv's case, her friends are also her family and knowing that I'm not precisely their favorite right now is definitely messing with my head.

So, before reluctantly walking back to the front door of Amy's house, I decided to take as much time as possible arranging the three pieces of luggage my wife and son have. As I approach them, I see how Archie is almost clamped to Liv's leg, wearing a satisfied grin while she slowly runs her fingers through his hair and continues to talk to her friend. The little rascal. He has always been rather attached to her but lately, she can't move without him throwing an over-the-top fit.

When I finally reach her side, I slide my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and clear my throat before announcing, "Everything is set to go."

Amy instinctively folds her arms across her chest in a defensive attitude and Liv turns to look at me nodding, "We'd better get going before it gets dark," she says, almost like apologizing for leaving

After a couple of days of not speaking, last night she announced to me that she wanted to go back home to Cheshire. With me. It's one of those things that just seem too good to be true and I can't help but be wary of it. It's like I'm in full consciousness of my every move, fearing that one misstep might mean the end of this seeming truce.

I pick up Archie as Amy pulls Liv into a tight hug, "You can come back here whenever you want," she whispers into her ear, her tone is low but I know she knows I can hear her. My jaw immediately clenches in irritation. I turn around and walk toward the car as fast as I can to avoid saying anything that might work against me. I'm not going to say goodbye to someone who so blatantly assumes I'm about to mess up again.

"And Mummy?" Archie asks, his head turned and his eyes fixed behind us where Liv is still exchanging whispers with her friend. I'm fuming just imagining what else they could be saying.

"She's coming, mate," I retort a bit too sharply for a two-year-old.

His lower lip pouts, his chin is quivering almost instantly and I'm thankful when I finally see Liv walking toward us, "See, pal? There's Mummy," I coo while I place him on his chair and buckle his seat belt.

Liv climbs into the passenger seat as I close the back door and take the driver seat. She's choosing a movie for Archie to watch - or fall asleep as soon as possible- when I start the engine and slowly drive in reverse to leave that bloody driveway. Amy waves her hand and Liv returns the greeting, encouraging Archie to do the same. I only raise my hand once.

"Bye, Auntie Amy!" my son yells, "bye, Jamie, bye, Noah, bye- bye-" he stutters as he tries to recall Kit's name.

"Uncle Kit," Liv softly reminds him.