She is quiet then. My hands are still in fists. I am ropeable. At her, at myself, at the world. Leo deserves better than this. He deserves a mother who is clean and sober. One who is loving and will cherish him. I grew up without a mother, and I know what it is like to just need that special female in your life to give you those cuddles, read you the stories and kiss your grazed knee. Leo shouldn’t have to go through life without that and I am a fucking failure for not providing it for him.

“Get some fucking sleep, Angelina, and stop calling me.” I hang up the phone, throwing it across the room, grateful that it hits my soft armchair rather than the wall.

Pissed off, I throw open the door and stalk into the kitchen. Both Little Red and Leo look at me, their bodies are still, eyes wide, not scared but unsure, like they don’t know what to say in case I yell at them. I don’t unleash my anger at home very much. I like this to be a nice and quiet, loving home for Leo, and a sanctuary for me.

I stop midstride, and look at them, realizing too late that in the rush to see the two people I want the most in my life, I didn’t school my features quick enough. Two of the last people I want to scare look hesitant and uneasy, all because of me. Sighing, I run my hand over my face. Understanding washes over me that I was louder than I thought as I yelled at Angelina just now. I have been trying for years to keep myself in check when it comes to Leo’s mother, not wanting him to have to be subjected to any of the negativity that will only upset him more. He’s been through enough. But, I let it slip just now and feel awful for it.

I walk across to Leo, slowly, my body language now more relaxed, and I ruffle his hair as he looks up at me. His eyes crease and a look of concern flashes across his face, but I give him a small smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry, Leo, she won’t take you. She won’t touch you. Never again.” I mean it. “You are safe, no matter what. You are safe here with me.” He nods at me slowly. I see his small body begin to shake slightly; the fear he has of his mother is something that has never left his body. I have no idea what he experienced because he won’t talk about it, but it is still blindly clear that it was traumatic for him. I look at Little Red then, and she stares at me with so many questions that will have to wait for another time.