Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)

“How are you about all that now?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“Alright I guess. Still hurts, the way it all happened, you know? I could live with her leaving me a lot easier than I can knowing she’d been sleeping with someone then coming home to me. I thought she wanted to wait to have a baby because of her career, and that’s it. Guess shagging Brett put her off too.” He laughed, but it was bitter. “Then she went and got pregnant by the fucker. It’s like a double slap in the face.”

“I’m sorry.”

He snapped out of his mood and smiled at me.

“Doesn’t matter now. We’ve got this one on the way,” he said, covering my little bump with his hand. “And I couldn’t be happier about that. Plus my lawyer said the divorce should be finalised in the end of next month or so. I’ll be able to finally put it all behind me.”

“Good,” I replied, meaning putting everything behind him and because of the divorce. As soon as he had no more ties to her there would be no more talk that involved Abigail Dane, and hopefully he would start looking to the future. I wanted him to be happy and have nothing dragging him down.

“How are the therapy sessions going?”

He never liked talking about them; it was as if he was ashamed to admit he needed help. Everyone did at some point. I saw facing your problems as a strength rather than a weakness.

“Fine,” he replied.

“You can tell me about it if you want, you know.”

“No offence, Holly, but you’re the woman carrying my child. I don’t want to dump my crap on you when I’m the one that’s supposed to take care of you.”

But he wasn’t supposed to take care of me, just the baby. He was too hard on himself all the time, thinking he need to do more and be stronger.

“You do and you still can. You tell me to unload on you, so you can do the same.”

I rolled my eyes as he fought a smile, knowing he’d turned my words dirty.

“Thanks, Hol, you always know how to cheer me up.”

He was in need of cheering up?

“Talk to me. Please.”

He sighed. “It’s going well, I guess. She makes me look at things differently, and I’m starting to believe some of what she says. I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry.”

Well that gave me absolutely nothing to go on. Could he have been any more vague? He wasn’t going to give me anything else, so I let it go, hoping he’d open up properly when he was ready – if he ever would be.

“Alright,” I said as I took his plate with mine to wash up. “I’ll just sort out the flowers and then we can go. Oh I need to do my make-up properly first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re perfect as you are.”

That was probably a lie, but he made me feel beautiful enough to push my make-up bag aside. If anyone ran screaming though, I was never going to trust him again!

“Thank you,” I said.

“No need to thank me, just being honest.”

It wasn’t just the words that he said; it was how his words made me feel. He was the first person to really see me as a woman. Being the youngest in my family and the youngest amongst my friends meant I had always been treated as a child, people had gone out of their way to look after me just that little bit more. I appreciated that they cared, but I didn’t want to be Little Holly in my twenties.

Jasper took me shopping, spoiling our unborn baby with clothes and cuddly toys and spoiling me with lunch out, a movie and then dinner in the evening. When we got back to my empty flat, we laid on the sofa chatting about whatever popped into our heads. I realised that the last seven months had been the best of my life, and a lot of that was because of him.





Chapter Thirty-Three


Jasper




“Jasper!” Holly’s voice pierced through the bathroom door.

Something was wrong.

I leapt up out of my seat and sprinted to the door. She’d locked it. I banged my fist on the door. “Holly, what’s wrong? Open up!”

“My water just broke!” she shouted.

Shit! It was too soon. We had another three weeks to go. “What? Open the door and let me in!”

“I’ll be out in a second. Call the hospital.”

“What’s happening?” Mum said behind me.

I spun around, ripping my phone from my pocket.

“Holly’s water broke,” I said, dialling the hospital with shaking hands.

Thirty-seven weeks was when you were considered ‘safe’ but the baby was smaller than average already. I wanted her to stay inside her mum for as long as possible until we knew she’d definitely be safe.

“It’s too soon, Mum,” I said, willing them to pick the damn phone up.

“It’s going to be fine. The baby is old enough now.”

She stepped past me, leaning towards the door.

“Holly, sweetheart, are you okay?”

The midwife picked up and I spoke in a rush, stumbling over my words. Holly finally opened the door just as I was told to bring her straight in.

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