Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
I am keeping it.
After showering, I make myself a bedtime cup of tea. I don’t question the smile I have on my face as I clear up sweet wrappers from around the sofa. And I don’t second-guess my reasoning for loading Top Gun and snuggling down on the couch to watch it. My eyes wander from the television from time to time, falling to the floor and seeing me and Jack, a tangle of arms and legs, sweets and pillows. And I see a third person: a baby. Me, Jack and a little person – half of him and half of me. My hand falls to my stomach and circles absentmindedly. I’m going to have a little human to take care of within a year. Someone to rely and depend on me. Being a mum has never featured in my plans, maybe because I’ve never had any plans beyond my career. My life has been turned upside down and I asked for it all. Now I need to take charge. I know what I’m faced with, but with this baby growing inside me, I’m caring less about the reactions of the world and Stephanie, and more about being a good mum. I can do it. With Jack, I can do anything.
For the first time today, I see hope amid the ruins and I cling to it with all my might, lying back on the couch and sipping my tea. I get a text before I doze off.
From Jack.
I was always yours. Even when I didn’t know you. And you were always mine. It just took us a while to find each other. I love you x
I fall asleep with those words on loop in my mind.
I wake up feeling chilly, and the credits for Top Gun are rolling on the television. I groan, not wanting to move and take myself to bed, but too cold to stay where I am. I shiver and get up from the couch, flicking the TV off, grabbing my phone and pulling the blanket over my shoulders. Then I trudge to my bedroom sleepily.
I nearly make it to the God-glorious warmth of my bed, where the covers are calling to me, but a knock on the door stops me on the threshold to my room. I look down the hallway to my front door, wondering who it could be at this hour. I glance down at my phone. 10 p.m. Not so late at all.
I shrug the blanket off my shoulders, toss it on the bed and grab my grey hoodie from a chair, putting it on as I make my way to the front door. I decide and hope on my way that it must be Jack. The possibility injects some urgency into my legs and I pull the front door open, ready to throw myself at him and never let go.
But my face falls the moment I register my visitor.
‘Stephanie,’ I breathe shakily, desperately trying to stop my eyes from bugging in shock. Oh my God, what is she doing here? Shit, what do I do? She looks a wreck, her hair unwashed and pulled into a tatty ponytail, her face red and blotchy and her body huddled up, wrapped in a khaki fluffy-hooded coat. I release my hold on the door when it starts to tremble mildly from my movements.
I must appear as anxious as I’m feeling. She’s staring blankly at me, in a bit of a trance. This would be the point that any normal person would ask if she’s okay. But I know she’s not okay, and I’m not any normal person. I’m the woman her husband has left her for, and I need to get rid of her before my nerves begin to fray again and she figures it all out.
‘Stephanie?’ I prompt gently, forcing anything close to a friendly face.
‘I didn’t know who else to turn to,’ she croaks, her arms wrapped around her midriff protectively.
‘What?’ I startle myself with my abrupt tone, fighting to pull myself together. So she came here? To me?
She bursts into tears.
Oh fuck.
‘He’s left me,’ she sobs. ‘He’s gone!’
My insides tangle up. No part of me seems willing to give me a heads-up on what I should do. ‘Stephanie, I—’
She falls into my hallway, leaving me no choice but to move back, and thumps the wall. I definitely get a waft of liquor as she passes me. She’s been drinking. ‘He’s gone, Annie! He’s gone and left me all alone!’ She pulls away and faces my shocked form, her expression suddenly straight, her eyes round and wild. ‘But he needs me,’ she says evenly.
‘I’m so sorry, Stephanie.’ My mouth kicks into action, reminding me that I should be acting the sympathetic outsider. ‘I’m sure he’ll come back to you.’
‘Yes, he will,’ she sniffs, wiping at her nose. ‘He’s confused, that’s all.’