UMA

The door slammed and the alarm went onto alert. Terry swore under his breath and lurched over to hit the override. He banged it hard. But it was too late. The strident wail had woken Maia.

"Settle her."

I looked at him for a few moments, about to say something but I thought better of it and went to pick her up. It was comforting to have her in my arms, clinging to my neck, making me feel like I was someone who was worthwhile loving. Burying my head against her, I clung on to her as much as she did to me. What had I done? How must he feel to witness that? Was there any way I could even begin to explain?

She was asking for a drink so I carried her through to the kitchen and got her some apple juice. Terry was sitting in the lounge, his head in his hands, a bottle of Scotch on the table before him. I slipped onto the couch near him and laid Maia down on a pile of floor cushions. I know I should have returned her to her bed but she was a sort of buffer for me. I'm not sure if I admitted to myself that I was scared - but I was.

"Terry?"

"What? You gonna tell me how sorry you are?"

I took a breath. "No. I wasn't going to say that..."

"Why not? So you're not sorry?"

He was spoiling for a fight whichever way I went. Terry can be so incredibly self-destructive when his own feelings are hurt.

Can't we all?

"I'm beyond sorry. Sorry is a word that is easy to say. What I did was unforgivable. I'm not going to even try and rationalise it..." I stood up and went to walk to the bedroom.

"Don't you want to know where I've been tonight?" It was an odd retort but I knew he hadn't said it without it being significant.

I looked back at him. "No. Where've you been?"

He took something out of the pocket of his jacket and flung it across at me. "I went shopping. Now go and use it."

It was a pregnancy kit. I took a deep breath. "If it's positive..?"

"We deal with it."

"And if it's negative..."

"Likewise..."

Something in his final tone made my blood run cold. What did he mean?

"Aren't you going to come and help like the last time?" I muttered sarcastically as I flounced out. I heard him light up a cigarette. He never smokes near Maia.

"I think you can sort it out yourself this time, baby...you seem to know how to piss on a man when he's down well enough by now...that little tab should be no problem for you..."

I deserved it. What can you do or say when you know full well you are in the wrong? That everything he says is justified? That you might as well have taken every bit of love he ever gave you and thrown it in his face? What could I possibly do or say to make this right now? Instead I just let my shoulders droop and went into the bathroom trying not to compare this to the time before when we had done this in such desperate longing and then had our dream realised with a little blue line. How do you go from moments like that in your life to moments like this? Very easily, if one of the partnership behaves like a slut.

There was a feeling of finality about this and I pushed the gnawing sense from me. So I just closed the door and did the test, sitting on the edge of the bath waiting for the result.

Then there was a knock at the door and he stepped in looking sombre. "I should be here. It isn't your fault. I'm sorry I made you feel like it was..."

God, I love him so much. What was he apologising for? He sat on the floor at my feet as the seconds ticked by, placing his palm on my knee as if to complete some circle. I checked the time, looked at the test and saw the answer.

"Well?"

"Negative," I exhaled long and hard. Terry winced, whether in relief or disappointment it was hard to tell. I'm not sure how I felt. Empty, I guess. I didn't want to be pregnant but I didn't want not to be full of him either. Maybe I wondered whether we would ever get back to where we had been again. A baby might not be the same thing but it would be something, just in case...

"Negative..." he repeated the word. "Might have been simpler had you done this in the first place, hey? Or do you prefer melodrama? Gets the boys all worked up, hey? Makes you the centre of attention? Missing out on that these days, huh?"

I choked down a retort. This time I was not going to make it worse. I was the guilty party and he had the right to a few cheap shots no matter how much they hurt. He wouldn't be doing it if it didn't hurt him too.

But he wanted me to fight him back. He was in that mood and my silence was depriving him of the anger he wanted to unleash. As I stood up to leave, he caught my arm and pulled me against him. "Why? Why him? Why now? Can't you see he was using you..."

"He was not!" I would not have him abuse Lachlan's reputation even if mine was going to be trodden on. "He's very sentimental and he was upset. I led him on...don't blame him...he didn't know what he was doing..."

"Yeah? That so? Thought you read men better than that? He came here for a feed and a fuck. Maybe he wouldn't have put it like that in his own head, but baby, that was his game. And you, of course, obliged. Or would have done if I hadn't walked in...There's a word for women like you...you really want me to spell it out, love?"

I rested my head against the cool black tiles of the wall and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath as his words cut into me. But he was right. I had never been anything but a slut. "I know, Terry...you don't need to tell me what I am. I already know..."

