It swings open, a grinning Stana looking at me, Rosie’s bag already packed in the corner.
“You knew?” I say.
Stana pushes her dark hair over her shoulder, eyes latched onto my own. “Honestly, we thought you two would have been here a lot earlier. I’m impressed.”
I laugh, pulling her in for a hug before entering the room, finding Em playing with my little girl on the floor.
“Hi, my baby, did you miss me?” I coo as I sit down, then give Em a quick hug before picking up Rosie, giving each of her squishy cheeks a big kiss.
I feel Owen crouch down next to me, her little hands reaching out for him.
“Ugh, gals, I’m sorry for wasting your night,” I say, turning to them both. Neither seems upset, both wearing matching smiles.
“Are you kidding? We got a whole day with Rosie to ourselves, plus now we can have a girl’s night in a hotel room. We should be thanking you,” Em says, to which Stana nods.
“Can’t complain over that quality one-on-one time,” Stana adds in.
“Thank you,” I say, standing to collect Rosie’s bag and mat.
“Ready?” Owen asks me, Rosie happily holding onto him. I lace our hands as we exit, repeating my thanks and goodbyes one more time as we go.
When we’re back in the room, Rosie sits between us as Owen puts on Paddington Bear. Rosie giggles like she always does, her curls bouncing up and down with her excitement.
“Really is the perfect ending to the day,” Owen whispers to me, his hand on my shoulder rubbing up and down.
The perfect day it was.
September
After Owen’s birthday, the days blurred into months. I’d just started back at work, Evie looking after Rosie two days a week. It still didn’t sit right with me that her only days off she was dedicating to my little girl, but Evie wouldn’t hear a word about it. So, every day for the past two weeks Evie’s at my place at nine a.m., ready and waiting to take Rosie for the day.
I worried at first Evie wouldn’t get anything done during her day, but I quickly learned that Evie and Rosie are a little dynamic duo. Turns out Rosie loves Evie as much as she loves Evie’s son.
As the days went by, soon Rosie was reaching six months old and it was clear my flat wasn’t going to cut it anymore. So began the search for a new place.
Despite Owen and I never being closer and him sleeping over most nights, I still wasn’t ready for him to take the lunge and move in. Yet of course, Owen being Owen, he took me to every flat viewing, leading us to where we are today.
“This feels hopeless.” I groan as we leave the fifth flat of the day, nothing matching what Rosie and I need.
Owen’s hands come to rest upon my shoulders. “I know it’s frustrating, but we will find a place.”
“Am I making a mistake? Is this the wrong time to be moving? I mean, Rosie is still so little and who knows if all this change is good for her.”
Owen stops rubbing my shoulders and turns me around on the spot to face him.
“Babe, Rosie’s a baby. She won’t notice the change. You, on the other hand, will. You’re in a one-bedroom flat and Rosie is growing by the day. It won’t work like that forever; eventually you’re going to need your own space.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. All the baby books say by six months she can be in her own room, and we’re past that, so if not now, when?
“I think I’m just stressing. With going back to work and leaving her, it just feels like a lot of change.” I lean into him, nuzzling his neck.
“I know, but you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to help you. I’m here to help you.”
“I know,” I whisper, sometimes wishing we could stay in this little bubble together forever.
“Let’s make this new showing our last one, then get home to little Rosie, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree. We hop into the car and head back to Notting Hill, hoping this final flat we view might actually be the one.
The trip back to Notting Hill takes forever, traffic an absolute nightmare, and I wish we’d taken the Tube. Just another reminder I don’t want to leave our little bubble. Owen interlocks our fingers as we walk up to the last showing of the day, one other couple standing out front together, clearly interested.
A woman in a tight black suit comes out, her stilettos drumming the ground with every step.
“Everyone ready to go in?” she asks.
After a few nods we follow her inside, my heart melting on the spot. A white kitchen sits off to the side with an open floor plan, looking into the living room on the right. Big windows line the back wall, flooding the room with light, something I’ve missed having for the past four years.
The woman is showing us around, but my feet take off on their own expedition, finding two bedrooms down a small hallway, one to the right and one to the left. The master isn’t huge, but what do I expect. It’s got built-ins and two windows while the other bedroom is slightly smaller, no closet space, but still good lighting. It would be perfect for Rosie.
The one bathroom sits off to the left of the master bedroom, a shower-bath combination and white tile, and even the lack of windows can’t bring me down.
“So, what do you think?”
I yelp, startled at Owen’s voice behind me.
I turn, then walk over to wrap my arms around him. “Honestly, it’s perfect. It reminds me of my place now, just a shit-ton lighter and with an extra bedroom. Sure, the flat isn’t massive, but if I’m going to be picky by staying near work and Notting Hill, I don’t think
