“I think you’re the last person on this earth who needs saving, Lottie. But sometimes, even the strongest people need a little help. I don’t want to save you. I want to help you.”
He’s silent for a few moments, his deep blue eyes connecting with my own, as if some cosmic force is pulling us together. I would try to look away, but the truth is, I don’t want to.
“When my mum got pregnant with my baby brother, she was all alone. I was the only person who could help her, and even I couldn’t do everything she needed. It crushed me as a kid to hear her crying alone at night when she thought I was sleeping, or her panic to make sure she gave me as much attention as the new baby. It was hard on her, Lottie, really hard, and I never really forgot it.”
He runs his hand across his mouth before he continues. “I’m not going to lie to you, Lottie. When I first saw you, you captured my attention instantly. You had this wit about you, and our banter just felt so easy. I was interested, but as soon as you shut that shit down, I saw the possibility of a friendship between us. Before Stana came along, Em was the only female friend I’d had. People see me and instantly assume that I’m either an idiot or a player. I’m not saying the latter hasn’t been true, but there is more to me, and I felt like you saw it.
“So yeah, I was drawn to you. And maybe this whole thing is weird and unconventional because we haven’t known one another for that long, but I don’t care. I don’t care because you’ve become an important person in my life, and I want to be there for you. So please, without an ulterior motive at play, let me.”
Stunned into silence for only the second time in my life, I eye Owen, attempting to process all he’s just said.
“Okay,” I reply honestly. “You can be here.”
His lips, which were previously in a line, tilt upward at my response, his tall frame rising up from the couch.
“Great, because we still have the rest of the Star Wars franchise to watch and I wasn’t going to leave anyway.”
I toss a pillow at him, just missing as he dips into the kitchen.
“At least get me some popcorn while you’re up.”
“As you wish!” he calls back.
“Thanks, puppy.”
I chuckle to myself as he groans in the kitchen, my earlier feelings of despair momentarily gone.
“Darling, are you sure you’re okay?” Joan, the head pharmacist at the chemist, looks me over. Her bright red cat-eye glasses sit at the tip of her nose, her big brown eyes magnified.
“I swear I’m okay. I just skipped breakfast and it’s made me a little dizzy.” I munch on the muesli bar she handed me, attempting to keep it down. It’s only a little over two months into this pregnancy, but so far I’m going through hell. The morning sickness is unparalleled, and don’t get me started on the dizzy spells.
Joan looks me over one more time before going to serve a customer. I doubt she’s fully convinced, but I’m not ready to spill the beans. She’s been working here over twenty years and has four children of her own, so I’m sure she’s clued in. But she would never ask, and therefore I don’t have to tell…well, not just yet.
I scarf down the rest of my bar, feeling a little better before going back to serve the next person in line.
Henry’s Chemist was the first place I got a job post-uni, and I stayed here until Beck swept me off to Edinburgh earlier this year. Luckily, Joan and I stayed in contact. Otherwise I’d be not only pregnant, but also jobless.
I quickly check myself over in my compact mirror, thankful my mascara hasn’t smudged and that I don’t look too disheveled. I pull at my sleeves, making sure they cover the tattoos on my arm. It’s not a policy, but I know they prefer a more polished look behind the counter. My feet wiggle in my black combat boots, my only touch of personality in this entire getup.
I take a deep breath, centering myself, now ready to serve whoever comes my way.
“So, are you bringing Noel tomorrow?” Stana leans against the brown table at Saint Street, her vision directed at Em. I keep sipping my mineral water, thankful that my stomach hasn’t decided to revolt against this morning’s breakfast.
“I might be,” Emilia replies, her voice coy in regard to the lad she is dating. Stana wants to cook dinner for all of us, a sort of pre-housewarming for close friends before the party they’re having later in the month.
“I’m so excited.” Stana beams. “Ali thinks I’m over-catering, but imagine if we didn’t have enough food.” The look of pure horror that crosses her face as she talks about her first dinner party that she’s hosting tomorrow makes me laugh.
“I think you’re going to be fine,” I tell her.
“Are you going to bring anyone, Lottie?”
We’re all quiet for a moment from Em’s question, my mind wanting to yell, “Just bringing my baby!” But I hold off.
“Nah, just myself. I think it’s going to be a while before I jump into the dating pond again.” I mean it more in regard to the fact I’m pregnant, but since neither of the girls know that, I assume they take it to mean because of Beck.
“You’ll meet someone extraordinary one day, Lo. I know it can be hard to see the light when you’re used to so much darkness, but it will happen.”
I smile at Stana and her words of reassurance, taking her hand in mine.
“I know,” I confirm. “To be completely honest, it’s not even
