Swallowing my sob, I grabbed a couple of sets of my clothes, putting them in the middle of my bed. I sorted Sasha’s stuff next, bundling up nappies, wipes, clothes, sleepwear, and dummies. I pulled open the drawer containing her blankets and sheets, unsure if I needed this type of thing. I didn’t want to talk to him again, but clearly I had to. I flicked my eyes over to him; he was leaning casually against my doorframe, watching my every move as if he thought I was going to bolt out the front door any second.

“Do I need bed sheets for Sasha?” I asked quietly.

He frowned at my question. “Er, I don’t know. What does she usually have?” His eyes settled on the cot at the foot of my bed and his nose crinkled in distaste. “I’ll buy a new cot,” he stated, waving his hand at it dismissively. Obviously, the second-hand cot Lucie gave me wasn’t good enough for him.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He had a real talent for making me feel useless and dirty with just a few words. “Fine. What about sheets?” I asked, swiping at the tear which fell down my face.

He groaned, rubbing his temples in small circles. “I don’t know… I’ll buy all new stuff!”

I threw the sheets back into the drawer. “Have you even thought this through? Do you have any idea how hard it is to live with a two-year-old? It’s not all fun and games, you know. This is my daughter’s life we’re talking about. Trust me, it’s hard,” I spat, looking at him knowingly. Maybe I could scare him into thinking about it again.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not stupid, Emma. I know it’s gonna be hard, but I’m not one to walk away from my responsibilities. I’m here now to make it easier for you, all of you. Please, just pack your shit, just enough for a couple of days. Everything else we’ll get new or pick up another time.”

I sighed, threw another armful of clothes onto the bed, and then headed to the bathroom, grabbing wash things and toothbrushes before heading to Rory’s room. I tried not to go through his personal items too much as I grabbed his clothes. I had no idea what Rory was going to say about all this. How was he going to feel when he found out his big sister got knocked up by a client in the strip club she worked for? I hadn’t told him. I’d lied and told him it was a guy I’d been seeing for a few weeks. I couldn’t bear to see any disapproval from him at the time, so I’d hidden the truth.

I headed back to my room, setting Rory’s clothes on my bed. I didn’t bother with school books; he could have a couple of days off. Hopefully, I’d be able to talk some sense into Carson and then we could just go back to normal before this went too far. I looked at the huge pile of stuff on the middle of the bed wondering what I could put it in.

I bit my lip and Carson stepped up next to me. “You have a suitcase or something?” he asked, looking around my room.

I laughed humourlessly and shook my head. “No.” Suitcases were for people that could afford to go on holiday. That certainly wasn’t us.

He sighed. “A bag then? Anything?”

I sat on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands. “Carson, please, I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. Raising a child in a home where the parents don’t love each other can be worse than being raised by a single parent. Let’s just talk about this. You don’t really want to marry me, and I don’t want to marry you.”

Only part of that statement was true. I would marry him in a heartbeat if he just told me he cared about me, even just the smallest bit. If he smiled at me and asked me to marry him, I would say yes immediately, and I would play the dutiful little wife for the rest of my days. The wife who did everything her husband wanted – the perfect little wife who had dinner on the table when he walked through the door and her sexiest underwear under her clothes just in case. I would do that for him in a heartbeat if he would just give me the smallest sign of affection.

I looked at him again, silently begging him for a smile, a touch, a kiss, anything.

“We’re not talking about it, it’s decided,” he stated confidently.

I needed to try another tactic. “If you really don’t like her living here, then set up some sort of trust fund for her. If this is about what I can afford, then help me. Please, don’t force us all into something that’s gonna make everyone miserable in the long run,” I begged.

He didn’t say anything, just walked out of the room, leaving me staring after his back with my heart in my throat. He was being so cold to me. Was it because I hadn’t told him about Sasha? If I had told him when I was pregnant, would he have insisted the exact same thing he was insisting now? I gulped and rubbed my eyes. I just needed to go back to sleep and then wake up to find out this was just a horrible nightmare. That was what it felt like; the way Carson was looking at me with those hard hateful eyes felt like something from my worst nightmare.

He padded back into the room with a couple of black bin liners. Silently, I watched as he started picking up all the things I’d put on the bed, throwing them into the bags. “Is there anything else you want to take?” He didn’t even look at me as he spoke.

I pushed myself up from the bed. He couldn’t even be bothered to answer my questions or discuss it with me. It was my life, Sasha’s and Rory’s lives, and he was just making all the decisions. And we just had to go along with it?

“You’re a fucking arsehole, Carson,” I growled.