I should have paid more attention to the fact she wasn’t particularly interested in being pregnant, beyond the shopping and the pregnancy clothes she could model on Instagram all day. That the only affection she ever showed me was when it was benefiting a post.
Because Sienna refused to move to Valentine Nook, my time was split between Oxfordshire and London, driving the two hours back and forth. Exhaustion didn’t take long to set in, especially on the days I had to be at the practice or had a full day of school.
I hired a nanny to help us both. Me, so I could continue studying for my veterinary exams, and for Sienna so she didn’t feel too overwhelmed. I’d come home desperate to see my son, and Sienna would be desperate to go out to the newest club or bar, using my name to get in.
But it wasn’t enough.
The final straw was her shipping Max and the nanny off to Burlington when he was nine months old so that she could go to Ibiza for a week.
The custody solicitors had drafted up terms by thetime she returned home.
Miles comforted me while I sobbed long into the night after a grueling day of school and taking care of Max while he battled through teething or his first cold, wondering how I would do this alone. He was next to me as I read through the latest round of demands from Sienna’s solicitors—a bunch of cut-throat city guys who sniffed out big money from a hundred yards away.
In the end, I gave her whatever she wanted, as long as I had Max full-time, no contest. She got a flat in central London, a monthly stipend, and a settlement figure.
For the first year, I didn’t hear a word from her. She never checked in, didn’t wish Max a happy birthday, no presents, nothing.
When Max was eighteen months old, she called to ask for a larger monthly allowance. When I said no, she threatened to take Max, knowing full well the law favors mothers in any custody situation. So we drafted new terms, and she got more.
It’s become a pattern, one I’ve unwittingly allowed because she knows that she has me between a rock and a hard place. I can afford whatever settlement she wants, and she knows I’ll pay it to keep Max. Since I’ve had full custody, and she’s seen him a handful of times during supervised visits.
It’s what keeps my stress levels running higher than my doctor would like because I never know when the call will come. I just know it’ll happen at some point.
Miles is still looking at me, and I suddenly want to forget everything. Forget my life. Forget the mess I’m in. Between Sienna and Story, blowing off some steam is exactly what I need.
“You know what, I’m in. If we leave after I put Max to bed, then I’ll only miss breakfast and drop-off tomorrow.”
“Done. Let’s go to Five Hertford Street, that pretty server works there on a Monday and I still haven’t persuaded her to sleep with me.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine by me.”
He pulls his phone out. “I’ll get our table reserved.”
“Cool.” As I slip mine back in my pocket, the phone lights up with the missed call and Sienna’s name. “God, I fucking hate her.”
“Hate who?”
Miles’s and my heads snap up at the sound of the voice. We find Alex walking toward us with his baby daughter strapped to his chest. He only found out a couple of months ago that he was a father to a six-week-old, and he came around to the idea of being a father much quicker and more adeptly than I did.
It probably helped that he was already desperately in love with her mother having met her the year before in Aspen, where we’d gone to escape the chaos of Lando’s almost-wedding.
When Haven turned up with Everly, Alex jumped into action, and now it’s almost impossible to imagine a time when he wasn’t a father. Even without confirmation, I know he was responsible for dressing her in that polar bear snowsuit because he loves it. It must run in the family because I was the same.
Before Max was old enough to choose his own clothes obviously. Now if I suggest something for him to wear, he argues against it on principle. Thank God he has to wear a school uniform because otherwise he’d wear his Spider-Man costume seventy-five percent ofthe time.
“Hey, Al. What are you doing here?” Miles says.
“Can’t I pop over to my youngest brother’s yard to show my daughter his polo ponies?”
“No argument from me. I’m all for starting them young.”
“Where’s Haven?” I pull Alex into a hug, while taking care not to crush Everly. I drop a kiss on her head instead.
“She’s not feeling too good.”
Miles, being Miles, immediately pulls the neck of his jumper up to cover his mouth. “What’s she sick with? I can’t get sick, Al. I have a tournament next weekend, and Chester’s just been given the sign-off.”
“Milo, I saidlight exercise.”
