Page 132 of Tears of Gold

My cheeks burn like I’m under a thousand suns.

“I’d like to thank the Faircloughs, especially Baroness Fairclough for her endless support, and Channel 4 for making this happen. Thank you for coming, enjoy the party.”

There’s loud applause but I can’t see a damn thing. The room is spinning too fast. Then his hands are on my arms, anchoring me down, the blues finding me in the darkness.

“My sunshine.” His lips press against my forehead.

I wrap my arms tight around him uncaring of who sees.

“You make every fight worthwhile.” I kiss him, hoping he can feel my promise in the movement of my lips.

Thirty

“I can’t believe my fiancée is going to be a TV star.”

I groan and throw one of my toast crusts at him. He looks beautiful in his navy suit. His tie matches his eyes and he’s lucky I’m on a tight schedule otherwise I’d be pulling him back up to the bedroom.

“Hey.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t waste food, my baby needs that.”

I grin, and it’s stupid and wide but I just don’t care. Leaning back on my chair in the kitchen I place my hand over the bump. “Sweetheart, this kid has had enough food. Look how big this is.” Chuckling I rub at the beautiful round bump that precedes me everywhere I go. Always on show and never hidden under baggy clothes, I love the way it makes me feel. Like I’m complete for the first time. That I’m someone. And not just an artist, a tattoo artist, or someone about to shoot a TV show. But rather something more. A mother. Me.

“It’s beautiful, just like you.”

I watch my hands circle. The left is okay although my knuckles are little swollen. The right is worse. My pinky finger never recovered, but I can still hold a pencil and a paintbrush. However, I find things like ceramics, glass, and working with clay harder.

I’m still retraining myself though. It’s why I’ve let Angela hire a co-star. I’ve got other things to worry about anyway. It’s not all about me and what I can create anymore. H.U.G. has taken off. The press has picked up on it, helped by the fact the Faircloughs have backed the charity, along with my press exposure from the run up to the TV show, especially my interview with Vogue.

The fact I’ve been able to openly talk about my past is a plus. Ironic that I have Aiden to thank for that. If he hadn’t been arrested for assault that night, all those weeks ago, I would have been gagged and unable to talk about what happened to me. But because his initial arrest was for recent violations and not the historic, I’ve had more freedom than I would have ever guessed. He’s already in jail, guilty of the attempted manslaughter of an unborn child and grievous bodily harm against me. In three weeks, he will be in court again; this time for historic child abuse and four counts of rape.

He will never walk the streets again. Every time I do and the February air nips at my cheeks or I pause to look in a shop window and see a reflection of myself, seeing only my bump and not the ink on my skin, I’m grateful that I am free.

Free of the past. Free of the pain. Free of him.

“Miss Beesley is going to get dinner ready for later, so you don’t need to worry.” Eli picks up the paperwork he’s been reading over breakfast. “And Laura has organised your cars to and from the studio.”

“Yay for being organised,” I say sarcastically, but he just waves his hand at me.

“Don’t forget I’ll be home a little late. I want to spend go over the files with Reggie again.”

“You’ve been over them a million times.”

“Once more won’t hurt.”

“Okay. Don’t forget Jeremy is bring around his new 'friend' at the weekend, and that you’ve promised me you are going to be nice.” Eli pulls a face. “Remember we are being supportive and caring as he works through his grief.”

“Yes, yes.” He bends down and drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Set them on fire, Faith.”

“I’ll burn the place down.” I roll my eyes and wait for him to leave. Once the front door is closed, I grab my phone and dial Abi. “Quick, I’ve got a car coming, tell me all!” I almost screech not even bothering with basics like hellos.

“Hi, Miss Superstar, nice to hear from you. I’m fine by the way.”

“Abi, don’t even joke. Tell me what you saw.”

“Dan.” She raises her eyebrows until they are almost in her hairline.

“AND?” I scream.

“And… bloody hell, Faith, he was with that Sienna woman.”