by Amy Daws
Sophia smiles shyly and tucks behind me a bit as Belle jogs up to the car where Indie is sitting in the backseat.
“I want to go with them, Mum,” Sophia states, pointing to the cars as they pull away.
Finally, Gareth comes out of the house with his phone attached to his ear. His eyes find mine and a look of genuine surprise flits across his face. “I was just trying to call you.”
“We’re here,” I reply helplessly as the madness begins to settle. Our timing does not seem ideal.
“We’re on our way to the hospital,” Gareth states, then moves in to ruffle Sophia’s hair. “Hiya, Minnow.”
“Hiya,” Sophia chirps with a pleased smile on her face. I think it’s safe to say she likes her new nickname.
I gesture back toward the gate and say, “Should I have that car you sent take us back to the train station, or do you need it?”
Gareth’s face furrows in confusion. “Why would you go back to the train station? Did you forget something?”
“No. This just seems like a family thing,” I reply, eyeing Vaughn as he walks out of the house and turns to lock the door.
“Sloan”—he moves in close to drop a kiss on my cheek—“you and Minnow are my family. Come on, let’s go see my baby brother have a baby.”
The butterflies in my belly are unrelenting as Gareth picks Sophia up to carry her back to the car. She squeals with delight and wraps her hands around his neck.
“Minnow!” Vaughn’s voice shouts from behind us, and Sophia looks over Gareth’s shoulder in response. With a smile, Vaughn says, “Welcome to Harris Sunday dinners!”
She smiles back. Then, like a crazy natural disaster, we follow the loads of people on their way to welcoming another Harris into the world.
“It’s bloody twins!” Booker croaks as he bursts through the double doors of the waiting room.
“What?” everyone replies in unison, jumping out of their seats.
Booker runs a hand through his hair, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “I don’t know what happened, but somehow the second baby didn’t show up on the scans. Now I have two sons!”
“Oh my God!” Vi exclaims, grabbing onto Hayden’s arm with an excited death grip. “How is that even possible?”
Everyone’s eyes swerve to Belle and Indie—the two doctors in the group—for an answer, but Booker replies, “The doctor said it’s more common than people think. It’s quite fitting because we were rowing over names and now we get to use both. Oliver and Teddy are amazing. I can’t wait for you guys to meet them. Poppy needs a few minutes because she is beside herself.”
“I’m sure she is,” Vaughn replies with a shake of his head, then pulls Booker into a big hug.
“Oh, and we’re engaged,” Booker adds as he pulls away with an adorably sheepish expression on his face.
Vi looks like she’s going to faint.
“Are you bloody joking?” Camden exclaims, grabbing his brother around the shoulder and mock punching him in the gut.
Booker’s face turns red as he replies, “No. I asked her to marry me when she was holding our babies. I had the ring and planned to do it tonight at home, outside our playhouse in the woods, but we never made it there. So I figured, what the hell. A hospital is as good of a place as any.”
“Yes, it is!” Vi squeals and jumps into Booker’s arms for a hug. “Congratulations! Oliver and Teddy have the best parents!”
“Thanks, Vi,” Booker replies, then looks over at Gareth for his usual nod of approval.
Gareth silently obliges, his prideful smile saying so much more than words ever could.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sophia chasing Rocky down the empty hallway, their giggles echoing in my ears. As everyone moves in to hug Booker, Gareth’s hand suddenly squeezes mine tightly.
I look over at his affectionate expression with tears in my eyes and an enormous smile on my face. I suppose this is what a real family feels like.
I could get used to this.
“I’M GOING WITH YOU, SLOAN,” Gareth states, his eyes hard and unrelenting on mine as he stands on the opposite side of my kitchen with a dish towel slung over his shoulder.
“Gareth, this is Sophia’s grandmother’s funeral. She’s a Coleridge. And the service will be attended by all of Manchester and London high society. People would definitely recognise you.”
“I don’t give a toss.” He flings the towel into the sink and crosses his muscled arms over his chest.
