A Storm Is Brewing

In A State

Leah POV

When Sophie suggested I go on this team night out to take my mind off things, I don't think she meant for me to take it quite this far. The noise of a club had never sounded so loud to me; the vibrations of the music travelling to the very top of my head and roaring around in my brain felt good. I felt free; is that bad? It sounds bad—it sounds really bad—to say that the idea that there was too much noise in my brain to think about the baby filled me with relief. It wasn't as simple as it might seem, though. I wouldn't change his existence, but I would change my blindness to the repercussions of having a baby before he was born. I had spent so many showers, car journeys, and flights imagining all of the moments that hadn't happened yet. I imagined Sophie finding us napping on the sofa, the baby cuddled into my chest, and the TV still playing a children's show despite the fact that no one was watching. I imagined Sophie and me cooing at him as he lay in his baby bath, chuckling as we put soap suds on his nose and blew them off. I imagined so many things that hadn't happened yet, and they hadn't happened because of me. I could never fall asleep when he wasn't secured in his cot, and even when he was, I was still struggling to settle myself enough for sleep. Every time he was in the bath, I held my breath, thinking he might drown or hit his head on the plastic edge, despite the fact that the baby bath was only a few centimetres deep and Sophie and I were both there watching his every move.

"I'm just going to the toilet. You coming?"
"Nah, mate. I'll keep dancing." I waved Lia away with my hand.

A few seconds after Lia left my gaze, a body moved behind me and placed their hands on my hips. The touch was gentle, affectionate, and warm.

"Soph." I whispered to myself.

I knew she wouldn't last the night without me. I didn't turn around; instead, I decided that I would simply enjoy this moment of feeling like a teenager dancing with their first love for a little longer. Butterflies swirled around in my stomach as I leaned my head back to rest on her shoulder, feeling her breath gently hit against my ear.

"You're not shy."

Fuck.

My body froze, my eyes jolting open as I suddenly remembered that this voice didn't belong to Sophie and that I had been so stupid to forget that Sophie couldn't possibly have been here. It wasn't like the old days; Sophie was at home with our baby. My mind didn't stop there; in those few seconds, my entire life with Sophie flashed in front of my eyes. All I could think of was the divorce papers, the news articles, the look on her face when I told her I'd cheated, and the thought of waking up for even one day without her by my side. I pushed the stranger's hands from my hips, turning to see the face staring back at me and scanning the room for anyone recording, but thankfully the room was too engrossed in their own dancing.

"Was that too much? Sorry, I'm Eve." The brunette smiled at me.
"You—I—what're you doing? What do you think you're doing?"
"Me? You literally couldn't get yourself close enough to me!"
"That's not true." I protested, knowing it was very true.
"What is your problem? What is actually wrong with you?"

I didn't speak; I just lifted my hand into the air and wriggled my fingers.

"Oh, you suddenly remembered you have a wife? Pathetic." She scoffed.

She didn't mean for her words to cut as deep as they did, and a sober mind would've known that she couldn't be blamed for thinking it strange that a grown woman would dance on her and then claim to be married. Then again, she didn't know that pathetic was exactly how I felt right now. I wanted to speak; I wanted to tell her that I was so drunk that I had thought she was Sophie. No words came out, though, only tears.