Page 33 of All the Forbidden Things

“You’ll always be my boy.” She smiles at me from the coffee table, where she’s now parked her backside. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I spoke to Mel when I got home last night, and she explained why you were doing what you’re doing. Makes sense now.”

“It would have made sense yesterday if you’d have just calmed down for a few minutes and listened to me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just that even the mention of that woman's name gets my goat.”

“Really? And, yet, you hide it so well.”

She pushes my shoulder. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, did no one ever tell you that?”

“I thought the mention of her name got your goat?”

“It does, why?”

“You just said Whit.”

Mum rolls her eyes at me like a teenage girl. “I said wit, not Whit, and just because you’re now a parent, doesn’t mean you can start with the Dad jokes.”

“What the f—”

Mum raises her brows, cutting off the F-bomb I was about to drop.

“What do you know about Dad jokes? Go make me a coffee, Grandma.”

“You’ll be getting a thick ear if I get any more of your lip, solider. I made you a coffee earlier, but when I brought it in, the pair of you were snoring.”

I look down at Layla cradled in my arm, sleeping soundly. “We had a bad night.”

“You’re doing great,” Mum says with a hint of pride in her tone.

I raise my gaze from Layla’s dark head of baby hair to meet Mum’s shining blue eyes. “I’m so worried I’m fucking it all up and terrified that going for full custody is the wrong thing to do,” I admit.

Mum reaches out and places her hand over mine. “You’re doing brilliantly, Max. Apart from your swearing in front of the baby, you’re doing such a good job. I’m so very proud of the way you’ve stepped up.”

My chest feels tight, and my throat feels clogged as I reply with a strangled, “Thanks, Mum. I just worry.”

“Welcome to parenthood, you’re always gonna worry.”

“I'm not sure that’s true for everyone. Whitney didn’t even ask how Layla was when I went to the hospital. She begged me not to take her away, but she never once asked how she was doing or if I’d bring her with me for a visit.”

“I don’t think that girl cares about anyone or anything except herself.”

“Why didn’t I see it before?You’venever liked her,Caldoesn’t like her, and yet, I married her?”

“Do you love her?”

I’ve gone over this time and time again in my head this past week or so, and I consider for a few seconds before answering, “Ya know what? I grew to love her. I don’t think when I met her my first thought was that I’d met the one. We met just before I went on tour, and it was more lust than anything at that stage. I liked having her in my bed, so I asked her to come with us.” I let out a long breath and lean back into the sofa, still holding a sleeping Layla in my arms. “It’s like we were living in fantasy land: The rock star and the model, planes, tour buses, hotel rooms, a different city every couple of days. And when we stepped out in public, the press would follow us around, and we got swept away in all of that. It felt good to have someone to finally share it with. Life on the road can get lonely,” I admit and shrug.

“I always thought it was just one big party.”

“It is if that’s the way you want it, but it doesn’t mean it’s not lonely. Different hotel bed with a different girl in it sounds like living the dream to most blokes, but when you’ve done it for as long as I have, it’s . . .” I trail off, not wanting to go into that part of my life with my mum while holding my daughter in my arms.

Not that Mum doesn’t know the truth. I can tell her anything.

“It was time, Mum. I was done with the partying. I was ready to settle down, and Whitney was there. I don’t mean that in a bad way, I wasn’t using her or anything, it just all kind of fell into place. She told me she was pregnant, and I wanted to do the right thing.”

“Sounds like you were more in love with the idea of being in love.”

“I think you’re absolutely right. Don’t take this the wrong way, Mum, you did a fantastic job raising me on your own, but that’s not what I want formykid. I want to be there, I want her to have brothers and sisters. Despite what’s gone on, I still want that. I’d love for that . . .” I lick at my dry lips again and meet Mum’s stare head-on as I bare my brutal truths with her. “I want to be loved, Mum. I don’t want it to be about the fame, the band, or the money. I just want someone to loveme.And I’m scared. I’m fucking terrified now that I’ll never have that. I couldn’t get it right when it was just aboutme, and I’ve Layla to consider now. She’s my priority. Between giving all of my time to her and my music, I worry that it’ll never happen, that I’m just gonna grow old all alone.”