Selfish Love

He smirked. "You know I'm not up all night partying or anything, right? Sometimes I even work here at like, eight a.m."

I stared at him, then swallowed and nodded quickly.

"That would be helpful, yeah. If you don't mind."

He touched me again, a soft pat on the shoulder before guiding me down the hallway. "Anytime. I'm happy to help."

Three

I would never admit it to anyone--not even to Em, and Em knew everything about me--but I was insanely thankful that I had a daughter and not a son.

Don't get me wrong. If I'd given birth to a boy, I would have loved him as much as I loved Baylee. He would never have felt neglected or sad or like his mom didn't care about him. And it wasn't that I'd spent my pregnancy praying for a girl or anything.

It's just that, when my marriage imploded, I couldn't stop thinking about how hard it would have been to have a little man in my life who was a reminder of Daniel.

Daniel had wanted a boy. He hadn't been at that appointment--he attended barely any of the appointments because childbirth was a "woman" thing and he had "man" things to do--after the doctor congratulated me on my daughter-to-be, I was certain I'd misheard. I couldn't be having a girl. I couldn't. Daniel wanted a boy and what Daniel wanted, Daniel got.

Otherwise, there would be consequences.

When he got home from work that night, I'd been the very model of The Perfect Wife. It was a role I played often while Daniel and I were married, which would have surprised anyone who knew me post-divorce. I couldn't blame them; it was hard to reconcile the multi-coloured hair and plethora of piercings I sported now with the Stepford Wife I'd once been.

That was the woman Daniel had walked into see that day: his quiet wife, wearing a modest-but-flattering dress over her growing belly, blonde hair neatly pinned back, a pristine apron over her outfit to protect it from all the splashes and splatters she hadn't dared let touch the fabric as she cooked. On the table was The Perfect Dinner: meat, potatoes, vegetables that could have used a bit more salt, but since salt was almost An Actual Flavour, I didn't dare use too much of it. After all, then it wouldn't be close enough to his mother's cooking, and that might make Daniel Very Mad.

He wasn't mad, though. He saw his Perfect Dinner on the table and his Perfect Wife in the kitchen, shaking palms hidden by the apron's skirt as she wiped them off before greeting him, and he smiled. He put his briefcase by the door and his keys on the counter and crossed the kitchen, sliding an arm around my waist as he leaned down to kiss me.

"Look at you. How could I be any more blessed?" he murmured, and I'd drunk so much of his goddamn Kool-Aid by that point that I straight-up melted in his arms. "How was your day, my dear?"

"G-Good," I responded.

One eyebrow flicked up. He knew I was lying, and I knew he was calling me out on it, and I trembled as I met his eyes.

"I had that doctor's appointment today."

Daniel nodded, intense eyes studying me. "And?"

"We... we're having a, um... a girl."

I'd imagined any number of reactions he might have. In my mind, I'd heard him yell. I'd heard him berate me. I'd watched him sneer and blame me for not being able to give him a son. I'd felt his breath as he huffed his derision, felt my heart crack as he wondered aloud what in the hell he was supposed to do with a daughter instead of a son. I'd spent the whole day playing scenario after scenario in my head, trying to plan what I'd do if he got Very Mad.

I hadn't imagined a scenario where he stared silently at me before a small smile began to play on his lips. I watched it grow, hesitant to mimic the expression until it reached his eyes.

"A girl," he repeated.

"Yes," I said.

A gentle hand touched my stomach. "That's my daughter in there."

I nodded, and he embraced me in one of those ways that made me forget all the horrible things about him, thanking God for blessing our little family with The Perfect Daughter.

And really, even with all his faults--and there was an absolute fuckton of faults--I couldn't claim that Daniel didn't care about Baylee. I assumed it was more about his image as a Perfect Father rather than actual love for our child, but he cared. He cared so much that he'd tried to get custody back time and time again, but luckily for me, his anger issues had manifested in ways that left mountains of evidence and a paper trail that meant no judge could justify letting him buy his way into being Baylee's primary caregiver.

