Toby remembered Nicole’s tear-streaked face as she told Edgar, over and over, that it was her fault that Tabby left. He remembered Noah standing dead-eyed in his foyer, talking about how he’d never be a dad.“She can’t blame herself,” he croaked. “Nicole, I mean. She and Noah are having a fucking terrible time.”
“They are, but it’s still a mess.” Scott’s expression became grave. “Again, I don’t want to frighten you, but you need the facts. No one knows what Tabby is thinking, but Nicole is terrified that she might do… something. About the baby. Because she feels so guilty for getting pregnant. Because she doesn’t think it’s fair.”
Toby’s internal plane entered deep turbulence, rolling up and back in the open air, death just a whisper away. He sat on the grass, palms pressed to the earth as his whole world tilted. He’d barely processed the idea of becoming a dad, let alone unbecoming a dad. “I don’t… I can’t…”
“I know, mate.” Scott knelt behind him, wrapping his arms around his chest. “I know it’s fucking huge. I can’t imagine how you feel.”
As Scott hugged him, Toby’s world continued to spin. If Tabby didn’t want their baby… but what if she did want their baby? Or didn’twanttowanttheir baby? What if she never wanted to come near him again because he’d put her in this position with his stupid fucking hyperactive sperm? What if she?—
“Hello, boys.”
They turned to see Edgar walking across the grass, his grey-brown hair glinting in the sun. He dropped to his knees on Toby’s left side and pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Whatever happens, you’ll manage it,” he said in a voice so sure Toby wanted to scream.
“You don’t… you can’t fuckin’ know that.”
“No,” Edgar said calmly. “But you do, don’t you, Toby?”
The question slid through and around every other thought in Toby’s overheated brain, penetrating deep. And the answer came just as deep and clear as though it had always been there.
Yes.
Yes, he could manage. He’d always managed. His parents. Mopsy. Cryptocurrency. Work. The only thing he’d ever really screwed up was his relationship with Tabby, and he wouldn’t do that again. He’d be honest even if it hurt, vulnerable even when it stung. He’d fight for Tabby’s future and his own, and if he was going to be a parent… well, he couldn’t possibly be worse than his mum and dad. He didn’t even own any gruesome Christian art. And he had money; enough to pay for anything Tabby and the baby might need. But he couldn’t think as though the kid was a foregone conclusion. It was Tabby’s decision. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved.
“I can manage,” he told Edgar. “I can do it.”
“Never in doubt.” Edgar stood, offering Toby a rough palm. “Up you get.”
Toby accepted the hand, and Edgar followed it up with a hug. Everyone said he was a great dad, but now Toby understood. His strength wasn’t in his support, but in how he showed you how to support yourself. He’d worried Edgar leaving for Bali was something like what his parents had done, fleeing for the Philippines without him, but it wasn’t that. Tabby’s dad had gone to make space for his kids, and now they needed him, he’d come back without question to lend his support.
“So,” Toby said, wiping his face. “What should we?—”
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he wrenched it out, praying it was Tabby. But Maisy’s name was flashing on the screen. Thinking that if something was wrong with Mopsy, he’d take an axe to Edgar’s wood sculptures, he answered. “Maisy, what’s up?”
“Hullo, dahling,” she said in a voice that meant she was definitely a few wines in. “Doggie’s fine, everything’s fine. I just thought you should know I’ve found your lovely Tabitha.”
Toby’s knees buckled. “Mais—what? Where are you?”
“Having tea at the Jackalope Hotel, dahling. Excellent scones. Very fresh cream, you know?”
“Maisy,” he growled. “Where’s Tabby?”
“Right here, dahling. She’s hilarious. I see why you’re so besotted with her. I haven’t laughed this much inyears.”
Scott grabbed Toby’s arm and almost yanked it out of the socket. “Tabby? You’ve found Tabby?”
He nodded frantically, and Scott bolted for the house, waving his arms like an inflatable balloon man. “Girls! Noah! We’ve found Tabby!”
“Wonderful,” Edgar said. “Fantastic.”
“Hang on.” Toby pressed his phone hard against his face. “You’re not fucking with me, are you, Mais? You’ve really got her? She’s with you?”
Maisy sighed. “Tabitha, you’ll have to give him proof of life yourself, dahling. He sounds as though he won’t believe me otherwise.”
There was a rustle, and then Tabby’s quiet but entirely real voice came through the phone. “Hey, Toberson.”
“Tabby!” he bellowed. “TABBY, I FUCKING LOVE YOU! COME HOME, I FUCKING LOVE YOU!”
A soft giggle. “Thanks, I, um, feel extremely… well, I feel a lot of things, but that is one of them.”
