“It’s hard being without your parents. I don’t think it ever gets easier, not at any age. That’s probably why I’ve adopted so many of Owen’s friends as my own. I think everyone needs a mum on call when theirs can’t be there.”
I nod, my throat tightening with emotion.
“You need anything, you call me, okay? I know we just met, but my son doesn’t invest time in just anyone, and that tells me all I need to know.”
I smile, nodding because once again the Bower family have left me speechless, not an easy feat.
“Now, darling, you said you’re seeing your parents next year. What does that mean for your Christmas? Are you staying in London?”
I avoid her sympathetic eyes. “I haven’t actually thought about it, to be honest. I’m not sure what Owen’s told you, but this year has been pretty challenging for me. I’m still trying to get my bearings. Christmas has been the last thing on my mind.”
“Well, it would be an absolute pleasure to host you here, Lottie. I know you don’t know me very well, but something tells me we are going to be great friends.”
The men come back into the room at that moment, Owen’s gaze going straight to where my hands are locked with his mother’s, then darting to my face.
He gives me a look to ask if I’m okay, but I nod, letting him know I’m indeed okay. I’m actually more than okay.
“Ooh, cake!” Evie interrupts, clasping her fingers together. “Lottie, you should know this is Owen’s absolute favorite chocolate cake in the whole universe.”
“Well, I’m excited to try it then.” I lean back in the chair as Evie doles out huge slices of chocolatey goodness to everyone. I take a bite and indeed, it’s the best fucking cake I’ve ever had.
I look around Stana and Ali’s Shoreditch flat filled to the brim with faces, some familiar and some new. They’ve been living here for two months now, and this is only the third time I’ve been able to come over. I feel bad about being a bit absent, but it’s clear to me everyone has their own things going on.
Stana is busy finally enjoying her life, being all loved up with Ali and going back to uni. Em is busier than ever with her work, having acquired a big hotel as a client to paint some pieces for. Reeve, well, I’m still not sure about him. Yeah, we’re friends, but he’s seemed even more distant and aloof than usual. Perhaps it’s because I don’t know him like I do everyone else, but my mind tells me something is going on there.
I just don’t have the energy to dig too deep into it. Lord knows I’m hiding my own secrets. The last thing I need to do is pry about others.
I grin as I watch Stana fling herself at Ali, her hair flying around her face. They are definitely in love, and I don’t know if anything could make me happier. Stana hasn’t always had the easiest run, so seeing her get this, it’s fucking magic.
“She’s wasted,” Em says from next to me, a slight sway to her words. “And I also might be a tad wasted.” She starts nodding, her curly hair pinned up with pieces sticking out. Definitely rocking the sexy art-teacher look, despite not actually trying to. I attempt not to laugh at her, my mind knowing I’d miss all this if I too were drinking. I guess being the sober one has its perks. Does that mean I’m going to stay sober once the baby is born? Fuck no. I need a glass of wine like there’s no tomorrow.
“It’s a party. You might as well celebrate,” I reply, hating how my head automatically scans the crowd.
“Owen’s in the kitchen,” she tells me, then chugs the rest of her drink. I keep my features neutral as I respond.
“I wasn’t looking for him.” My voice comes out level, sounds truthful even.
“Okayyyyy,” she drawls, “but you know, if you were looking for him, that would be okay too. You know that, right, Lottie? I’ve seen Owen around you. He cares.”
I try to smile at her, but it feels forced, sad.
If only she knew.
Sure, if there were no baby, maybe Owen and I would have had a chance, but that isn’t my reality. And now that I’ve accepted this baby, there is not a single thing I’d do to change the path I’m on.
Turning to Em, I place my hand on her arm. “I know he cares, Em. That’s probably his best and worst trait. How much he cares about people.” I decide to be truthful for once, because dismissing Owen’s attributes feels as if I’d be doing the universe a great disservice. And as much as I can lie about myself, I just can’t lie about him.
“Huh?” Her face twists up and I realize I probably shouldn’t be going deep while she is three sheets to the wind.
“I’m just being dramatic.” I finish my Coke, ready to leave soon. I spot Owen through the crowd of people, walking toward me. He’s got a goofy grin on his face, his eyes giving away how much he’s had to drink. Good, I’m glad he’s letting loose. I worry all he does these days is try to cater to my every need despite my insistence that he live his life.
He’s in front of us the next minute, lifting me off the ground and into a big bear hug. Even drunk, he’s careful of my stomach. He smells of pine and whiskey. My mind wants me to cling to him and run at the same time.
“Having fun?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Indeed, I am.” His big dopey smile is directed at me, and only me. I don’t miss how my body warms to him. But tonight only shows me that I need to prioritize my feelings for him. He’s got so much life to live and although we can be in one another’s
