Only You by Aurora Snow

Marissa’s POV

Waaaaaahhhhhhh. Waaaaaahhhhh.

The sound cut through my dream like a rusty blade. One moment, I was on a yacht off the coast of Amalfi, a waiter named Lorenzo bringing me an Aperol Spritz while the gentle Mediterranean lapped against the hull. The next, I was in a detached house in Fellsdello, staring at the ceiling in the grey pre-dawn light, listening to my youngest son’s lungs operating at full, terrifying capacity.

Ben," I whispered, nudging the mountain of duvet beside me. "Ben, Harry’s crying. It’s your turn.

The mountain didn't move. A loud, rhythmic snore rumbled through the room, sounding less like a husband and more like a contented walrus.

BEN!" I repeated, sharper this time. I drove a bony elbow into his ribs. He just grunted, rolled over, and pulled the covers higher, cocooning himself in a fortress of denial.

I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 5:30 AM. Fantastic.

You owe me big time, Mr. Bardeau," I grumbled, swinging my legs out of bed. The floorboards were cold, sending a shiver up my spine that chased away the last vestiges of the Italian coast. I slid my feet into my fluffy slipper boots and grabbed my dressing gown off the back of the door, wrapping it around me like armour against the morning chill.

Mummy’s coming, Harry," I called out softly, stepping into the hallway. The wailing ramped up a notch, a siren song of pure displeasure.

Suddenly, I heard the soft padding of little feet on the carpet. My four-year-old, Henry, appeared from his room, rubbing his eyes with chubby fists. His pyjamas were twisted, and his hair stuck up in a dishevelled tuft that made him look like a startled owl.

Mummy! Harry’s crying! He woke me up," he yawned, his voice thick with sleep.

Aww, sorry baby. Don’t worry, let’s go and see him together, shall we?" I took his soft, warm hand in mine. Henry was at that sweet age where he still wanted to help, even when he was half-asleep and grumpy.

I gently pushed the nursery door open. The smell hit us before we even crossed the threshold. It was a physical wall of odour, thick and acrid.

Yuck! Mummy, it smells in here!" Henry exclaimed, immediately pinching his nose and backing away. "It smells like... like the zoo!

He wasn't wrong. As I approached the cot, I saw the sight every mother prays to avoid before her first coffee. It was everywhere. The sleepsuit, the sheets, the pristine white sheets I had so lovingly chosen.

A "Poonami." Level 5. Total containment failure.

Oh, fantastic," I muttered, my voice dripping with the kind of irony that only 5:30 AM can produce. I scooped up a tearful, very smelly, and very slippery Harry, holding him at arm's length as I carried him over to the changing mat.

Henry, can you go and wake up Daddy? Tell him he needs to run a bath for Harry. Right. Now.

Can I jump on him to wake him up?" Henry asked, his eyes suddenly wide and sparkling with mischief. The sleep was gone, replaced by the chaotic energy of a small boy presented with a mission.

You might have to, darling. I’ve already tried twice. Maybe pull the curtains open and shout in his ear, too," I suggested, grabbing a pack of wet wipes.

Yay!" Henry squealed in delight. He sprinted down the hallway like a rocket. A second later, I heard the heavy thud of a four-year-old landing on a sleeping adult, followed by a thunderous Oomph! and Ben’s confused shout of, "Mate! What are you doing?

I smiled grimly to myself as I began the delicate process of peeling off Harry’s dirty clothes. It was like disarming a bomb. One wrong move and the disaster would spread to my dressing gown, and then I’d have to burn it.

Ten minutes later, I had Harry wrapped in a clean towel, though he was still fussing. Ben appeared in the doorway, scratching his head. His blonde hair was standing up in every direction, his eyes were barely open, and his t-shirt was on inside out.

Oh dear, babe. Poonami?" he chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as if he were merely an observer to the chaos.

I looked at him, then at the pile of soiled sheets in the corner, then back at him. "Glad you find it amusing. Since it was your turn to get up, and since I’ve done the hard part of the cleanup, he needs a bath. He’s all yours."

I handed him the squirming baby. "I’m going to get these sheets in the wash and start breakfast. Once you're done, bring him down."

Yes, Ma’am," Ben said, finally looking a bit more awake. He kissed my forehead—the only clean spot on me—and took Harry. "Sorry, love. I must have been in a coma. I didn't hear a thing.

Selective hearing," I muttered as I headed past him. "Get scrubbing.

Downstairs, Henry was already seated at the breakfast bar, scribbling intently on a piece of paper with a blue crayon. The kitchen was cold and quiet, a stark contrast to the madness upstairs.

