“Lo, is there something else? Something you’re not telling us?” Stana leans forward, placing her hand on my knee. In this moment I feel incredibly guilty about the secret I’m keeping at bay, but it’s just not the right time or place. Being so close to so many birthdays and Christmas, I don’t have the energy to monopolize everyone’s time and conversation. I’ll tell them in January. That I know.
“I’m just having a hard time, that’s all. The new year is coming, and it will all be okay.” I smile at them both, putting on the bravest face I can muster. I’m not usually the damsel in distress. I’m usually breaking down the door and hauling the girls out of shit, but I guess you can’t play that role in life forever.
“But enough about that. Stana, how is uni going? And Em, are you still on deadline for the hotel?”
My change in topic seems to grab their attention, Stana gushing about her master’s degree in psychology. It appears that a once-unknown depth of life has bloomed inside of her—something I had yet to witness in my dear cousin before her departure from Los Angeles. I guess it’s true; London really does hold that extra spark of magic.
“I am loving it, Lottie.” Stana beams. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s bloody difficult, but so worth it. Plus, Ali is such a help. I never knew it could be this good. I think a part of me had grown resigned to the fact that maybe I wouldn’t get this in life, but here I am.”
At the mention of her handsome lad, she brightens even more. It’s in these moments I know I’ve made the right choice to keep the pregnancy to myself. This is Stana’s time to shine in life, and I refuse to be the one to take that from her a moment too soon.
“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, Stana. I knew London would be the exact dose of medicine you needed,” I tell her.
“I think Stana moving to London was what we all needed,” Em adds in.
“Amen to that.”
“What about you, Em?” Stana asks. “How’s work going for you? Still stuck working with that hideous man?”
Stana doesn’t mean “hideous” in the physical sense, but I would bet money that his outsides match his insides. Bloody gross.
“He’s a right wanker, Em,” I toss in for good measure. Emilia has been commissioned to do some artwork for the Wentworth Estate Hotel, a top-tier chain in Covent Garden. Her only issue is the man who hired her. Basically, he used any excuse to be a dickhead and refused to give her name to clients who wanted to commission work from her.
She nods in agreement. “Hopefully I don’t have to deal with him for much longer. I’m working with another woman, Ms. Brown, and she is yards better so hopefully it stays that way.”
“Thank fuck for that,” I say, to which the girls laugh. They can always count on me for a bundle of swears.
We spend some more time catching up with one another, luckily avoiding any landmine topics. The girls eventually have to go, and I have no doubt their walk to the Tube will include the topic of Owen and me, but I push it down. I know if roles were reversed, I’d be the exact same. It’s their way of showing they care.
I spend ten minutes cleaning up before exhaustion takes over, my body desperate to lie down, even just for a moment. As soon as my head hits the pillow, it’s lights out.
“So, do you think you’re going to go?” Owen’s question pulls me away from the baby book I’ve been distracted by for the past hour. I raise my eyebrows at him, unsure what he means. He stopped over about two hours after the girls left, finding me still asleep. If I sleep tonight, it will be a miracle.
He leaves the kitchen and walks to me, his steps almost silent for a man his size.
“Edinburgh,” he clarifies. “Stana, Em, and Ali were talking about going for Christmas.”
I nod, the conversation fresh in my mind. “I don’t think so,” I tell him honestly. “I mean—” I pause, patting the fabric softly for him to sit before I turn my body toward him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go and be there for them. I know that Ali and Em were born there and it holds a lot of great memories for them. But it’s different for me. Beck managed to taint that place, and no matter how much I hate giving him that power over me, he has it. I don’t want to go back there, Owen. All that place holds for me is negative memories and heartbreak.”
He’s silent for a few moments, yet I don’t say anything to fill the quiet. That’s one of the great things about him—Owen speaks in his own time. No awkwardness, no need to fill the silence with useless chitchat.
“I get it. I was surprised you even said you’d think about it, if I’m being honest. That’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you about an alternative.”
“Okay?” I lean forward.
“So, I know it might seem like a lot, but my mum does this big thing with our family every year. There aren’t a lot of us, but we make it a good time. My brother, Hugo, will be here for two weeks. So, I’ve already talked to her about it, and she’d love it if you’d come.”
I unsuccessfully try to hide my grin.
“What’s that face for?”
I laugh. “Your mum already kinda invited me at lunch the other day.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Of course she did.”
“What can I say? We’re fast friends. Who knows, she probably likes me more than you now,” I tease.
“I wouldn’t put it past her. It’s not that hard to