"Say you're sorry...at least say that..."

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't even begin to get anywhere close to how I feel. I feel cheap and dirty and ashamed and not fit to be the mother of that little girl. Not fit to be with you. Sorry? I am so far past sorry..."

"I was with Heather tonight. I took her to dinner. I took her shopping. I left because things were getting out of hand..." He suddenly spoke in a soft low voice. I could hardly comprehend what he was saying.

"What? You have stood here and made me feel like a complete whore while all the time you were up to much the same? You went running to Heather when we quarrelled. Told her everything, I suppose? While she smoothed your fevered brow and told you what a man you were? And you come back here and find we were...this wasn't about us, was it? It was about you and your guilt. Makes you feel better when you can throw it on someone else?"

"I didn't have to tell you..."

"So that wipes the slate clean?"

"Well, honesty is a little bit more hopeful than fucking lying about it...what do you want me to do, slit my veins?" he bit back. My conciliatory mood was evaporating. Now I wanted to turn my guilt onto him. So he still had a hard on for her, did he? And he wondered what was motivating me and Lachlan? Who's the hypocrite now?

"Just cut me slack, hey? Or is it okay for you to go cruising for old girlfriends when you need to recall your glory days? Might know where you'd end up. You never change, do you? Why ruin a perfectly good fantasy relationship with anything so mundane as real fucking life? Which, of course, you have never been able to hack...!"

"You were the one opening your legs, darlin'. I walked out. You rolled onto your back...I think there's a slight matter of degree of culpability here...don't turn this on me!"

And then the little miracle happened. The door was open and we heard a chuckle. Maia was standing there. Standing. Unaided. As if she had walked up to it. Both of us stopped in our manic shouting and stared. And she just held out her arms, laughed and stumbled towards us. "Dad! Mama!"

Terry dropped to a crouch and held out his arms; she fell into them and he swept her up, kissing her as she screamed with laughter at her achievement. We stood together and he put his arm round me. "What the fuck we arguing about? Okay, so we've both behaved badly. But she doesn't seem to mind what dicks she has for parents. You know, I've ignored her today. Been too wrapped up in all the rest of the shit. You and me, Henry and that fuck wit of a girl he got pregnant, Penny and her usual missile attack on me, then the pregnancy and Heather and Lachlan and the mess they're in and now...and she walked in here to get my attention...what does that tell you?"

I smiled with tears wetting my cheeks. "Tells me that maybe you ought to ignore her more often...but what do you mean, Henry and his girlfriend...what's been going on..?"

He sighed and leaned over to kiss Maia's head. "I'll tell you later. Let's play with her a while. Let's forget about today. And remember what really counts...you, Maia, me...s'all we've got, love...better or worse, hey?"

Sometime life seems very complicated. Some times it is very simple. And often the difference between the two is no more than a little shaft of light. 

And Maia is like a great big sun....how can we fail?

She took a while to settle but eventually she dropped off and we decided to go to bed ourselves and sleep on it all; we were both frazzled by the day and not in a good frame of mind to really talk this thing through. We went to bed in a subdued mood; this was not the night for romantic interludes or passion. Imagine how we both felt? He had found me in flagrante with Lachlan a few hours before and then had later admitted that he had been perilously close to the same mistake with Heather. Neither of us made any advances to the other. I pecked him on the cheek and rolled over. He grunted goodnight.

Then we lay wide awake side by side pretending to be asleep.

"This is nuts..." I said after about half an hour.

"I'm asleep. I can't hear you," Terry replied and then chuckled. I groaned and rolled over on my hip, leaning on one elbow.

"Want to talk?"

"Nope."

"Well, you can't sleep either. We can't just lie here!" I replied.

"You got a better idea? Anything else you want to do?" he answered smartly. 

"Very funny. What's on your mind?"

"I said no talking."

"Aw... go on...I won't get angry."

"That's a relief...seeing as you have so much to get angry about..."

"Don't start nagging on about that again! I've had a traumatic day."

"Me too. Harry's girlfriend's pregnant..."

"WHAT? I didn't even know he had a girlfriend..."

Terry looked across. "Harry always has a girlfriend. We just rarely get to meet them. Today I met the young lady he has impregnated. I was not impressed..."

"Why? She not up to your rigorous standards?" I asked with a giggle.

"No, I'm not up to hers. She regards me as single-handedly responsible for most of the armed conflict in the world today. I had a long lecture. I was duly chastened."