What you drawing there, bud?" I asked, looking at the coffee machine like it was a holy shrine.

He picked up the paper and proudly thrust it into my face. It was a masterpiece of aggressive brown scribbles. "It’s you and Harry, Mummy! He’s covered in poo, and you have poo all over your hands, and I put a peg on your nose for you too! Look, the peg is blue, your favourite!"

I stared at the drawing. It was disturbingly accurate. "How... artistic. That’s definitely not going on the fridge." I smoothed his hair down. "What do you want for breakfast, Henry?"

Cocoa Puffs!" he shouted, banging his fist on the counter. "And I want the big bowl!

Okay, okay, calm down," I sighed, grabbing the box from the pantry. "But only one bowl, or you'll be bouncing off the walls by noon.

I poured the cereal, the chocolatey smell warring with the lingering scent of the "nursery disaster" in my nostrils. Once Henry was happily crunching away, I turned my attention to the most important task of the day.

I reached for the canister of coffee beans, my hands trembling slightly with the anticipation of caffeine. I had just gripped the cool metal lid, ready to start the grinding process that would restore my humanity, when the doorbell rang.

The chime echoed through the house, shattering the peace. I jumped, my hand slipping off the canister and knocking a teaspoon onto the floor with a loud clatter.. I glanced at the microwave clock.

6:30 AM.

I tightened my dressing gown and padded to the front door, leaving the unmade coffee behind. I pulled the door open to find Cleo stretching on my doorstep. She was wearing a neon pink leopard-print tracksuit, matching trainers, and a headband that kept her braids perfectly in place. She looked like she’d stepped out of an 80s workout video, and she looked disgustingly energetic.

She stopped mid-lunge and looked at me, puzzled. "Why aren't you ready? Did you forget? We’re going for a run!"

My mouth fell open. The run. I had completely forgotten. My brain was so full of school runs, Henry's tantrums, and dirty nappies that the "Self-Care Saturday Run" had been wiped from my hard drive.

Oh god, Cleo," I groaned, running a hand over my face. "I completely forgot. It’s been a morning. Honestly, I haven't even had coffee yet.

No coffee? That's a crime," Cleo said, checking her smart watch. "Come on, Mari. The fresh air will wake you up better than caffeine. Go get changed. I'll give you five minutes.

Come in, hun." I sighed, stepping back to let her in. "BEN!" I shouted toward the stairs. "Cleo’s here! You’re on kid-watch!

Ben appeared at the top of the stairs. He had worked fast; Harry was now pristine, dry, and fully dressed in a cute blue romper suit with a little dinosaur embroidered on the chest. He looked like an angel, completely absolved of his earlier crimes.

No need to shout, love. I’m right here," Ben said, descending the stairs with Harry on his hip. "Oh, hi Cleo. Bit early, ain't it?

We're going for a run, Ben. You're on duty," Cleo told him with a smirk, jogging on the spot in my hallway. "Go change, Mari! The avenue is calling! Chop chop!

Well, there's no arguing with you, Cleo," Ben laughed, bouncing Harry, who cooed happily. "Go on, love. I've got this. We'll be fine.

I trudged up the stairs, pulling off my dressing gown as I went. I caught a glimpse of myself in the landing mirror. Messy hair, tired eyes with dark circles, and a smudge of something brown on my cheek that I really, really hoped was chocolate from Henry’s Cocoa Puffs. I scrubbed it off, pulled on a pair of navy trackies and a sky-blue t-shirt, and tied my hair into a bun that could only be described as "desperate."

Won't be long, love!" I called to Ben as I headed back down.

As the front door closed behind us, the cool morning air of Fellsdello hit my face. It was crisp and smelled of damp earth and exhaust fumes, but it felt like freedom.

What a morning," I exhaled, falling into step beside Cleo.

Tell me all about it - f you can keep up, that is!" Cleo taunted, turning and starting to pick up speed. Her neon pink legs were a blur against the grey pavement.

Hey, wait for me!" I called, forcing my tired legs to move. "Some of us have birthed two children!

We jogged down the avenue, the rhythmic pounding of our trainers on the pavement acting as a kind of therapy. We passed the sleepy rows of houses, the newsagent just opening up, and headed toward the stile that led to the river path.

I finally caught up with her at the stile, breathless and sweating.

Smile!" Cleo held up her phone to snap a selfie before I could protest.

Cleo, no! I look like a tomato!" I gasped, clutching my side.

You look glowing!" she corrected, tapping the screen. "We should send it to the group chat. It will give us an excuse to ask Tia about Lovebomb. I bet she’s awake by now.

