The Tragic Life

Chapter 7

WARNING: CHAPTERS 32 - 36 OF THIS BOOK CAN ONLY BE READ ON INKITT! LINK IN MY BIO ♥️
...

It's two in the afternoon when I manage to get away from work to pick Emily up. It's Cheryl's day off, so she kindly offered to take her for me, sending me pictures of what they're up to at the boating lake.

Emmy loves the train there.

"Robby saw you hanging around with another guy," Cheryl says, her lips resting against Emily's head.

I don't know how to take her tone.

I tread very lightly. "Yeah, it's my friend, Jamie."

She's keeping her expression cool. "You never mentioned a Jamie before."

I was never close to Lewis' parents. To be honest, we didn't spend enough time with them for me to be able to grow a relationship, because Lewis wasn't very fond of them. I wish it was different now. Things would be a lot less awkward.

Honesty is the best policy. "I met him recently."

"And you're already letting him near Emmy? Is that wise? Who is he?" she replies, the tone in her voice getting higher.

I understand that she's wary. Emily is her everything; the only piece she has left of her son. It can't be a nice feeling to know another guy is in her life instead.

"Jamie is Matt's good friend. I met him when I was visiting Yasmin. He's probably one of the nicest guys I know."

It's true.

There's something incredibly pure about him.

Cheryl rearranges Emily in her arms so she's resting on her hip, letting her granddaughter fiddle and tug on her rich ebony hair that's hanging in a neatly trimmed bob. "I see. Are you hungry? Did you manage to grab a break?"

And like that, it's end of the conversation.

I nod my head on a frown. "I could eat."

Cheryl leads us through her living room to the kitchen that's open plan. "I made extra sandwiches in case."

Their house is filled with pictures of Lewis. Everywhere you turn, he's staring at you with his icy blue eyes. It's haunting, and I find myself averting my gaze every time I catch one.

Cheryl takes a small plate out of the fridge to peel away the clingfilm. "Have you noticed the small rash underneath Emily's armpits?"

I accept the plate. "Yeah, the doctor wasn't sure if it's eczema. I have to bath her in a special bath cream."

Emily is reaching out to me, but Cheryl distracts her with some biscuit husks. "It looks quite inflamed today. I put some antibiotic on it."

I frown. "You shouldn't have done that without asking me, certain creams feed it. I can only use gentle stuff."

She frowns right back at me. "I've raised two boys. I know what I'm doing."

Maybe so, but she doesn't know what she's doing when it comes to my child.

I'm trying to keep my cool. I don't want to fall out with her, but she's out of order. "I don't like you just going ahead and rubbing anything on her body."

"It's a bit of harmless cream, get a grip, Molly," she says, raising her voice at me.

I push my plate away. "No. Don't raise your voice at me. You're not a doctor. What the hell is the antibiotic cream for anyway? You could've made it worse. Emily is my child, and I get the last word when it comes to her."