"I'll bet. What are they going to do about it?"

Terry sighed deeply. "I have offered to pay for the abortion she wants but only on the understanding that a) Harry does not leave Uni to live in some squat with her, b) they tell their parents - or at least Harry tells Penny and c) that - and I hope you don't mind offering - you would have a word with her and put to her the other side of termination and why she should not go into this with her eyes closed..."

I heaved a sigh of my own. "I can see where you were coming from but I am not sure I am the one to advise anyone. But if you want me to I'll have a word. How will Penny take it?"

He moaned. "She already found out. Blames me entirely. So what's new?"

I counted to ten. "That bitch! I would so like to..."

"Oh no. Never. Not in this life. I would prefer you are never in the same room as each other...keep your opinions to yourself. She will kill me if you give her a hard time..."

"Are you a man or a mouse?" I laughed but rested a hand on his chest. "I'll help anyway I can. You know I will. Did it really upset you?" I murmured, snuggling close for the first time that evening.

"Yeah. They're so bloody young. I saw him about to make all the mistakes I did - with an even more unsuitable woman. She wants him to drop out of Cambridge, for God's sake! And then I thought of the termination. Say Penny and I had gone down that road with him? I just felt so confused about where I really stood. Then you tell me you might be pregnant and you know what? I want to go bury my head in the sand. I want it all to go away. My reaction was a bloody disgrace. That not enough to keep me awake at night?"

I cuddled him close. "I had no idea...oh, baby...."

"Yeah...baby.....Jesus...that was a narrow escape. We are going to have to get this contraceptive thing sorted out. Uma...go on the pill, injections, something, anything... - but quick."

"I know. I promise. I am sorry..." I kissed his nipple, running my tongue around it, ruffling up the hair. I felt his body react to my intimate touch. At least one thing was for sure. From both his words and actions he was presuming we would be making love sometime soon, even if not tonight.

For a while we lay close, idly stroking each other and lost in thought. "It is confusing," I suddenly offered. "The last thing I want in this world is another baby....and yet..."

There was a silence before Terry replied. "...and yet...?"

I went on. "..you know...I had to face the fact that I might be pregnant....and that we might be about to make another life. As perfect as Maia. I can't exactly say that I felt upset at that. Imagine doing that miracle again..."

"That is not quite the point..."

"Oh but it is!" I argued. "What is this difference? A few years ago we were desperate to have a child. We would have done anything - even to the extent of having sex in a panoramic lift! How can Maia be so much loved and her sister...or brother ..not be just as loved..."

"I would love any child of ours..." he insisted.

"Exactly! We might not have planned a child, but if it happened, we would find the positive, wouldn't we? We would consider ourselves blessed to have made another life..."

"I was kind of thinking about a boy..." Terry said all at once. "Tristan...he's such a little boy already. So different from Maia. One year old and you know he's a little boy and she's a little girl..." He said with a gentle smile.

"I was thinking just the same! What would our son be like? I feel a bit sad now. I was beginning to accept the idea and you know, it wasn't as bad as I had imagined. I am just selfish. I don't want the work. Or to have anything in the way of my time with you....I was thinking of names..."

"Names?" He asked incredulously.

"Boys' names..." I answered.

"You were lying here thinking of boys' names? Uma, you're not pregnant..."

"Yeah, but I could have been. And I might be one day. So I was just thinking about a little tiny baby boy with your eyes and a little willie.."

"If he were my son he wouldn't be little..."

"He might take after me and I don't have one," I answered. He grunted in annoyance.

"So I was wondering what you thought about this. I mean, you chose Maia's name, so this one would be my go, wouldn't it?"

He sighed deeply and muttered, "This should be good..."

"Well, I know how much you like sport. And if you had a son you would want to take him to matches. You're an Arsenal fan and then I thought how cute would this be? Your first son is called Henry. You are called Terry (which is okay but a bit working class, don't you think?) So if we called our baby boy Thierry then it would be kind of hip. A sort of classy version of Terry with French sophistication and a witty allusion to Henry..."

"You want me to call my son after Thierry Henry, the footballer? Are you totally crazy? I suppose I should be grateful you didn't go for Wayne Rooney Thorne or something after your obsession with United and the Boy Wonder..."

"Call my son Wayne? Are you totally mental? That sounds like some kid from the wrong end of town..."

He just started laughing. "No. No son of mine is going to be called a pussy name like Thierry. I prefer simple manly no-nonsense names..."

"Like Henry?"

"Not my choice. They christened him while I was on active. Anyway what's wrong with Henry?"