I clambered over the stile, not quite as daintily as Cleo had done. "Last one to the bridge buys the juices!" she shouted, already sprinting ahead.

Not fair! You always win!" I moaned, but I chased after her anyway. The competition felt good. It felt like me, not just 'Mummy'.

We ran for nearly an hour, looping through the park and back down toward the river. As we approached the bridge I noticed the sun was now fully up, and I was sweating, breathless, but feeling surprisingly human again.

Okay," Cleo said when I finally caught up with her, “Breakfast! Im famished!” We headed straight into The Boathouse, our favourite juice bar by the river. It was quiet, the early morning rush not yet started. The smell of fresh ginger and apples hit us as we walked in.

Two Berry Boosters, please - she's paying," Cleo told the barista, pointing a manicured finger at me.

We grabbed a table by the window overlooking the river. I slumped into the chair, grateful for the rest. I checked my phone. It was just past 8:00 AM.

So," Cleo said, taking a sip of her vibrant purple drink. "What happened this morning? You looked like you’d seen a ghost when you opened the door.

I told her everything - Ben’s initial refusal to wake up, the epic Poonami, Henry’s 'artistic' interpretation of my suffering.

The usual then," she laughed, shaking her head. "Ben needs a kick up the backside. He's a grown man, Mari. He’s their father. He needs to pull his weight

He does," I agreed, stirring my juice with a straw. "But he’s trying. I think. He just... gets so absorbed in his own world. But enough about my glamourous life. What about you? How’s Mr. Fireman?

Cleo’s face lit up, a genuine, soft smile replacing her usual sharp grin. "I was on the phone to Kyle until the early hours. He’s taking me out for lunch today at the Java Lounge. He’s going to be on nights for the next week at the Galencia Bay station, so it's our last chance to see each other for a while. I can't believe it's only our third date - it feels like I've known him forever!"

I'm so happy for you, Cleo," I said, and I truly meant it. She deserved to be happy. She worked harder than anyone I knew. "Just... make sure he's worthy of you, okay? No secrets.

No secrets," she promised. "He's an open book. A very hot, Italian blooded open book.

My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down and saw a notification from the "Margarita Senoritas" group chat. It was a message from Tiana, accompanied by a screenshot.

I tapped it open.

Tiana: 'Hey girls, if this is what dating apps are all about, I’m done before I even begin. My eyes need bleaching.'

I looked at the photo she had attached. I choked on my berry smoothie.

What?" Cleo asked, leaning over. "Are you okay?

You have to see this," I gasped, tears of laughter springing to my eyes as I turned the phone toward her. "Tia’s got her first match. And let's just say... it takes 'balls' to send a first message like that.

Cleo looked at the screen - at the photo of "Greg's Big Balls" - and shrieked with laughter, drawing stares from the barista. "Oh my god. Welcome to modern dating, Tiana."

I typed back quickly. 'Just give it a chance, Ti! There might be some ballers among those ballsers.'

We spent the next twenty minutes dissecting Tiana's reaction and laughing about the audacity of men on the internet. It was nice. It was normal.

We better head back," I said, checking the time. It was getting close to 8:45 AM. "I need to rescue Ben before Henry paints the walls with cereal or teaches Harry how to dismantle the toaster." I joked.

Yeah, I need to get ready for Kyle," Cleo said, polishing off her drink. "Thanks for the juice, babe.

We walked back at a brisk pace, cooling down. As we turned onto my street, I felt the dread of the day creeping back in, but it was manageable now.

I unlocked the front door at exactly 9:15 AM.

I’m home!" I announced, kicking off my trainers in the hall. "Just need a quick shower, then I’m all yours for an hour before I need to head out to meet Tia.

Ben poked his head out of the kitchen. "Did you have fun?"

It was good," I nodded. "Just what I needed.

I headed upstairs to shower. As the hot water hit my skin, scrubbing away the sweat and the stress, I thought about the day ahead. I was supposed to be meeting Tia for lunch at Fandangos at 12 PM. But my stomach growled, loudly. The juice hadn't touched the sides, and the run had turned me ravenous. Plus, Ben had mentioned a "Boys' Day" which usually meant the house would be turning into a warzone soon. I wanted out.

I grabbed my phone from the sink and sent a quick message to Tiana.

Mari: Hey babe. Can we meet at 11 instead? I’m famished! X

She text back immediately.

Tiana: Sure chic not a problem x

I wrapped a towel around my hair. I could hear Henry shouting something about "Boys' Day" downstairs.

I smiled. 11 AM sounded perfect. An hour earlier meant an hour less of chaos, and an hour sooner to that delicious Mexican meal.