I shrug a shoulder. “Just becauseourkids begin with C.” I shouldn’t be here discussing names with Justin. It should be Cal here with me, helping me decorate my new place. Instead, he’s blanked me.
He huffs, climbing up the ladder. “What you gonna call it if it’s a boy? Let me guess. Callum?” He says his name like he’s the antichrist.
“No. He’s due on his birthday. Calling him the same name would just be weird. I do like Caleb, though.”
“Yeah, I actually like that.” Justin pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. Placing the brush between his teeth, he types into the phone. “How ironic.”
“What?”
“Caleb means faithful.” He quirks an eyebrow, making me smile.
“What does Caitlin mean?”
He types in his phone again. “Pure.”
“That’s nice.” It kind of resembles a fresh start. A new baby that won’t be tainted by our toxic relationship. We’ve been getting on so much better as roommates these last few weeks. We’re verging on friends, which is something I haven’t felt around him for a long time.
My face brightens. I dip the brush in the paint and shuffle along the floor to the next bit of wall. “Do you remember, it took us ages to agree on names for Cassie and Cairen? I guess that’s one benefit of going it alone.”
“You’re not alone, Steph.” He gives me a sympathetic smile with a pained look in his eyes. “You still not heard fromhim?” The pained expression turns to an icy stare at the mention ofhim.
“No. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“How so?”
“His dad left when we were kids. He abandoned him. It was a difficult time for Cal.”
“Hang on. You knew him then?”
“I’ve known him my whole life.”
“It makes sense now. Your mum said he was your ex, but I didn’t know how far back your history went.” The pained look in his eyes returns. “Is he the wanker you were crying over when I called for your brother all those years ago?”
I smile, thinking about all the crying I did over him. “Probably.”
“So he left you then, and he’s left you again.” Justin shakes his head. “And I’m here picking up the pieces. Again.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to help when the baby comes, but I appreciate you helping me with my house.” My bum shuffles along the floor to applying more paint.
“Yeah, well, I’m not just doing this for you, Steph. My kids gotta live here, haven’t they? Even if it is half the week, I won’t have them living in squaller.”
“Before I forget, my friend Amy has asked if I can meet her in London for a weekend.”
“When?”
“Next month. Is that okay? I’ll write the dates down for you.”
“Sure. I’m out this weekend with the lads. Don’t forget.”
I roll my eyes. He’s always out on the razz lately, like he’s just got out of prison and making the most of life. I can’t blame him. Our marriage felt like a prison sentence sometimes; for me anyway.
After painting the bottom half of the walls, I leave the rest for Justin to finish while I tidy up the dining room. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Justin? It’s the least I can do to say thank you for all your help.”
He twists on the ladder and stares at me with pinched eyebrows. “You’re cooking?”
I huff and rest my fist on my hip. “I have learned to cook a few things this last week while I’ve been living on my own.”
“Oh? So, what are you cooking?”