We sit together rocking back and forth until she’s full, her eyes drifting shut again. I right her on my shoulder, then burp her until I know it’s okay to put her down again. As soon as she’s back in her cot I want to pick her up again and nuzzle my face into her soft, warm neck. But I could never wake her, so I drag my over-exhausted body to bed and let sleep take hold. Well, at least for another few hours anyway.
“Darling, why don’t you go take a nap and I’ll watch Rosie?” My mother’s voice infiltrates my fuzzy mind as Rosie sleeps upon my chest. She sits next to me, knitting in hand. It’s a rare sight, but one I don’t mind.
“No, it’s okay, Mum. I need to stay awake anyway.”
“What time are the girls coming over?”
I scratch my head. “Uh, I think five? They’re going to stop by before the guys’ show tonight.”
“You know if you wanted to go, I’d be more than happy to look after her.”
“I know, Mum. I think it’s just a little soon for me to be leaving her.”
She nods. “I was like that with you. It took your father practically forcing me out of the house alone one day when you were six months for me to finally understand mums need time too.”
“I’m sure I’ll get there, just not yet.”
She pats my hand before going back to her knitting. “So, I was talking to Evie this morning and we were thinking of going to dinner tomorrow night, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t need me.”
Since my mum and Evie meeting at my baby shower, the two have become fast friends, going as far as to plan upcoming FaceTimes for when Mum’s back in France.
“I think that’s great. You deserve a break. Lord knows you’ve been doting on me for weeks.”
She dismisses me with a wave. “I’d never have it any other way, Lottie. You’re my little girl and you will be until you’re my age. I’d never want to miss these moments.”
Smiling at her, I mentally thank the universe for her being here over the past month. Despite me having Owen and the girls, they’ve all got jobs they need to go to during the day, and since I can no longer go to mine, well, let’s just say I’ve been bored and overwhelmed.
The next three weeks fly by, with Mum staying a little longer to help out. It was the biggest help I could imagine because despite reading every baby book and watching all the documentaries, I still wasn’t prepared for what motherhood entailed.
Before I know it, Rosie is one month old, her personality growing daily. We’ve managed to get into a slight routine, but she’s still so small that it holds little ground. Everyone comes over when they have the chance, but the reality is they all have full-time jobs and commitments, not able to drop everything and come see me when I’m feeling lonely.
I see Owen the most, despite still pushing him to date. I know it pisses him off, but luckily he says nothing, just entertains me. I don’t know if he’s actually gone on any dates, but I like to hope he has. As much as it does something to my insides, like twisted-up wet laundry something, I can’t hold him back. I know if he had it his way we’d be together, but I’ve just had a baby. It’s less than practical.
So instead we accept one another’s friendship, both of us pushing away any other thoughts to the best of our abilities. Because our friendship means more than anything, his relationship with Rosie means more. She needs all the strong male figures in her life that she can get.
So, when he comes over later that night, with my favorite takeaway, I know I’ve done the right thing by pushing him away. It’s better to keep this type of relationship than attempt a romantic one.
An hour after eating, with me sprawled across the couch while Owen sits on the floor with his back against it, I scroll through his dating profile I made him set up.
Call me crazy—maybe I’m even a glutton for punishment—but in order to be okay with how much time he spends with me and Rosie, I need to make sure he is still living life.
“What about this girl?” I hold up her profile in his face. She’s a brunette, big smile, big boobs, and she loves music and a drink at the pub.
I tell him she seems great but he says nothing, his eyes looking away from my own.
“Oh, come on, Owen, you need to give these people a shot or you will never meet anyone.”
“Lottie,” he says, voice suddenly serious. He turns his head from the TV, his attention suddenly on me.
“What?”
He huffs. “Why are you being so aloof about this? Glazing over everything that’s happened between us? Pushing me on other people?”
“Owen, we’ve been over this. I can’t give you what you want. I’m in zero position to be in a relationship and honestly, I don’t have it in me to try,” I lie. Lie, lie, lie. It’s always a lie with him these days, because in truth, it’s only him I want, but I’m too much of a little bitch to admit my feelings. Plus, I have a one-month-old.
“Baggage” is an understatement.
He nods for a second, his gaze drifting off. “Sure, she looks fine,” he says.
“Great! She wants to meet for coffee tomorrow.” I waggle my eyebrows at him, trying to show off my best moves and he smiles back, but it’s forced.
Maybe it is fucked up I’m doing this to him, but I can’t bring myself to stop.
I continue to arrange a date for the man I