He was still entitled to some days with her and I was constantly battling with him about which holidays he got to "have" her for, but for the most part, Daniel's role in Baylee's life was mainly monetary. Each month, he dutifully sent his child support payment directly to my bank account. It still never seemed to be enough, not after school fees and field trips and birthday parties and Girl Scouts, but asking for more money wasn't worth the cost of giving that much power to Daniel.

I'd tried explaining that to Em once, but she didn't understand how horrid he was and I didn't like dredging up all those memories. All that meant was that she didn't know just how tight money was for me sometimes; to be fair, until Alex had fucked his way into her life, it hadn't mattered all that much. There were days I was insanely jealous of her: she didn't know who Leia's father was, so she didn't have to deal with a psycho ex every month.

I, on the other hand, had to talk to him at least twice a month. Once on the first day of each month when I confirmed I received his payment and informed him which day he was allowed to see Baylee, which was the second time I had to talk to him. He would agree and ask how much it would take for him to get an extra day or weekend with her, and I'd mentally tell him to go fuck himself before politely informing him he would need to speak to the courts about that. He would sigh, ask me if we really had to go through all of that again.

"It was one mistake, Kelsie," he would say.

"You put me in the hospital, Daniel," I would reply.

"I would never do anything to hurt her."

"You said you would never do anything to hurt me."

"I've changed. I'm not the kind of person who would do that anymore."

"So have I. I'm not the kind of person who would let you."

"She's my daughter, too. You can't keep her from me."

"I'm not keeping her from you. I'm giving you the court-mandated amount of time you're supposed to spend with her."

I did have to relent occasionally, especially since Baylee was still too young to truly understand what all the presents and toys and adventures to amusement parks meant. As much of a piece of shit as Daniel was, I didn't badmouth him to her.

And he was. He was a huge piece of shit.

"You're late," he said when he answered my call on the first of the month.

I stared at the front of my house from my spot in the car, hoping that Baylee and Leia wouldn't look out the window and realize I was home almost as much as I was hoping Daniel wouldn't be able to tell I had completely forgotten it was the first of the month until I was driving home after my shift.

Or at least, that's what I was telling myself. I mean, I must have completely forgotten. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the crushing coil of dread in the pit of my stomach that had been growing and twisting for the past few days, ever since I realized I'd have to ask Daniel for money to pay for the stupid fucking Taylor Swift tickets.

"I had to work," I said flatly.

"It's Saturday."

"Yeah? Sometimes I work Saturdays, Daniel."

"You could have called on your break," he replied. "Or texted to let me know. Or, I don't know, let me have an extra day with my daughter since you were busy anyway."

"It was last minute. I have a babysitter for her."

"So you'd rather waste money on some unknown tween instead of letting me see her."

"She's with Em," I lied. "And you wouldn't have made it in time. And your day with her this month is the fifteenth."

"God forbid I get an extra day with her once in a damn while."

The coil of dread in my stomach pulsed and I almost puked all over my steering wheel. "Well, I was, ah... thinking about that, actually."

There wasn't so much as a gasp or a muted noise of surprise; Daniel simply went silent.

"Were you?" he finally asked.

I kept my eyes glued to the front door of my house, willing my lunch to stay where it was as I tried to remember the words I'd rehearsed over and over in my mind. It had apparently been useless; the only thing my mind seemed capable of doing was watching in horror as I stooped to his level.

"Yes," I managed to say. "I... I thought maybe this month you should have an extra day with her. The fifteenth and the sixteenth. She c-could stay with you."

"Why?" he demanded.

My palms began to sweat as I tried to collect my thoughts, which apparently took too long.

"Why, Kelsie?" he repeated. "You have never offered an extra day with her. What's changed?"

"I--"

"Are you seeing someone?"

My mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

"You're seeing someone."

"I'm not--"

"No? Because I can think of no other reason you'd offer an overnight visit when you've never so much as let me have an extra minute with my daughter before. Has she met whoever it is you're slutting around with?"

"Fuck you."

The words fell out of my mouth; I didn't think them so much as spew them, and it was only once they were out that I kind of wished I'd spewed puke instead.

"Excuse me?" Daniel said after a moment.