"It's a bit of an old man's name," I argued.

"You reckon? I rather fancy Frank for a name...like old blue eyes..."

I sat up in shock. "Frank! You cannot be serious. You are definitely winding me up now. Frank?" 

"Okay. Let's give it some European sophistication. How about Franco...?"

"My son will not be called Frank in any form. Try again sunshine."

"Erik."

"Eric? Eric Thorne? That is just awful!"

"Eric as in Eric Cantona, the love of your life? The greatest footballer of the modern generation?"

"It does not go with Thorne!"

"And Thierry Thorne sounds good?"

I gave that some thought. "Hmmm...now you mention it...good job I'm not pregnant, hey? Gives me time to think about it..."

"Nine months not long enough?" He retorted smartly. I climbed out of bed.

"I need to pee. Frank? I still cannot imagine any sane person would want to call his son Frank..." I heard him chuckle and hit the pillow a few times before rolling over and settling to sleep. So he had been thinking about it too, had he? Poor thing. Harry and Penny giving him grief and then I act out and Lachlan lets himself down and then he himself nearly makes a pass at Heather...what a night he'd had! Then I drop my bombshell on him...God love him....I sat on the loo thinking and talking to myself-  and idly picked up the discarded pregnancy test...

LACHLAN

I took my time getting home.  It was already dark by the time I got off the tube.  Our neighborhood isn't really one you want to be walking round in after dark and yet there was some part of me that almost wished for trouble.  After my near adulterous brush with Uma, and my even nearer 'almost go' at Terry when he copped us together, I would have welcomed the release of throwing a few wild punches.  With the guilt laying so heavily on me, I wouldn't have minded taking a few either.  I deserved it.  I was ashamed of the way I'd behaved. 

It was painful to admit, but maybe there was some truth in what Thorne said about my tendency to get too close to other men's wives.  Or maybe I just had the world's worst timing.  I don't mean getting copped - though that was pretty bloody bad - I mean that brief moment when two hearts are open and vulnerable and what should have been safe and easy suddenly takes a different direction than you ever imagined or intended.  I seem to have made a habit of that over the years.  It had happened with Lil and Betsy and Uma... and it seemed Heather and I had nothing but bad timing with each other these days.

What had happened at Uma's left me on edge and the closer I got to home, the lower I felt.  The food I'd so eagerly shoveled down my gullet earlier now sat like a cold bitter lump in my stomach.  I suppose my guilt accounted for that and yet part of me was still angry too.  The skinful of wine I'd had tonight only added fuel to that fire, as did that sickening sense of desperation that had been clawing at my insides for months.  A man can only stretch himself so thin before he snaps.  I was ready to blow.  I was ready to weep. 

I did neither.      

I didn't even go inside.  Instead, I sat on the crumbling steps outside, elbows on my knees with the heels of my hands digging into my eyes.  The cold night air seemed to sharpen my every thought.  I felt like such a hypocrite for berating Uma for her doubts when I was struggling all the while with my own.  Not that I ever wanted to go back to that old world where everyone pretended love was free and without jealousy or consequences... but somehow I'd thought by recognizing that for the farce it was and having the courage to step out into the unknown that we would have earned more for ourselves than this; seeing my woman grow pitifully thin... seeing my own son turn from me... struggling each day just to keep our noses above water. 

It's amusing to me in a macabre sort of way how even after all this time there is still some part of me that expects life to be fair.  You'd think I'd have learned that lesson by now and yet I still bristle and become belligerently indignant when it isn't.  Dogged optimism of a bygone age?  Not likely.  More like sheer bloody-mindedness, but then I've always been a stubborn sort.

It was the cold that finally drive me inside.  It was marginally warmer but just as dark.  The click of the latch echoed loudly as it always does in the emptiness of our stark space.  On a night when I was already dangerously on edge, it seemed like just another cruel reminder of my inability to provide for my family.  Which only increased both my guilt and my anger that I couldn't affect an immediate change.  I'm no stranger to hardship and depravation.... but enduring it myself and seeing it affect those I love simply because they chose to follow me are two entirely different things, especially when I wasn't feeling all that worthy of that sort of devotion. 

I couldn't get what I'd done with Uma out of my head.  Christ, I could still smell her perfume and remember the comfort of her warm soft body wrapped around mine.  Worse still was the fact that it had felt good.  Even the memory of it felt good.  Which only made the guilt more intense....

Blast!