“We agreed to keep our relationship quiet until after the World Cup. You and your brothers have been front-page news for two weeks straight now.”
“None of that matters anymore,” he growls and leans back against the counter. “This is different, Sloan. This is real life. I’m not going to let you and Sophia go through this alone.”
I inhale deeply and pin Gareth with a look. “I’ve gone through a hell of a lot worse with Sophia on my own. I can handle it.”
“I know you can but I can’t!” he exclaims, the veins in his neck protruding angrily. “Don’t you understand, Sloan? It will kill me to not be there beside you. For comfort, for friendship, for someone to lean on and look to. I don’t want you to handle it alone!”
Suddenly, Sophia is standing between us, her arms outstretched like she has to hold us apart. “Gareth is coming, Mummy.”
I stare down at her and shake my head. “Sophia, I told you to go up to your room.”
“No, I don’t want you guys to fight,” she retorts.
“We’re not fighting,” I reply and cut Gareth a look. “We’re having a disagreement.”
“It doesn’t matter. I said Gareth can come and so did Grandmama,” Sophia states, turning to face me with her hands on her hips like a tiny little Wonder Woman.
“When did your grandma say that?” I ask, looking down at Sophia, who still has not cried a single tear since I told her the news of Margaret’s passing.
“She said it to me the last time I saw her,” Sophia answers, a dark expression fleeting across her face as a memory clearly falls down over her.
“What else did she say to you, Sophia?” I ask, kneeling down to look into my daughter’s eyes.
Sophia takes a big breath and replies, “We said goodbye. That’s all. But, Mummy, please don’t be cross at Gareth. I don’t want to lose him, too.”
I look up at Gareth, whose hard eyes have instantly softened.
He drops down to his knees on the other side of Sophia and gives her hair a ruffle. “I’m not going anywhere, Little Minnow. You’re stuck with me for a long, long time.”
A sense of anxiety works its way up in my chest. I’m not the only one in this relationship with Gareth. Not by a long shot.
At the church, Sophia sits with Callum and Callie in the front pew. Her brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. Her black dress with a white collar, perfect and pristine, the way Margaret would have liked. I never realised how hard it would be to watch Sophia be a part of the Coleridge family without me. To witness her interacting with her father and his fiancée through an emotional time that I have no place in. I notice that Callum never comforts Sophia. He never embraces her. Sophia simply follows him into the pew and sits down with perfect posture, awaiting her time to give the reading that Margaret asked her to do. Whatever Margaret shared with my daughter when they last saw each other two weeks ago has prepared her for this day better than I could have ever imagined.
Gareth’s arm wraps tightly around me as I watch my little girl walk up to the altar, wait as the minister adjusts the microphone to her almost eight-year-old height, and read a passage from the bible with complete grace that she did not get from me.
That is all Margaret.
Through proud tears, I look over at Gareth and mouth a silent thank you. I didn’t want him here, but having him here is exactly what I need.
At the cemetery, Sophia chooses to stand under my umbrella with Gareth instead of with her dad and Callie. I watch her quiet reserve slowly begin to crumble as the
minister sprinkles dirt over the casket and speaks the final words about Margaret’s life.
My little fighter hasn’t shed a single tear up until this moment. As soon as one slips out, it’s as if the floodgates have been opened. She hides her face in my dress, sniffing loudly and squeezing me around my hips so tightly, I’m sure her arms are exhausted.
Gareth comforts me while I comfort Sophia. When the funeral ends and everyone makes their way back to their cars, the three of us stay behind. Once everyone is gone, Sophia lets go of me and wipes harshly at her tears as she walks over to the burial site.
“What are you doing, Sophia?” I ask.
“I want a flower,” she states and points to the spray of roses draped over the casket.
My eyes find Gareth’s and he nods his understanding.
“The pink one,” Sophia says to Gareth, pointing to the one pink rose that’s hidden amongst all the white ones.
