“Well. I reckon I shagged our girl the most,” Fraser says cheerfully. A Hula Hoop enters my trachea.
“And how do you figure that?” Alec wonders.
Fraser pats me on the back as I fight for air. “Well, the two of us had some extra-curriculars, didn’t we, baby? There was that night after Isla and Em’s party where you attacked me when we got home. And a few weeks ago, when the rain came down while we were in the fields. We waited it out in the hay barn, andyou were wearing this wee white lace dress that went all see-through…”
“Aye,” Alec says thoughtfully. “I remember. She still had hay in her hair when she came to see me.” He flicks on the windscreen wipers. “You know, you really didn’t have to rip her thong like that. It was one of my favourites. Makes her behind look lovely.”
Fraser gapes at me.
“You went back to work!” I say defensively. “And he had his sleeves rolled up.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Alec advises, as Fraser immediately fumbles with his own sleeves. “If any one of us was enough for her, she wouldn’t need all three, would she?”
“Besides,” I add. “Obviously it’s not a competition. But if itwere…” I glance at the back of Cameron’s head. “I think Cameron would edge you both out.”
Fraser is incensed. “What?When?How dare he?”
“Um, remember that day when he helped me with my product try-ons? He wasveryhelpful getting me in and out of the outfits.”
Fraser’s mouth falls open. “Do you need a new assistant?” he demands. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be the best you ever had. Alec, I’m tendering my resignation effective immediately. A more important opportunity has come up, and I simply can’t refuse.”
“Bye then,” Alec says drily.
I laugh and stuff a Hula Hoop into Fraser’s mouth, then cuddle up against his side as we keep driving. As the sun peeks out overhead, a rainbow draws itself across the sky.
It’s just turned early evening when we park outside our holiday cabin. Relief washes over me as I step out onto the rocks, stretching my legs. If I thought Lochview was peaceful, Skye isanother world entirely—a secluded Scottish island just a bit off the mainland. Lots of the roads here are only wide enough for one car, and the local village only has one pub and a couple of shops. There’s barely any noise or light pollution. The cabin we bought is built right on the shore, and when the tide is in, the waves lap right up to the little garden. At night, the stars twinkle so brightly they reflect off the sea.
The men start emptying the boot. I consider offering to help them, but I think I have something more important to do. Namely, areallyhigh-stakes wee.
I grab my wash bag. “I’m just going to take a shower,” I say. The men nod, and for once, no one offers to come with me.
The interior of the Skye cabin always reminds me of a wooden ship. The walls are made of honey-brown planks, and the decor is cosy and nautical. I pass framed ocean watercolours and glimmering sea glass ornaments as I trek towards the bathroom. Inside, I regard myself in the seashell-framed mirror.
I look different than I did six years ago. My face and hips are fuller. I’ve stopped hiding my freckles with makeup, and I now wear my hair in natural puffy waves about as often as I style it. I stand taller too, like I’m more comfortable taking up space.
I am. It turns out, it’s a lot easier to be confident in your own skin when you’re not constantly getting “well-meaning” comments suggesting you get Botox and Invisalign and liposuction.
I grimace. Sometimes, the three years I spent fully immersed in influencer culture feel like a dream. It was such an intense, mean world. I’m impressed the younger version of me survived it. I feel bad that she felt like she had to.
Things are so much better now. I genuinely like who I am, and I’m surrounded by people who love me no matter what. I can just…be, and it’s good enough.
My eyes flick to my wash bag resting on the side of the sink. The end of a pregnancy test is sticking out of the unzipped corner. I flip up the loo seat.
Forty minutes later, I step out onto the decking in my Percy Pig pyjamas. The sun has dipped lower, shooting red and gold sunbeams across the hills. Alec and Fraser are both setting up the outdoor furniture, but they stop when they see me.
Fraser straightens. “You took the test.” It’s not a question.
I nod, nerves squirming in my stomach. “You guys were right. It was positive.”
I haven’t even finished the word before he’s spinning me around. “Oh my God, baby! I can’t believe it! Alec’s gonna be a real dad, not just a sheep dad! I’ll be the cool dad. Shit, Cameron’s going to be the cutest dad ever, I bet he’ll make the kid packed lunches for school and put wee notes in their lunchbox and insist on slicing all their grapes in half and—” He sets me down, cupping my face. His voice gets choked. “Oh, baby, you’re gonna be amum.”
“Yes. Oh God.” I hope I’m a good one. I’m still barely on speaking terms with my own mother. Last Christmas was the first time we’ve spoken in forever, and we were both nervous, tiptoeing around each other. She texts me sometimes, and she sent me flowers for my birthday. I think she wants to reconnect again, but I don’t trust her. She’ll have to work hard to convince me she’s changed.
Over the years, I’ve come to realise that she never meant to hurt me when she was so harsh on me. She genuinely thought I’d do best in life if I completely smothered parts of myself. But I’m still angry. I want so much better for my baby.
“Fraser, let me,” Alec orders. Fraser reluctantly passes me over, and Alec pulls me into his arms. He’s breathing hard. “You feel okay?” he asks me gently.
“I feel great.”
