BooksBarbecue
Back Melting For You
Chapters (45)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-One
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  43. Epilogue
  44. Acknowledgements
  45. About the Author

I left Jack and Ellis sleeping in their rooms when I let myself out and drove silently home. But every part of me wanted to crawl into bed with her. To stay close to the family we had created. To pretend, even for one night, that the fake relationship we were allowing the world to believe could be real. Every second I’m not with them, Ellis and I are texting. Little updates on the baby and whatever vegetable they are this week (turnip apparently), or what Jack did at school and if there were any fun customers at Bloom and Blossom that day. Those small, mostly insignificant details of our daily lives keep me attached to my phone.

As though she knows she’s on my mind again, my phone pings in my pocket when I walk through my front door coming back from the gym.

I know I’ve said it a million times but thank you for last week. <3

Spending time with you both is never a chore.

Still, it isn’t your job.

Why isn’t it?

Because you didn’t sign up for looking after me.

I know what I signed up for El, I want to be the person who helps you.

I want to be a person who doesn’t need help.

Everyone needs help.

My heart sinks at her messages. Ellis isn’t wrong, she has thanked me a million times. And I have responded a million times in the same way.

I plop my phone on my couch, knowing Ellis probably won’t reply to my final message for a while with her busy schedule. I need a distraction from thinking about how little I can really do to help. I notice one of the many parenting books I have read is open on my coffee table, waiting for me to dive back in. Even though I’ve read so many, I have yet to be comforted by the words. I have found a trend; every single one of them says that there is no way to fully prepare. I can summarise all of these books in barely one page:

  1. Babies cry.
  2. Babies shit.
  3. Babies eat.
  4. Have patience.
  5. Good luck.

So far these books have been unhelpful, and Ellis is going to have to lead the blind. I can’t think too hard about that, because it reminds me how Ellis had nobody to help her with Jack, and my heart hurts for her all over again.

It’s become a new pattern of mine to keep concealing my emotions for Ellis. My worries for her, my caregiving, my attachment. But over the past few weeks, I have been trying to find the confidence to tell Ellis that I want us to truly be an us.