Page 108 of (Not) The One
But I don’t.
At least I now realise Cameron didn’t break my heart. It definitely took a hammering but seeing him last week cemented my understanding. I no longer feel anything for him. Not love, nor hate, nor fear, nor shame. Sure, I’ve talked a big game, but when faced by him at the door of the restaurant, it all just fell into place. But boy did I relish the look onhisface after James was through with him. I don’t remember the last time someone stood up for me. I usually have to fight my own battles, so it felt good to hand this one over to him.
I doubt I’ll be getting anymore emails. But James’s texts? They’re more than welcome.
Ah, James. He’s a one off. A gentleman in the streets and a freak between the sheets.
‘What are you smiling at, miss lady?’
With a start, I look up into Olivia’s pretty face. She looks better lately. Healthier. Whatever virus she’d been suffering from, she’s definitely made a full recovery. I wonder if she’s been taking some kind of vitamin or supplement because she looks really bloody good.Maybe I should ask her for the brand.Plus, she’s back to making her own coffee, and I no longer feel like I have to feed her chocolate biscuits to keep her alive. It was stressful for a while. And a bit like looking after a human Tamagotchi.
‘I wasn’t smiling. I... have wind.’Really? That’s what you come up with, brain?
‘Pretty sure that only works with babies,’ she replies with a smirk. A smirk that I meet with a grimace.
Note to self: Google babies, smiling, and wind. Or maybe borrow one of those pregnancy books that James said he’s ordered from Amazon. He’s really taken to this fatherhood idea. But wind and smiling? That was a blast from the past, and the first thing that came into my head—something my grandmother used to remark if I smiled at all in her presence.You know, instead of crying. Really, it’s no wonder I cried rivers around the old cow. She was just so unpleasant.
But babies. Everywhere I look babies! Magazines. TV advertisements. The books lying on James’s coffee table. There was even one on his nightstand which I’d teased him mercilessly about as we’d undressed.Sometimes we just get into bed to sleep. It’s not always heightened passion and clothes ripped from limbs.
Though it mostly is.
Kinky, much?I’d teased, though secretly, I was thrilled. It’s just another sign of his commitment to our baby. Not that I’d said that at the time, instead going with,Is this a new fetish or something you’ve been keeping under wraps for some time?
My interest is in one particular pregnant woman, not pregnant women.I’d skimmed over the implication, telling myself it’s good that he’s interested in my wellbeing.
Pregnancy porn is a thing, you know,I’d found myself blundering on. I can hook you up with some good sites.
I don’t even want to know where you find that kind of thing.He’d slipped the shirt from his shoulders and thrown it in the direction of the laundry hamper before turning to the bathroom without even checking to see if it had made it.
It hadn’t.
From the other side of the bed, I’d tried to resist the pull.
I hate mess.
But I couldn’t leave it. So, in my underwear, I’d tip-toed across the bedroom floor, reluctant to let James know how cuckoo I was. Am. Also, who wants to be the woman who picks up after a man?
He has cleaners and a housekeeper, crazy pants,I’d told myself as I stuffed the navy blue Tom Ford number into the hamper.Meanwhile, you just have issues.
Miranda. At the sound of my name, I’d stilled.Can you come in here a moment?
What is it?I’d asked as I reached the bathroom door. He gestured me closer, and I could see there was something on his mind. He’d pulled me in front of him as we faced the vanity mirror. His body was warm behind mine and he smelled of toothpaste and the faint lingering scent of his cologne. His hands settled over the bump that only a few days ago seemed comfortably concealed in my jeans.
Nine weeks, he’d murmured.Nearly ten. A few more and we’ll share our news.
I’d nodded. This is the timeline we’d agreed. Twelve weeks seems to be the time ascribed as best for making the official announcement. So near yet so far. I don’t like to dwell on the fact that we’re not there yet or what would happenif.
No. Not going there. This baby is already so loved, even if everything else is up in the air, it’s just beyond contemplation.
But the twelve-week point falls on the week of the wedding, so we’ll wait until week thirteen to make it official. I’ll probably tell her on the Monday following the big event, especially as they’re going on honeymoon the week before. They’ve done everything else their own way, why would they wait to honeymoon after the wedding!
I’m going to tell my father this week.His eyes were so blue in the mirror and I’d wondered if our baby would inherit my colouring or his. A little girl like me or a little boy like him?
Do you want me to come withyouto break the news?
He’d chuckled softly and, pulling my hair from my face, pressed his lips to my cheek.I think I can take care of it. Though I do want you to meet him. When you’re ready. He’ll adore you.
I’d nodded and swallowed back happy tears at his words.