Stumbling over Tris' stroller, I righted myself and then grimaced as my eyes became accustomed to the gloom.  Heather was sitting on the couch in the dark, watching me with wide eyes.  To be honest, part of me warmed at the idea that she'd waited up even though my heart tripped wildly in my chest that she'd somehow suss what I'd been about this evening.  On the other hand, the less optimistic part of me had been hoping to find her fast asleep with Tristan in our pitiful excuse for a bedroom.  At least then I'd have had a bit of time to collect myself.  To decide what I was going to say... if anything.

She didn't make it easy for me.  That's one of the things about her that has always pricked at me.  She will forgive me of damn near anything after one of our rows, even when I'm totally at fault, but she can be so bloody stubborn.  It's always me who has to break the ice first.  Even when she's the one totally at fault.  It did not help my mood.  I took a deep breath and blew out softly, trying to get a handle on my surging emotions.

"So how was your day, then?"  I winced at my delivery and at the stupidity of the mundane comment.  When did we get to this place where an ocean would fit between what we felt and what we actually said?

"Okay.  Long.  Good I guess though."  The pinched look on her face eased.  "We went to the park...."  Guilt stabbed at me.  Another opportunity with my family pissed away... but even riled as I was I still felt myself responding the change in her as her whole demeanor softened and warmed with thoughts of our son playing happily in the grass.  A man would have to have a heart of stone not to be moved by that.  "How was your day?"  She looked me up and down, not waiting for my answer.  "You look cold.  Want some tea?"

She didn't wait for my answer before getting up.  Was she trying to make amends here or did she simply wish to have something to busy her hands?  Regardless, I followed her into the dark kitchenette like some pathetic puppy too stupid to know better.  I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to take any notice of her as she reached for the cupboard and then hesitated.  I filled the kettle just so I'd have something to do with my own hands other than stuff them in my pockets while I rocked back and forth on my feet.  She still hadn't gotten out the tea by the time I was finished.

"Speed bump," I muttered moving past her with a ghost of an affectionate smile.  I was grasping for anything to keep the conversation going and it was an old joke between us.  She's always had a habit of stopping in my way to ask me something or to watch me... or just because sometimes her mind is elsewhere and she just isn't thinking.

The sight that met my eyes when I opened the cupboard momentarily stunned me.  It was stocked with more food than we could eat in a month.  I blinked, looking about and taking in the subtle changes.  Butter in the butter dish.  Garlic and peppers on the sill.  A loaf of crusty bread sat on the counter.  Fruit filled a chipped bowl by the sink.  The small icebox was packed to overflowing; meat, veg, milk, eggs....

I blinked a few times, openmouthed.  

Where......?  How.....?  Who...... 

My eyes narrowed and I could feel my jaw clench as the pieces fell into place.  Thorne.  Had to be.  Well, that certainly explained her wide-eyed rabbit look when I came in the door.  And why she was so quick to busy herself with some meaningless task.  It was probably also why she led me in here even though it would be impossible for her to hide this.  She doesn't handle guilt well.  Sometimes I wish she wasn't driven to confess this way; like ripping off a scab in one go.  Get all the pain over with quick.

Well not tonight, sweetheart.     

The water began to boil.  So did my blood.   

The kettle whistled.  Out of habit I jumped to get it before the shrill sound woke Tris.  When I turned, she was standing there, a box of tea clutched tightly in her fingers.  It might as well have been mustard gas as far as I was concerned. 

"Funny.  I don't recall you mentioning shopping today.  I heard: 'We went to the park'," I retorted sourly.

"Lach-"

"Just who exactly did you meet there?"  I suppose it could have been my own guilt driving that question but I still bloody well wanted an answer. 

"Uma and Maia-"  

This was bad.  She was even too guilty to take umbrage at my rude little question.  "And she gave you a couple hundred pounds to-"

"No!  Of course not."

"I didn't think so."  Charity was hard enough to accept... but Thorne's charity?  After I'd found out what a shit he'd been to Uma?  After I'd spent the last few hours vowing to myself to never touch another thing of his ever again?  Fucking bastard!  I'll kill him if I find he's been sniffing round my family.... again. I waved my hand at the food.  "So all this fell from the fucking sky then?" 

"Not exactly."  I didn't say anything.  She'll confess.  She always does, even when honesty is the last thing we need between us.  She fiddled with a tin of biscuits nervously.  "I ran into Terry on the way home..."