The dryness in my mouth was almost painful; I swallowed, hoping it would help, but it was like sandpaper coated my tongue and throat. It was disgusting, really, the way it had taken me years--fucking years--to muster up the strength to leave him, and then even longer to find the strength to stand up to him, and in one conversation, all that fragile strength began to crack.

I was not the kind of person who would let him hurt me anymore, I told myself. It was a bit of a lie, but I managed a shallow breath so I could speak again.

"First of all, it's none of your business," I said, my voice shaking. "Second of all, no. I'm not seeing anyone. I'm offering an extra day because Baylee wants to go to the Taylor Swift concert and I..."

I didn't need to finish the sentence.

"You need money," he said, sweet delight masked beneath the words.

"I thought it would be a good Christmas present," I muttered. "She wants to go with Leia."

"Hmm," he said, then fell silent until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Will you help me or not, Daniel?" I asked.

"I will," he said.

I closed my eyes. "Thank--"

"But not for one extra day."

The absolute shistain.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Two weeks."

"Fuck you."

He laughed. "Language, Kelsie."

"You're not taking her for two weeks."

He made a tsk-ing sound. "Taylor Swift tickets aren't cheap, you know. And I'm not asking for a lot here."

"It's not happening," I said.

"Really? You're going to stop your daughter from getting to see her idol because you're too selfish to let me have her for a couple of weeks?"

"Not even," I spat back. "I'll get the tickets another way."

He chuckled. "Sure you will."

I seethed. "Goodbye, Daniel."

"Talk to you soon, my dear."

Four

I tried to shut the front door quietly as I walked in so I could take a few minutes to collect myself after talking to Daniel, and I succeeded.

Then I tripped on a pair of stylishly beat-up Converse sneakers and stepped on Pepper's chew toy, which let out a shrill squeak that pierced through the sound of rock music coming from my living room.

"Sounds like your mom's home," I heard Jimmy say.

"Oh, no!" Baylee cried.

Any other day, I would have laughed. That day, a lump clogged the area behind the base of my throat. I kicked my shoes off and hung up my purse.

"What a welcome," I said, my voice dry as I peeked into the living room.

The girls were standing in front of the TV, Leia holding a plastic guitar and Baylee clutching a wireless microphone to her chest. Jimmy sat on the couch, sock-clad feet resting on the coffee table. A video game console was resting on the TV stand, the associated video game paused on the screen as all three of them looked at me.

"We just wanted to keep playing," Leia explained earnestly. "And if you're back that means Uncle Jimmy is gonna take his games and go home."

"We were having fun," Baylee said sadly.

Jimmy caught my gaze for all of a second before he took his feet off the coffee table and stood up.

"Keep playing," he said. "Your mom and I are gonna hang out for a bit."

I raised my eyebrows at him, but the girls squealed in excitement and Baylee unpaused the game. It only took him a few long strides to cross the room, leaving me no choice but to step back and let him guide me down the hall to the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice.

"Nothing," I said, shaking his hand off my arm. "I'm fine."

"Right. That's why you've got that look on your face like nothing is fine."

I snorted as I walked to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Since when are you such an expert on what looks I have on my face?"

"Since I kind of like your face."

I glanced at him over my shoulder, showing him what my face looked like when I was unimpressed. "Bullshit isn't going to win you any points."

"It's not bullshit."

I turned back to the fridge and reached for two water bottles. "Flattery, then."

"It's not that, either."

"Whatever you want to call it then."

"What, it can't just be that I'm flirting with you?"

I snorted and closed the fridge door. "Jesus, Jimmy, I'm not old enough that you have to pity-flirt with me like I'm an elderly lady in line at the CVS or something."

"I... what?"

I rolled my eyes at him and held out one of the water bottles. "Never mind. Drink this. Knowing you, you haven't had a sip of liquid since you finished your coffee this morning."

He rolled his eyes but chuckled, taking the water from me. "You know me."

"Hydration is important, young man."

"Not that young, you know."

There was some kind of snarky response on the tip of my tongue, but the soft rumble of his voice stopped me. He met my eye again, but before I could say anything, he cracked the water bottle open and took a sip.

"Whatever," I mumbled, and mirrored his action.

He put his water bottle down on the counter. "Talk to me, Kels. What's going on?"