Gareth smiles kindly and reaches his long form over to pluck the flower from the casket spray, then kneels down to hand it to Sophia. She instantly presses it to her nose and looks up at me with tear-soaked eyes.
“Grandmama said this one is for me.”
Without another word, my perfect little girl turns to walk back toward the limo, passing by a waiting Callum on her way.
I swipe at my own tears as Gareth puts his hand on the small of my back as we turn to follow.
Callum clears his throat as we reach him. “Did you get my email about the meeting next month?”
With a frown, I look over at him and nod. “With Margaret’s lawyer? Yes, I got it. I’ll be there.” I look around, annoyed that he’s bringing this up here of all places.
“Good. Don’t be late,” he tuts, then eyes Gareth for a moment before turning on his heel to join Callie and Sophia in the limo.
“What’s that about?” Gareth asks, watching Callum with cautious warning in his eyes.
I shake my head. “Probably Sophia’s inheritance. But with Callum, I’m always wary.”
OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, life becomes a bit unusual. Photos of me and Gareth at the funeral appear in several gossip magazines. My website engagement spikes to an all-time high, and my dormant Instagram profile that I set up for my business suddenly gains twenty thousand new subscribers.
I also get a handful of phone calls from potential clients who are searching for custom designs. Freya is busy vetting everyone to establish if they are legitimate. If they are, we may be running a slightly different business in the near future.
I even receive a couple of emails for interview requests which Gareth instructed me to forward to his agent. I suppose this is what dating a Manchester United athlete gets you.
But Gareth takes it all in stride, clearly used to ignoring this sort of attention. He told me that it’s the way his father raised them. No social media and no interviews unless thoughtfully coordinated. Vaughn’s ideals are also why Gareth doesn’t have excess staff members or luxury vehicles and homes like other athletes. The Harris family—dynamic and interesting as they may be—tends to keep a low profile for the most part.
It’s kind of a relief. It means that when Gareth’s not travelling or training, he’s at my house, just being normal despite the current attention we’re receiving. We have dinner together with Sophia and Freya. Then Freya and I try to hide our heart eyes as we watch him play with Sophia in the garden nearly every evening. For being a highly-paid, highly-famous athlete, Gareth is very good at the whole domestic, average life thing. It makes me think there’s a good chance for some normalcy once he decides to retire someday.
And after the argument Sophia broke up in the kitchen between Gareth and I, it’s clear she’s getting very attached to him. The notion scares me because I don’t want her to become overly dependent on him. There’s still so much that can change between us. There’s no ring, no commitment. And even that doesn’t guarantee anything. I mean, he’s still a famous soccer player—modest as he may be. Who knows what our future holds?
I’m riffling through my closet, on the hunt for Sophia’s umbrella, when my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Callum. He’s due to pick up Sophia in an hour, so seeing his number gives me a bad feeling.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice wary.
“Sloan, hello. Look, I’m not going to be able to take Sophia this weekend.”
“Callum, don’t do this,” I reply through clenched teeth. “You already cancelled your weekend with her two weeks ago, and she was so disappointed.”
“I know, but I’m swamped at the office and Callie has family in town.”
“So take Sophia!” I exclaim, my voice high-pitched. “You two are engaged! I’m sure Sophia would love to meet some of her future family.”
“Sorry, not this time.” Callum’s voice is so smooth and business-like, my anger spikes.
“Callum, you can’t keep doing this,” I grind out. “She just lost her grandmother whom you knew better than anyone. She could use your comfort right now. Please don’t cancel on her again. At least take her to lunch or something.”
“Sloan, look, I have to go. Tell Sophia I’m sorry.”
With that, he hangs up, my phone going silent as I begin to tremble. Releasing a mighty cry, I chuck my phone against the closet wall and cover my face with my hands.
As the tears begin to fall, I’m wrapped up in warm, strong arms. Gareth’s scent falls over me as he turns me to face his chest and shushes me while dropping soft kisses in my hair.
“What happened?” he asks, his tone ominous.