"Oh you did, did you?"  Rage flashed through me and I flung the box of tea away with a grunt.  I reached in to take that flaming tin of biscuits from her... and that's when I smelled it on her.  Lavender.  We haven't had the money for extras like that in months.  "What else did he buy you, love?"

She went pale with guilt.  

I saw red.  

HEATHER

"It's not what you think!"      

"Like hell it isn't!"  

He went completely mental, throwing the tin of biscuits against the wall in temper and dragging things out from the cupboard with great sweeps of his hands, cursing and kicking out at things that struck the ground near his feet.  It was one of the few times I'd ever been afraid of him.                 

I pulled on his arm, trying to get him to stop.  "Lach, please...."  

"You're really coming down in the world, aren't you?  Last time it was pearls.  This time you whored yourself for a trolley of groceries."  He spit the words at me, eyes flashing wildly with rage. 

Tears welled up in my eyes at his cruelty.  His temper has always been bad but his words cut me deeply.    

"How can you say that after all this time!"  But then I already knew the answer to that.  He's never really gotten over the fact that Terry and I had been lovers.  Sometimes I think I haven't either.  Old insecurities run deep.... and he will never be able to forget that time I was intimate with Terry while carrying Tristan- regardless of the fact he did the exact same thing with Uma while she was carrying Maia.

He rounded on me.       

"Your fucking hero is not so heroic, you know?"  Kicking a box of crackers out of his way he moved closer, jaw clenched hard as he appraised me up and down cruelly.  "I just hope he didn't knock you up..." I gasped but he didn't even slow down.  "But don't worry.  He'll pay to get rid of it.  His answer to everything.  Money!  Even with his own bloody wife...."       

It took a few moments for that to register through the pain of his attack.  My insides felt shredded.  It struck an unpleasant cord, especially with what Terry had told me of his response to the news of his son's pregnant girlfriend.  And then I realised Lach had stopped railing and was looking away with a healthy measure of his own guilt.  What had he admitted in his tirade that had caused that?

Paying to get rid of it? 

"How would you know about that?"  I suddenly felt a sick sense of dread.  "Where have you been tonight?"  The stricken look on his face told me everything I needed to know.  "Ran to Uma, did you?"  And he had the gall to accuse me?  I looked closer.  There was a smear of pale lipstick on his collar.  I grabbed his shirt and sniffed.  I recognized the scent clinging to it.  Uma had been wearing it in the park today.  "Well, that's a bit pricier than lavender lotion.  But then she can afford to pay for her own kicks, hey?"

His eyes flashed dangerously at me but I was too furious to stop.

"How did she reel you in this time?  Fancy dinner and a bottle of wine?  Since when have you been a gigolo?"  His fists clenched.  He didn't like being called a whore any more than I did, but I still wasn't done.  "Let me guess... poor little Uma boo-hoo'ed and you came running, is that it?"

"Don't you talk about her that way!"

"You are so fucking naïve!  She's been playing that card from the very beginning.  Once upon a time, hey?  Give up the fairytale!  She even had Max wrapped around her little finger.  Cort jumping to her tune.  Bud like a lap dog.  And Jack...."

"Shut up!  Just shut your fucking mouth!"

Now I'd gone and done it.  Brought up the past.  God, how did we ever think that old world was anything but a farce?  It was destined for failure from the beginning with so many entangled lives and the jealousy and bitterness that followed.  That old double standard.  Biology.  Human nature.  True love.  Whatever you want to call it.  It had broken us all.

"You men are so gullible!  Uma's a user.  She has to be the tragedy queen.  Center of attention.  For God's sake... she ruined Max's life.  And Terry's!"  Lachlan's eyes flashed in warning at the mention of Terry's name but I just couldn't stop myself.  The dam had burst and months of pent up frustration poured out in a jumble.  "You gonna let her do a number on you now?  She always has a plan, pulling strings from the background until you dance to her tune and worse- she makes you think it's all your idea!"       

"Bitch."  

He didn't even shout it.  He said it flat and cold.  As if he truly believed it instead of it being something he'd just flung at me in anger.  I swiped at my tears.    

"It's better than being a slut... cos that's what she is!"  His face reddened even further at that and then I knew for sure exactly what he was guilty of.  "You did fuck her tonight, didn't you!  Oh my God!  I didn't really think you would sink so low."

"Not as low as you, you mean?"  He fired that one straight back.  "All I get are his seconds.  Again."

He was trembling with rage. 

I was too.  

Flashover.

