“What if you wake up in the middle of the night and you’re bleeding? You won’t be able to drive. I’ll have to get to you to get you to hospital, because an ambulance is going to be too slow.” I knew there would be no comeback from that. Amber didn’t have close friends living nearby to help if there was an emergency.
She looked up at me, spoon in hand, and I did wonder whether she was going to lob it at my head.
“The girls. Libbie.”
I knew where she was coming from. Zara would love Amber living here. Libbie would find it difficult.
“Us.”
That surprised me. “What do you mean, ‘us’?”
“Me and you. We’re all shades of grey, aren’t we? Having a baby, but not in a relationship. Friends who touch each other in ways that just friends wouldn’t.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m confused.”
I didn’t know that I was anymore. “How about I put it this way: I would feel better if you were living here for now. Until the baby is six months or so. If there’s an emergency, either me or Jerrica are around. You don’t need to worry about cooking, or cleaning and there’s enough space that we don’t need to be on top of each other. Sell your house, bank the cash, and then there’s no stress of being in a chain. When our son’s born, you have me and the nanny to help, so you aren’t run ragged with losing all sleep. He gets both of us around to start with too, which makes me able to help share the parenting.”
I waited for a couple of minutes, her silence overtaking everything else in the room.
“Amber, I want more than to be just friends. I can see myself falling in love with you if you’d let me.” There it was. The thing I’d been debating saying for the last four weeks.
She put down her spoon. “Why? I’m hardly WAG material.”
“Depends on what you think WAG material is. Are you the sort of woman who wants to be in all the glossy magazines doing tours of your home or being at restaurant and club openings? I think not. But most wives and girlfriends of footballers aren’t.” I paused. “I don’t want to be with someone like that either. I like you, Amber. I like your strength, how you rule your treatment room and how you quietly get on with everything else. I like the way you are with my daughters and my sister, and how loyal you are with your friends. I like how you haven’t ever demanded anything from me or expected anything. You’re independent and tough, and I hope my girls grow up to be like you.” I picked up another sandwich and bit into it, focusing on how the food now tasted like cardboard because my adrenaline had whipped through the roof again.
Amber opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. “I’m not used to people wanting me.”
I shook my head. “That’s because you’ve had a bad experience or two, so now you don’t let anyone get close because you’re scared of it happening again. I don’t need to be a psychologist to know that.” Although I was thinking of doing a degree in sports psychology when I finally retired from playing football. “This baby’s going to want you. He wants you already and he needs you.” I didn’t add the last part of that sentence. I knew that she already understood that he needed her to be as healthy and fit as she could be. There was no point guilt tripping her into making a decision to live here.
“I know.” Her eyes welled up. “I can’t believe it’s a boy. I mean, I can, because it was one or the other, but knowing – it all seems even more real.” She picked up the tea and sipped it. “I’ll think about what you said.”
“Okay.” I’d said my bit, now it was up to her to make a decision. She tried to hide a yawn. “Need a nap?”
Amber blinked slowly a couple of times and then nodded. “You’re sofa’s looking comfier by the minute. Can I grab forty minutes after I’ve finished eating?”
“Sure. I promised Coach I’d get some reps in this afternoon.” I had a gym in the basement which was one of the main reasons I’d bought this house. It had belonged to a footballer who’d played for Liverpool for a few years. He’d moved back home after retiring and hadn’t wanted to keep this place on. Apart from decorating, nothing had needed adding, which was a bonus. Security was also on point, which was one less hassle.
“Don’t go too heavy on lat pull downs. You were holding your shoulder slightly off in training yesterday. I meant to say.” She suddenly looked exhausted.
“Understood.” I picked her empty soup bowl up and moved it over to the dishwasher. “You look shattered.”
“It’s the same about this time every day. I’m exhausted. In a couple of hours, I’ll be fine again.” She stood up, sliding off the stool carefully, affording me a glance of her rounding belly and those boobs which I thought about most evenings in the shower.
“You have about three hours until the girls get home. Maybe four. Make the most of the peace.”
She wandered over to the lounge area in the kitchen. It was all open plan, which I liked. Plenty of room for entertaining, or for my girls to entertain when they were older and for me to keep an eye on things.
“Or you can snooze in the guest suite.” That was at the other side of the house, where it was quieter, without the footfall of daughters, or my sister’s loud enthusiasm.
“I’m good here.” She was practically asleep on her feet. “Wake me before they get home.”
I heard my girls before I saw them, giggles and laughter in the entrance hall, my sister’s voice bubbling over the top.
Amber had woken already and had taken a shower, changing into her gym clothes which were in the back of her car. She’d driven to mine this morning so we could go to the appointment together.
The gym clothes did nothing to hide her bump, the bump that Libbie had already been staring at a couple of times. Her friend’s mum was also pregnant, so I figured we were approaching the point where Libs would put two and two together. That would make things easier for us if Libs asked first.
It was clearly coming. Libbie saw Amber as soon as she walked through the door, heading straight over to her to show her a certificate she’d got from school, one for being kind. She’d gotten used to seeing Amber more in the last week or two, probably because Amber didn’t try to force anything with her. Amber would make conversation, but didn’t push it, and Libs had slowly started initiating interaction between them herself.
Zara was still like an over-keen puppy.