“Callum cancelled on Sophia again,” I croak, my voice muffled against his chest. “This is going to crush her. I could kill him.”
“Not if I get to him first,” Gareth retorts, his arms tensing around me.
I pull back and swipe furiously at my tears. “He just makes me crazy because, if this is how our future is going to be with him, I’d rather he disappear forever than disappoint her every other weekend. At least when Callum and I were together, it was easier to conceal these disappointments from her.”
Gareth’s face tightens at my last remark, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches me. “Do you want help telling her?”
I jerk my head from side-to-side. “No, she’s my daughter. I will tell her.”
With a heavy sigh, I move past him to walk out of my closet and go find Sophia. Gareth wraps his hand around my wrist to stop me. His eyes are pleading on mine when I look back and he states, “Sloan, I can help.”
My posture straightens. “It’s okay. I can handle it. Why don’t you go downstairs while I deal with this?”
Sophia sobs in my arms for twenty minutes straight. In those twenty minutes, I think of forty-seven different ways I can murder Callum and hide the body so no one finds out. After she calms down, she asks for some privacy. I decide to take a hot shower, hoping like hell a solution to this mess will come to mind while I do.
When I come out of my bedroom to check on Sophia, I overhear her mumbling, “I hate my dad.”
My heart aches for the pain in her voice, but I slow my steps when I hear Gareth’s deep chuckle carry down the hallway in response to her comment.
“Hate is a strong word, Little Minnow.”
“I know, but he promised last time he cancelled that we’d go see Rex at Grandmama’s lake. I miss Rexy. He must wonder where I’ve gone.”
I tiptoe closer so I can hear Gareth’s reply.
“Well, hopefully your mum can take you out there sometime soon. I think there are still some grown-up things of your grandmother’s that need to be sorted first.”
Sophia harrumphs. “I still hate him.”
I peek around the doorway and nearly die when I see the two of them face-to-face, stretched out on their bellies as Sophia paints Gareth’s nails. Gareth’s big hand is splayed out on a towel as Sophia sticks her tongue out while trying to keep the polish brush straight.
He watches her for a moment before saying, “You know, my dad used to let me down a
lot when I was your age.”
Sophia lifts her wide eyes. “Really?”
Gareth nods. “I used to get so mad at him, I broke my own toys just to let off some steam.”
She nods thoughtfully and looks back down as she dips the polish brush back into the bottle. “I’d rather paint your nails than break my toys.”
Gareth chuckles. “I really do like this colour.”
“Me too!” she exclaims as she dabs more on his pinkie finger.
“It’s the same red as my team’s colour. Perhaps I’ll leave the polish on for my game tomorrow.”
Sophia giggles and shakes her head in disbelief. “You wouldn’t do that.”
Gareth narrows his eyes at her. “You’re right. But I will leave one painted if it cheers you up.”
“It will, it will!” she peals with a giggle that makes my heart soar with joy. She continues painting for a moment before asking, “Do you like your dad better now? He seemed nice at the hospital.”
Gareth smiles. “You know what? I do like him better now. I think some men just need a bit more time to grow up than others.”
Sophia’s brow furrows as she thinks that through. “I’m glad you’re all grown-up already, Gareth.”
“Me too, Little Minnow. Me too.”
Sophia finishes Gareth’s nails and smiles big. “I’m all done!”
With a quick roll-over onto his back, Gareth sits up, careful not to bump his nails on anything as he checks out his new manicure. “Tell you what. I’ll leave two nails painted for the game tomorrow. One for you and one for your mum so that you guys know I’m thinking about you during my home match.”
“That’s perfect!” Sophia squeals happily and begins putting the nail polish away.
“Perhaps your mum will even let you come to a match one of these days.”
Sophia’s eyes fly wide and she turns to look right at me, like she knew I was standing here the whole time. “Can we, Mum? Can we?”
My face heats with embarrassment as Gareth gives me a look for shamelessly eavesdropping. I cross my arms and shrug. “Sure, we can go to a football game.”