Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(27)

The snow falling on my face and mouth rewinds to the day by the Christmas tree in town, when Liam kissed them away. I shake the snow and memory away, annoyed that I’m spending time dreaming about what can’t be.

A familiar car sits on the driveway, the red paintwork of the flashy Ford sedan collecting snow.

“Daddy’s car!” shouts Ella and pulls her gloved hand from mine.

As she charges along the path toward the front door, I pause, unsure what I’m facing, or how I’ll cope. Anxiety and anger vie for top spot in my mind. The fact he never called to tell me he was coming isn’t a good sign.

Goldie greets me like a returning family member as he always does; and I absent-mindedly pat the jumping dog, fighting the tight-chested feeling accompanying me into the kitchen.

Ella is sitting on Craig’s knee. He looks up as I enter and smiles. No wariness, no apologetic look, the face of someone who just arrived home after work and didn’t kick his partner and daughter onto the street two weeks ago. Craig’s a good-looking guy, and was always aware how many of the girls at school crushed on him. His mother’s Italian. He’s inherited the dark hair and deep brown eyes, and he spends too much time at the gym perfecting his Mediterranean god image.

“Hey, Cer,” he says.

I blink. Hey? Unable to speak in case I start yelling in front of Ella, I unbutton my coat and cross to the fridge.

“Do you want some juice, Ella?”

“Daddy’s come to take us home.”

Gripping the fridge door, I inhale against the mounting anger and pause to compose myself.

“Really?” I pull out a cup and fill it with juice. “Ella, take your coat off and find Aunty Lou.”

Lou was the only one home when I left. Where is she and why the hell did she let him in and not call me?

Ella wraps her arms around Craig’s neck. “I want to stay with Daddy.”

A hint of smugness crosses Craig’s face and I get closer to losing the plot, heart thumping. “I need to talk to Daddy, Ella.”

She pouts. “Don’t make him go.”

“Why don’t you help Mummy by finding your bag? You can put your toys in to take home.” Craig lifts her from his lap and sets her on the floor.

“You won’t leave?” she asks her dad.

“Not without you.” As he says the words, he looks directly at me.

Ignoring his veiled threat, I smile encouragingly at Ella who wrinkles her nose at us. “Okay.”

As Ella leaves, I sit opposite Craig. He’s dressed in the Cardiff football shirt he practically lives in and his expensive jeans, designer trainers to match. He earns a decent wage as a plumber but most of it goes on himself. Every so often, he’ll buy Ella something expensive to help his guilt over never being home. The last present was a trampoline now squashed in the tiny garden of our house in Cardiff, unused in the winter weather. He has no idea how to be a dad, yet she worships him.

“Why are you here?” I ask him.

“To take you home.”

“Just like that?”

Guilt flickers into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Done what? Told your girlfriend and four-year-old daughter to leave your house and never come back? You were pretty clear about that.”

“I made a mistake.” He offers me his half-smile, the one that charmed me into his bed almost six years ago. Six years with him.

“Damn right you did. Your daughter has cried for you every night! Why should we go back with you?”

We both know the answer. “Because you don’t have anywhere else to go, Cer. I miss you.”

I rake my hands through my damp hair, and hold tight, fighting against screaming every insult that comes to mind. The tight feeling of anxiety is in my chest, but the suffocating breathlessness comes from something else. He’s right. I’m trapped.

“Why did you do it?” I say.

“I don’t know. Things were shit at work. We were arguing. I wasn’t happy. All you did was nag me when I got home, and Ella did my head in. I couldn’t cope anymore; I wanted my own space.”

“You have responsibilities, you dickhead!” I say, and then lower my raised voice. “You’re not the teenage boy you pretend to be by going drinking with your mates every night. Just because they don’t have kids yet, doesn’t mean you can pretend you don’t!”

“I’ve never been unfaithful to you,” he says quietly. “I had loads of chances.”

“What? Are you telling me I should be grateful you only kicked me out and haven’t been screwing around?”

“No, I mean I must love you if I said no to other girls. We can work this out.”

“Are you suggesting I move back in and forget what you did? How do I know this won’t happen again? How do you know I even want to come back?”

Craig reaches across the table and wraps his fingers around my clenched hand. “Because you always do what’s best for Ella.”

As I look back into the brown eyes I once loved, the band across my lungs tightens. His secret weapon against me. “You don’t care about Ella.”

“What?” He pulls his brows together as he drops my hand. “She’s my daughter. I love her. I’ll love her until the day I die because she’s mine!”