Baby Be Mine

years.
    ‘Anything else?’ he asks, dragging me away from my strange vision.
    ‘Um, can you just entertain Barney for a while?’ I try to focus on trimming the chicken breasts.
    ‘Sure. Come on, buddy, let’s go into the garden.’
    He goes out of the back door and I put the knife down on the countertop, trying to get my breath back.
    Barney wakes up early again the following morning. I bring him into bed with me, desperately hoping he’ll fall back asleep, but he’s having none of it. I’m shattered, and so confused about all the thoughts that have been endlessly spinning around my mind.
    There’s a knock at my bedroom door.
    ‘Come in?’
    I pull the covers over my chest because my vest top is a little revealing, and an extremely sleepy-looking Johnny appears around the corner.
    ‘I’ll take him.’ His voice sounds gruff. He’s wearing a white T-shirt, which he probably slept in, and denim jeans, which he’s obviously just pulled on. No shoes or socks.
    ‘Are you sure?’ I ask hopefully. Despite yesterday’s reservations, all I want to do now is close my eyes and sleep for a week.
    He nods. ‘Yep.’ He comes around to the other side of the bed and reaches down for Barney.
    ‘Go and play with Johnny,’ I say. Daddy . . .
    Johnny lifts him up and carries him out of the room.
    ‘Wake me if you need me!’ I call. Damn. Breakfast. I leap out of bed and go to the door. ‘Will you give him breakfast?’
    ‘Rice Krispies,’ he calls back. He’s halfway down the stairs already.
    ‘And can you warm up so—’
    ‘Milk. Yep.’
    I pause, half in and half out of my bedroom door.
    ‘Go back to bed,’ he shouts.
    ‘Okay.’ I smile and shut the door before doing as I’m told.
    It’s nine o’clock before I wake again. I could sleep for another hour at least, but I should get up. For a minute, though, I just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.
    Did I make the right decision?
    I can’t believe I’m asking myself this question, but I keep seeing Johnny playing with Barney and helping me in the kitchen last night . . . This could have been my life, my simple, domesticated, uncomplicated life.
    Uncomplicated? Am I insane? I know what he’s like, and, anyway, it’s too late.
    I climb out of bed and pull on my dressing gown. I’m about to go downstairs, but I pause and go into the bathroom instead. I might shower and get dressed first.
    ‘Good afternoon,’ Johnny says when I emerge.
    ‘Ha ha,’ I reply acerbically. ‘How’s it all been?’ I survey the mess in the kitchen.
    ‘Fine,’ he says, scratching his stubble.
    ‘Couldn’t be bothered to shave this morning?’
    ‘I haven’t had a second to myself!’ he exclaims. ‘Anyway, you don’t care if I shave or not.’
    ‘True,’ I concede with a smile. ‘Thanks for the lie-in.’ My tone is sincere.
    ‘Anytime.’
    ‘You mean that?’ I open my eyes wide with pretend delight.
    ‘Ha ha,’ he mimics, patting his pocket and nodding towards the door.
    ‘You’re officially off duty,’ I say and start to tidy the kitchen. I seem to be smiling more these days.
    I bet Christian isn’t smiling.
    And at that thought, neither am I anymore. It seems all I have to do is think of Christian and I’m brought back down to earth with a bump. I wonder if that will ever change.
    After a while, Johnny comes back inside.
    ‘You’re wearing make-up,’ he notes.
    ‘Oh, yeah,’ I brush him off. ‘I don’t usually bother, but I felt a bit more human after the extra sleep.’ I force a laugh and hope he doesn’t see through me.
    I tried not to make an effort after my shower, but I couldn’t stop my fingers from reaching into my cosmetics case.
    I turn back to Johnny. ‘Why don’t we go out for the day?’
    Johnny lights a fire that night, just like when we came here in the middle of winter. It’s a strange feeling coming downstairs and seeing him sitting there in front of the fireplace, watching the flames. It brings back old memories. I instantly feel nervous. I should sit at the table and carry on with the jigsaw puzzle, but I’m drawn instead to the place where Johnny is.
    I thought I was over him.
    It’s clear I was wrong.
    He doesn’t turn to look at me as I slide down beside him, our backs leaning up against the sofa. I wonder if he’s remembering the same thing as me. This was where we made love for the first time.
    ‘That was nice today.’ I force myself to make conversation.
    ‘Mmm.’
    ‘Barney likes you.’
    He