We attacked each other.  Violence and passion fused with rage and despair and the basic carnal need to reestablish possession.  It was ugly and raw.  He twisted my hands behind my back and kissed me hard.  I scratched him and bit his tongue, bucking under him as we hit the couch.  Straining and panting, we struggled together wildly.  I moaned when he groped my breast too hard.  He hissed in return when I shoved up under him, grinding his erection painfully between us.  

"God... Fuuckkk....." 

We tore at each other's clothes, biting and mouthing each other wetly.  He pinned me.  I bit him.  Hard.    

"Fuckin' cunt....."

"Bastard....I hate you!...."

The more I struggled the harder he held me.  It hurt.  And it aroused us both.  There was a frighteningly desperate edge to what was happening between us, as if we could both drown our pain in carnal debasement.  My milk let down and he groaned when he felt the wet drops trickling under my top.  Rubbing it roughly into my skin, he flipped us with a low growl, arching under me to push his head back into the cushion as the big hands he had at my hips forced up my skirt and ruthlessly ground the tender whirls of my flesh against his groin and zipper.  Ignoring the pain, I ground down harder, wanting him to hurt as I did.  We both gasped.

I don't think either of us could remember the last time we'd let go like this.  I don't think either of us really wanted to.  It wasn't pretty or tender or even right.  We only wanted to take from each other, to wound.  To hide. 

Neither of us noticed the thump against the bedroom door.  It's old and it sticks.  Tristan pushed through it in a fit of frustrated temper, sniffing and red-faced with tears.  We sprang apart, instantly ashamed.  How could we have let him see us like that?  Worse, how could we have forgotten him?  How much had he heard as we screamed at each other?  He was sweaty and bright-eyed.  How long had he been trying to get out?  My heart broke for him.  Hastily pushing at my rumpled clothing, I tried to go to him but he backed away and instinctively moved towards Lach, arms raised.

"Dada.... Dadada...."  

He flung himself in his father's arms and hid his little face in Lach's neck.  Lachlan was startled at first.  It had been months since Tristan had wanted anything to do with his father.  Part of me was glad he'd gone to Lachlan and yet part of me was deeply wounded by his rejection.  I wondered if it was because I'd done most of the yelling tonight or because he'd been uncomfortable being held by Terry earlier and by the presence of another man in our home.  I winced, recalling how I'd yelled at Terry too.  Poor Tris.  He'd had a pretty rough day. 

I guess we all had.

LACHLAN

Despite the circumstances, it felt so good to have my son's warm little body in my arms.  "Shhh, mate.... S'alright....we're right here.  Sorry we didn't hear you.... " 

"Dada..."  It was a pitiful little wail that trailed off to a sniff.  

"I don't like being shut in either.  You're apples now though, mate.  And you sure gave that old door the what for, didn't you?"  I patted his back soothingly, hearing my own inane chatter and knowing it was to calm him as much as myself.  Thank God Heather had been on top when he came barreling out of that room.  If I'd been on top....  Jesus.  I'm not sure my heart could have taken him thinking I was hurting his mum. 

I think he was more frustrated that he couldn't get out rather than anything to do with our yelling scaring him, but I knew he could sense the unease.  The spider-monkey grip he had on my neck told me so.             

Heather joined us on the couch.  I rocked him... and we all came down.  Tristan's tears dried up just as ours were starting.  I knew we needed to talk but I couldn't help being selfish a little longer.  My son hadn't fallen asleep in my arms in a dog's age and I just couldn't seem to let him go.  The night had grown cold and the shadows blacker by the time I was finally ready to put him down. 

I stayed in our room a while just watching him sleep, his little soft toy tucked up under his chubby arm.  I knew she was out there waiting for me but I needed a little more time.  For him... and for myself too.  My lip stung where she'd bitten me.  My shirt was missing some buttons.  I could feel every wheal and scratch and knew she could too.  My heart hurt the worst of all.

When I came out, we held each other on that tired old couch a long time, whispering tearful apologies and confessions and the things we should have said instead of tearing at each other like two mad dogs.  And there was surprise and relief on both our parts when we each admitted that nothing had really happened.... although it could have done. 

Very easily.  

Certainly enough still lingered from that dangerous past life.  And none of us, not even Mr. Savvy Negotiator had ever sat down and dealt with it head on.  You can't really leave the past behind.  We all tried our bloody hardest to embrace this new life as if we were all trying to convince ourselves that walking away from the old one was all it took.  Bloody fools, the lot of us.

