Mum slumps as though the weight of the relief is too much for her. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” If I’d moved in with Leo before, when I arguablyshouldhave, my flat would have been rented out to someone else by now, and not available for Mum in her hour of need. This way is so much better.
“How much is the rent? I don’t have much…I’ll need a job…” She bites her lip.
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Leo cuts in firmly. “You’re covered.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you ownmyflat, too?”
“Nope,” he says easily, “but I have more than enough money to help out, and what better way to use it?”
I stare at him, astonished at the depths of this man’s generosity. Without any hesitation, he’s offered to support my mother, who barely said more than a handful of timid words to him before today. Just because she needs it.
And also, I know in my heart, to make me happy. To make my life easier by taking a big worry off my plate.
And Ialsoknow he’d have done this for me whether I was his girlfriend or not, whether I was carrying his child or not. If this had happened last year when I was still with Peter, he’d have stepped up then in just the same way and done whatever needed doing to keep Mum safely housed.
I have no idea what I did, in this life or a past one, to deserve this man’s ready and unconditional love. No idea whatsoever. But I am determined to make sure he never regrets giving it to me.
I just need to figure out the best way to do that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Leo
That teeny little swell of a bump she’s rocking is so fucking cute, I can hardly stand it.
I kiss it every morning, sometimes before Sadie even wakes. Sometimes it leads to kisses lower down, sleepy fingers stroking my hair, clutching it at the roots as the feeling builds… Increasingly urgent caresses, her legs tangling in my arms as I hold them open… And other times I just end up holding her while she finds her way out of sleep and into the land of the living. I live for the day when the baby starts kicking against my palm, letting me know they’re there.
I love them both so much. More than I ever thought possible.
This morning I saw her come out of the shower, all rude beauty dialled up to a thousand with the signs of her pregnancy. Her nipples are just a couple of shades darker. Her abdomen, obviously, is rounder in a way that makes me want to howl at the moon. She grinned and flipped me off as I openly stared at her, wishing I could trade places with the rivulets of water running down her body because I’m the most ridiculous lovesick fool,and I honestly don’t know how much more my heart can expand. But each and every day it proves it can grow just a little more, just for her and our little bean.
Her pregnancy hormones have kicked in like Lionel Messi, and I secretly love how emotional she’s been lately. It’s like she’s my old firebrand Sadie with an adorably weepy edge. Her mood swings have veered more towards happy tears than grumpiness, and, coupled with her increased need to nap during the day, she’s become my fuzzy, soft little snuggleduck, either sleeping or crying on my shoulder. And I’m the happiest sap in the world.
Take the past couple of days, for example. Her mother has been staying in Sadie’s soon-to-be former flat while Sadie sleeps at mine, but the three of us have spent the last two nights all together since Mrs Stewart left her dipshit husband. The two of them are reconnecting so wonderfully well, but it’s turned Sadie into even more of a watering pot. Mrs S hugs Sadie: tears. The two of them cook a family favourite casserole together: tears, both during cooking and eating. Mrs S and I chat companionably about happier things than the end of her marriage, making friends and getting on like a house on fire: more tears from our girl. And the flood of sobbing while we watched DVDs of some of her mother’s favourite Gordon McRae musicals was truly epic to behold. I never imagined I’d see Sadie cry overOh What A Beautiful Morning, but she’ll never do anything except surprise me, it seems.
Apparently, Mrs Stewart was just as enslaved to her tear ducts when she was pregnant with Sadie and Tim.
Speaking of Tim, he and Jacob regularly check in, both by phone and in person, and have reassured their mother that they’re there for her anytime. They seem just as relieved as Sadie that their parents’ marriage is over, and I can’t imagine George Stewart is receiving the same visits from the children he bullied for so long. But it seems to be understood, though unsaid, thatthis is a time forSadieto reconnect with her mother, first and foremost. They need each other right now. Her brothers seem happy to wait their turn.
I’m just a third wheel, a prop, a place for Sadie to rest her snotted up face, but I’m perfectly happy to serve that purpose, as long as I keep seeing the joy and relief shimmering behind the tears in Sadie’s eyes. I know she’s been worried about her mother, felt hurt that she didn’t stand up for her when her dad gave her both barrels, and concerned about what would come next. But it’s all made easier by their bonding over the process of this pregnancy. Something positive for them both to concentrate on while the dust of their lives settles down again. As tough and bulletproof as Sadie tries to be, she’s marshmallow inside. I’ve always loved that about her, and both her mother and our baby have really brought that side of her out.
I even love her stubbornness, though it’s driving me bugnuts crazy right now as she tries to take part in loading her boxes into mine and Liaden’s cars. “Will you stop fucking heavy lifting, preggo,” I explode, pulling yet another plastic case out of her grasp. It’s moving day, and she’s giving me grey hairs with everything she’s trying to pitch in with.
“But I’mfine- ”
“Agreed, you’reseriouslydamn fine, but if you think I’m gonna let you haul these boxes around, you’re cuckoo bananas.”
She glares at me angrily. “I’m not going to just sit around while the rest of you - ”
“That’s precisely what you’re going to do,” Liaden says in her scolding lecturer voice. With her playful sunflower print Run & Fly dungarees and pink top knot, you’d never imagine she could command an entire lecture theatre of rowdy students, but I sure as shit wouldn’t hand my homework in late if I heard that tone levelled at me.
“Seriously, Sades, we got this,” Eli agrees, shutting the trunk of my Audi.
She scowls at them both.
“Listen,” I murmur, “Gary’s discombobulated. Chill out with him, keep him calm, and keep your mum’s lemonade on tap for us all. That’s your contribution.”
