Page 158 of Always Love You More

Now, the space that was once mine, my escape when things at home got rough, has become overrun. All sense of privacy stripped away.

Jace’s crying turns into a high-pitched wail, and with his crib being right beside me, the pillow I have pressed over my head is laughably ineffective.

“Cath,” I groan.

“Can you?” she pleads, her voice strained. “I didn’t get home till three last night.”

I push myself up, not mentioning that I barely slept either. That I haven’t since she moved in. It’s not just Jace who still wakes up during the night sometimes. It’s that Jameson rarely sleeps beside me anymore.

I trust Cathleen enough that I told her how, before she moved in, I’d been sneaking out. How, for months, I was either in Jameson’s bed or he was in mine.

But now, things have become complicated. Cathleen works nights as a dancer, and she wants me here with Jace while she’s gone.

I get it, so I don’t argue.

But with her coming home in the middle of the night or even early morning, I can’t lock the bedroom door. Which means I can’t risk Jameson being inside. So, for the last few months, I’ve spent almost every night alone. And I’ve spent almost every night desperate to fall asleep.

I hover over Jace’s crib, shushing him. He reaches his little arms up, grabbing for me. “Let’s let your mama sleep, huh?” I pull him into my chest, and he nuzzles his head against me.

“Thank you,” Cathleen says, rolling onto her side and pulling the blanket around her. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I take her in, how small she looks, how tired. She’s lost too much weight in the last few months. Something she dismissed when I brought it up.

Weaving my way through the mess of my room, I dodge Cathleen’s discarded heels, Jace’s toys, and an overflowing hamper.

I go through all his morning steps, changing and feeding him, then setting him up in front of the TV so I can get some homework done before my shift at the diner.

My father is asleep on the couch and, like always, he barely stirs. Even when he’s not passed out, he still sleeps on the couch.I can’t remember a time he’s ever slept in his actual bedroom. The room has been completely untouched since our mother left.

It doesn’t go unnoticed that me and Cathleen are cramped in a room with Jace, while we have a perfectly good one sitting empty. But neither of us are brave enough to broach that topic.

Eventually, the house starts to wake up, which is the time I usually try to make myself scarce.

Cathleen takes Jace, and I head upstairs to start getting ready for my shift. “You think you can drive me to work?” I ask when she walks into our room.

She sets Jace down on the bed. “No Jameson?”

“He’s working,” I tell her.

She purses her lips, and I busy myself with my makeup. She wasn’t happy when she found out what Jameson does, especially when she learned who his father was and his connection to Johnny. But she’s come around over time, especially after I told her how much Jameson was there for me after everything happened. And now, in the last few months, she’s seen it for herself.

“Yeah,” she answers. “I can drive you.”

I turn from the mirror, setting down my eyeliner. “Cath?” I start tentatively.

“What?”

“You know how you said you’d make it up to me.”

“You mean, when my brain was barely functioning?”

I snort. “Yeah.”

“Mmhmm,” she hums. “I remember.”

“Since you’re not working tonight. I was hoping you could cover for me. You might not even need to, but—”

“I’ve got you,” she cuts in.