We thought it was the end of the road... and it was just the beginning.  That's life for you.  Has you bumping into surprise when you least expect it.  And now, all of us who thought we were finally free must now learn to separate friendship from lust.  Men and women can be friends... but sex is not a part of it and we must never put ourselves in that position again.  I reckon where we're at now is the difference between knowing and doing.               

But we all have our memories.  And desires.  Deep friendships too.  If it wasn't so tragic, it would almost be amusing that it was here that we've really had to work harder to get away from that insidious pull.  Like some damned lure.  A web woven of old ties that bind rather than any bloody magic.  Babies don't change anything.  They only make everything more complicated.  I suppose it's not really all that surprising in the end.  We all thought we'd made the final leap... left it all behind, you might say. 

You know, once upon a time I used to be quite good at that.  But running never solves anything.  No matter how far or how fast or how many worlds you escape into or out of, you still take your problems with you.  It's only when you stop playing the victim and face them that you're ever truly free.   

And there's the real lesson, hey?    

HEATHER

We held each other a long time.  I cradled him to my breast and stroked his hair, luxuriating in the feel of his strong heavy body over mine.  He nuzzled my throat, whispering to me that he'd get us out of this bind soon but that he needed for me to let him be the man, however stupid it might sound.  It is what he is.... he'd had to swallow the rest and if I took that from him then he wouldn't have anything left.

Don't take that away from me, Blue.

His words still echoed in my heart.  We'd both made a mess of things before... and now, we were both making a fresh start.    

The whispering turned to kissing and kissing turned to touching and before either of us really knew what was happening we were making a soft, tender love.  The old saggy couch nearly swallowed us.  It was like making love in a cocoon.  Quite a contrast to our earlier frenzy when we were set on attacking each other.  This time it was tender and affectionate, full of slow deep kisses and gentle expressions of love and need. 

He suckled my breasts and nourished me with his gentle lovemaking, eyes wide open as we breathed the same breath and shared the same heart.  One flesh.  That's what it's really all about anyway, isn't it?  That exquisitely fragile intimacy you can't find anywhere but in the arms of the one you love.  Pleasure and passion and even the volatility of release seems secondary to that beautiful comfort you give each other as you sink into each other's bodies and give each other ease and acceptance and love.

He moved confidently between my spread legs, pressing me down, rocking slowly until we were both sweaty and slick with our efforts.  His body trembled.  His penis swelled.  I could feel his heartbeat throbbing deep inside me, like I'd once felt the movement of our son.  We both made it last as long as we could... and in the end the only thing that marked our climax was his soft grunt and my breathy gasp.  His body poured into mine, filling me to overflowing. 

The wet heat became slicker and the musky scent more pronounced as we cradled each other close.  Our gentle rocking never stopped.  He softened then hardened once more.  We made love again without parting from the moment he'd first come inside.  It was glorious.  And messy.  And simply, breathtakingly divine.

I love looking at him afterwards all languid and sex-soaked, lazing back... rumpled and bare-chested, his hair flopping over his sweaty brow with wisps of wiry golden hair peeking out from his half-buttoned jeans.  The only time I think he looks more manly is when he's sleeping with Tristan on his chest.  I think he liked the way I looked afterwards too, wrapped in his shirt, face flushed and glowing and my legs not quite steady yet as we made our way into the kitchen to clean up the mess.  There was food everywhere. 

He didn't say anything but he did help pick up and put back the groceries which I think was as close as his pride would ever come to accepting Terry's charity.  He put the kettle back on and brewed up while I finished putting away the last of it.  There was a tin of Mary Lou's under the table and a bag of Oreos behind the garbage can.  I felt a wet trickle of stale semen as I bent to retrieve them.  Lachlan just grinned lazily and passed me a napkin with a smug knowing look. 

He poured.  I set out a plate of cookies.  Most were a bit worse for the wear after their hurried trip against the wall.  Lachlan pulled me onto his knee at the table and we took turns dunking broken cookies into the same glass of milk.

He turned one over in his fingers thoughtfully.

"Terry eats Oreos?" he mumbled absently, mouth full of cookie.

I snuggled in closer and put my head on his shoulder.  "No.  But you do."  I felt his arm creep around me as the truth sunk in.  I might have been with Terry earlier, but it was Lachlan who was always first in my thoughts.  And my heart.      

It was the perfect ending to an imperfect day.  And I like those sorts of endings.  Nothing ever really fades to black after good sex.  

The story always goes on. 

And so would we.  

Meanwhile, back at the Thorne residence....

UMA

"OH."

"MY."

"GOD."

"TERRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"