I sighed, then procrastinated responding by taking another slug of water.

"Another rough day at work?" he guessed.

And see, I should have said yes. I should have made up some story about how there was an essential oil spill on the production line that caused a huge backup and that the whole warehouse now smelled like lavender which meant it was almost impossible for quality control to make sure the other candle scents didn't all smell like lavender, not that I knew what that was like from experience or anything.

But Em was still on vacation, and Jimmy was right there, dark eyes studying me as I struggled to keep my thoughts on the inside, and Leia and Baylee were in the other room screeching at the TV in an attempt to sing a song written years before either of them were born.

I mean, I couldn't tell him everything. Maybe it was pride or maybe it was shame, but I didn't want him to know how tight things were for me and Baylee. And I didn't want him to know why I'd wanted extra money from Daniel since that would require admitting I'd gotten myself into this mess because I was too stubborn to tell Mike how much I'd be willing to spend on the stupid concert tickets.

Above all, I didn't want to tell him all the things Daniel had done to me, all the reasons why I couldn't just demand money from him, all the ways my ex-husband could punish me if I slipped up even a little.

But I could tell him some things.

"I just got off the phone with my ex," I said quietly, though there was no chance in hell the girls would be able to hear me over their yowling. "It's child support day. And I... well. Let's just say I needed something from him and his response was to tell me he wanted to take Baylee for two weeks in exchange."

Jimmy looked confused. "Two weeks?"

"He's supposed to get one day a month," I said. "He picks her up at eight and she needs to be home before bed. So he isn't... it's not happening. He can't have her that long."

"Right," he said, his voice guarded in a way that I hated.

My annoyance surged and I looked up, glaring at him. "Let me guess. You think I'm a horrible, evil ex-wife who's trying to keep some guy's kid from him."

He scowled right back at me, though his smouldering glare was far more masterful than mine. "Give me some credit, Kels. I know your ex is an asshole."

"Sure you do."

"I do." He put his water bottle down and folded his arms. "And besides, why would I take his side over yours? I know you."

"You know what I want you to know," I muttered, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"I know enough. You might not say much, but that doesn't mean Baylee doesn't talk about him."

I physically felt the blood drain from my face as I snapped my head up. "She... what?"

The scowl faded off his face. "Well, I mean... yeah."

"She talks to you about her dad?"

He glanced towards the living room. "Sort of. Like, not... Kind of in passing, I guess. Leia does, too."

The whole idea of eyes popping out of someone's head had to be exaggerated because if it was possible, mine would have shot across the room. "Does Em know?"

He shifted again. "Not... no. I haven't--"

I put my water bottle on the counter a bit more firmly than I needed to. Just enough that the plastic made a crinkling sound and water sloshed out of the top and pooled on the counter top.

"Jimmy, what the fuck?"

"It's not what you think. They're old enough to have questions about shit, you know?" He folded his arms and tilted his head as he looked at me. "But it was mostly today."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed heavily. "I brought video games over because I thought they'd like them. Baylee got all excited and started telling Leia about this arcade her dad took her to. Before I know it, Leia starts wondering why she doesn't have a dad, and I mean, I know she's asked Em before but it's not..."

"She doesn't know if Em's telling her everything, so she asks you," I finished.

"Pretty much."

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth," he said. "That I didn't know who her dad was. But that her dad didn't know about her, either, 'cause if he did, he'd for sure want to know her. I thought that'd make her, you know... feel less like he didn't want her."

"Did it?"

He shrugged. "She still seemed pretty sad, so Baylee tried to tell her that all the things her dad takes her to and gives her and stuff aren't that good, but I think that just made Leia jealous." He cleared his throat. "So she, uh, shared probably a little more than she should have."

My body didn't know how to react. My stomach was dropping and tightening at the same time; my throat was dry at the same time that my mouth began to water like I was going to throw up. "She... she never asks me about it. What does... what did she tell you?"

"I don't think she knows what happened to make you and him split," he said carefully. "She doesn't remember a lot."

"She was only four."

He nodded. "She said she remembers you went away on a trip and it was just her and her dad, and then one night you came back while she was sleeping. Then you went to the car together and all her toys were there."