And that baseball cap.
And that dog.
Unless baby brain is actually real, and I’m fully hallucinating, it’s the same guy I saw outside my office in Ballsbridge.
A prickle runs down my spine.
Dublin is small, sure. But notthatsmall.
Unless he’s from around here?
His head rests against the brickwork, the dog clutched in his arms like a soft toy. His eyes are closed as if he’s sleeping, but I don’t know… something about him being here feels… off.
Cole’s palm presses gently into the base of my spine, anchoring me back to the moment.
‘Zara?’ he murmurs. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I lie, blinking away the weird tension fizzing under my skin. ‘Thought I recognised someone, that’s all.’
He follows my line of sight for a second, but Gabriel is already ushering us forward, scanning the street one last time before nodding.
‘Clear,’ Gabriel says. ‘Head on in.’
If he’s not concerned, I shouldn’t be either.
Still, as we walk toward the clinic door, I glance back once more.
Cole’s hand finds mine, his thumb stroking reassurance into my palm. ‘Ready?’ he asks softly.
I nod, square my shoulders, lift my chin, and step forward. Because in about five minutes, I’m going to see my son’s face for the first time—and nothing—not my brothers, not the feud, and certainly not a homeless man with a dog—is going to ruin that moment. I pull my phone from my handbag and switch it off. The rest of the world can wait. This morning is about us—our baby. Our little family.
The second we step inside Dr Kensington’s clinic, we’re hit with the scent of an overpowering floral diffuser. You’d imagine the country’s best obstetrician would be sympathetic to her pregnant patients’ struggles with a painfully acute sense of smell, but apparently she’s not. I wrinkle my nose and blow out a deep breath.
Soft instrumental music floats from discreetly positionedspeakers. Cole glances around, taking in the original Georgian detail, the curved staircase, ornate ceiling roses, and the dark mahogany floors polished to a sheen.
The walls are painted in an offensive shade of green. Again—who decided green is relaxing? Pale sunshine yellow walls and a warm oak wood floor would be far more inviting.
‘This is… nice,’ Cole murmurs, low enough that only I hear him.
If by nice he meansthe exact aesthetic I’d die before replicating in one of my own projects,then yes. It’s spectacular.
My boyfriend’s fingers remain firmly on my back, guiding me as if he’s afraid I’ll bolt. Cute of him to assume I have the energy to run anywhere these days. Those days are long gone. Having him here with me, though, having anyone here with me at a prenatal appointment is totally surreal. He’s only been back in my life a few weeks, yet I can’t imagine doing this alone now.
The receptionist lifts her head the moment she spots me. ‘Miss Beckett.’ She greets me with a warm smile. ‘Doctor Kensington is just finishing with a patient and will call you through shortly. Please take a seat in the waiting room.’ She points to the open door on our left.
‘Thank you.’ I smile.
Gabriel double checks the waiting room before ushering us in. ‘You can wait outside with Tate.’ Cole dismisses him politely. Gabriel nods curtly and leaves us to it.
‘You ready to see our baby boy?’ he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. It’s still thick, luscious and glossy, but Scarlett warned me to make the most of that while it lasts—because apparently, it won’t be long.
‘Born ready.’ I flash him a smile as we take a seat on one of the oversized linen sofas. Cole sits so close our thighs touch, his hand resting protectively over my knee, thumb moving inslow circles that do absolutely nothing to steady my heart rate.
‘Are you ready?’ I ask.
‘I’ve never been more ready for any of this. I know neither of us planned this, but it just feels so… right.’ His huge blue eyes bore into mine.
‘I love you,’ I whisper.
