I stand at the bottom of the stairs in my parents’ house, adjusting the cuff of my shirt for what feels like the tenth time, trying to ignore the way my shoulders feel tight under the jacket.
“Daddy?”
I glance up. Isla is standing halfway down the stairs, gripping the bannister, staring at me like I’ve just walked in wearing a crown. Her face lights up.
“Daddy… you lookso handsome.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “Do I?”
“Yes,” she nods seriously, stepping down the rest of the stairs. “Like… like a prince.”
“A prince?”
“Yeah. But a rugby prince.”
“Ah,” I nod. “Very important distinction.”
She reaches me and immediately wraps her arms around my waist. I pull her up into a tight hug, pressing a kiss into her hair.
“I’m gonna miss you, bug,” I murmur.
She squeezes me tighter. “I’ll miss you too.”
“You be good for Nanna and Pops, yeah?”
“Ialwaysam,” she lies.
I pull back, raising an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
She grins. “Mostly.”
“Mostly is acceptable.”
My mum appears in the doorway, watching us with a soft smile. “You look lovely,” she says.
“Thanks.”
My dad nods from his chair. “Try not to punch anyone.”
“No promises.”
Isla giggles. I set her down and crouch in front of her. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And we’ll get pancakes.”
Her eyes light up. “Chocolate chip?”
“Obviously.”
“Deal.”
She leans forward and kisses my cheek. And just like that, I don’t want to go.
The drive into the city feels longer than usual. The roads get busier, the buildings taller, the air somehow heavier the closer I get. I rest one hand on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against it as my thoughts drift. I really don’t want to be doing this. Rugby? I love it. The training, the matches, the lads. That’s real. But this part? The suits. The events. The forced smiles and endless small talk. I hate it. And tonight is going to be worse. Because I know who’s going to be there. Sienna. I exhale slowly, tightening my grip on the wheel. I don’t see her often. She made that choice herself. She stepped away from Isla, from everything, a long time ago. But tonight? I won’t be able to avoid her. And I already know how it’ll go. Polite smiles. Awkward small talk.Pretending like we weren’t once plastered all over magazines as some perfect couple.
That life feels like it belonged to someone else. The apartment in the city. All glass and marble and no actual warmth. The parties. The constant cameras. Holding her hand like it meant something when half the time it didn’t. I shake my head slightly. I don’t even recognise that version of me anymore. Not now. Not when I know what real feels like. Not when I know what it feels like to sit on a sofa in Oakwood with Freya, eating takeaway and laughing about nothing. That’s real. That’s what I want.
