He looked at her with a scowl. “What is it?”
“Hold Daisy for a minute? I’ll be right back.” She handed over the baby and disappeared into the house before Martin could argue.
They all watched him for a strained moment before Sophie’s plan came to fruition. Martin held Daisy like the natural that he was and his entire posture changed. Whereas before he was all tension and barely contained anger, now he was relaxed and loving. He held Daisy up so that he could meet her eyes and they stared at each other for a time.
Even from his short distance, Gavin could see the tears forming in Martin’s eyes. No one knew what to say or do, so it was a relief when Sophie came back with a tiny sweater in her hands. She had Martin sit on the arm of a chair, still holding Daisy, while she put the sweater on her.
“There, that’s better,” Sophie cooed, as much to Martin as to Daisy.
“Oh, fuck,” Martin said. He used one hand to swipe at his eyes. “I miss my boys so much. And I don’t know what my life is going to look like now. How can I only see them half the time?”
Sophie squeezed Martin’s hand. “You’re sure it’s over with Celia?”
Gavin watched this interaction with interest. Sophie had never had a special relationship with Martin. She had one with Conor, of course—unfortunately. And she had one with Shay. But this was new with Martin.
“I don’t know. I think so. I mean, I just need to be on my own to explore things. And I don’t think she’d be willing to take me back after I’ve done that. If that’s what I even wanted.”
Sophie nodded sympathetically. “It’s a tough spot to be in.”
“It’s fucking brutal,” he agreed.
“I think—if you don’t mind me saying?”
“No, please,” he said, eager for her advice.
“I think, that the very best thing you can do is be honest with yourself. Be true to what you think you need. Otherwise, nothing else will work.”
He took a deep breath and laughed wearily on the exhale. “You have no idea how much that helps. ‘Cause honestly, I’ve thought of just forcing myself to stay with her for the kids but I’d be miserable.”
“And that wouldn’t help anyone.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” He nodded, grateful for this confirmation.
Daisy yawned and Martin stroked her cheek gently.
“She’s finally ready for bed,” Sophie said.
“She’s gorgeous, Sophie. And your next one will be, too. Congratulations.”
Sophie smiled. “Thanks, Marty.” As she leaned down to take Daisy from him, she whispered in his ear, “It’s going to be okay.”
Martin wrapped an arm around her neck as she pulled away, hugging her to him in a move that surprised them both. “Thanks very much.”
“Of course. You’re a brother to me and I want to see you happy.”
Gavin watched as Sophie took Daisy around to everyone to say goodnight. They came to him last and he took his daughter into his arms to hold her before she went down for the night. She was growing up at an alarming rate, losing that baby feel all too quickly. Still, she was the most precious thing he had ever known and he greedily inhaled her scent as he held her to him.
“Why don’t you come help put her down? Sing her a song?” Sophie suggested.
“I think I will, darlin’.”
The three of them left the others to it. They were content to make it an early night along with Daisy. So much for those wild rock star nights. At least for this night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“You’re up early.”
Conor looked up to find Sophie walking toward him, a baby video monitor in her hand. It was just after seven and the Los Angeles sun had already warmed the morning to the mid-seventies. He sat on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, wearing black and gray board shorts and a white T-shirt. Sleep had left him an hour before and he was on his second cup of coffee. He’d come out to the pool with Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel, The Buried Giant, but hadn’t begun reading. Instead, he had enjoyed the quiet of the morning.
“So are you,” he replied.
Sophie took a seat next to him, dipping her feet into the water and leaning back on her hands. Ever the California girl, she wore her long blond hair in beachy waves, and had a bikini under a filmy short cover-up dress.
“Sometimes, even if I’m still tired, I like to get up before Daisy. Just to have a few minutes of solitude.”
“Well, I’ll leave you be.”
“Oh, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she said with a laugh. “I’m happy to have your company.”
“Okay, then. Since you’re up maybe I can pick your brain?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I’m going to ask Felicity to marry me.”
Sophie’s eyes lit up and she smiled. “That’s great!”
“Yes, but I need to come up with something that will really wow her. Something she will remember.”
“If she doesn’t remember being proposed to by Conor Quinn, then there’s something wrong,” she said with a laugh.
“You know what I mean. It should be a spectacular event.”
Sophie looked off into the distance, toward the buildings of downtown Los Angeles. The sky was remarkably clear. After a minute of contemplation, she asked, “Do you think she wants a lot of hoopla?”
“Well, maybe not ‘hoopla’,” he said with a laugh. “But something unique.”
“You know, Gavin proposed twice. Both times were special, not because he had some grand gesture to go along with it, but because his words came from the heart.”
Conor nodded. It occurred to him that he had been scrambling to think of something over the top to impress Felicity, when that really wasn’t necessary. The kind of romance Felicity craved wasn’t a dramatic, public spectacle. In fact, Felicity was practically allergic to too much sentiment—except when it came naturally, like with the Ferris Wheel ride they’d taken. That hadn’t been the result of pre-planned orchestration, and yet it stayed with her as something she cherished.
“Have you picked a ring?” she asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Why don’t you have Gavin go with you? He’s got a good eye. Maybe he’ll even get me something while you’re at it.”
Conor laughed. His and Sophie’s relationship had seen many peaks and valleys, and it wasn’t so long ago that he was desperately in love with her. Now they could discuss his plan to marry another. Struck by this realization, he looked down to the depths of the cobalt-tiled pool for a long moment.
“Soph?” he said and turned to her. He waited for her to meet his gaze. “Do you think in another world we would have made it?”
She didn’t seem surprised by the question. It made him wonder whether she had given this thought before. Like he had. Countless times.
A smiled spread over her face, reaching her hazel-green eyes. “Without a doubt, Connie.”
He smiled in reply, nodding slightly at this confirmation. When she leaned her shoulder into him he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her on the temple. That old familiarity was so easy to rekindle. A part of him would always adore her. And he took comfort in the fact that she would always feel for him, too, even if it wasn’t meant to be. Even as he now had a love and relationship that gave him something more real than he had ever had with Sophie. Sophie had been the fantasy that turned into an unsustainable love. Felicity was his one. The one who made being in love a fearless thing. He’d go to the ends of the earth for her.
“Felicity is really lucky,” Sophie said, as if reading his thoughts.
Conor took a deep breath and released it as he pulled away from her. “I’m the lucky one.” And because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “I’ve had two great loves.”
Sophie grasped his hand and smiled. “Look at that. So have I.”
He felt those words deep in his chest, but he was careful to keep his eyes on the water before him. “Thank you for that,” he said softl
y.
“There’s no need to thank me. You have no idea how much you’ve meant to me, Connie. This thing with us, I got the better end of the deal, and for that I’m sorry.”
Glancing at her, he fought against the surge of emotion threatening to overtake him. “Jesus, Soph. Don’t do this to me.”
She squeezed his hand. “I just wanted to be sure you really knew. Because after everything, you deserve the kind of happiness you have now. The happiness you put off. I’m so grateful you and Felicity found your way back to each other.” With that, she released her hold on him.
“I am too.” He struggled with what he wanted to ask next, debating whether to verbalize it at all. In the end, he once again couldn’t stop himself. “Do you think Gav will ever really forgive me?”
This time she looked surprised by his question. But she gave it thought before replying, “I know you want absolution, but I think you should let that go.”
“How can I? Honestly, how can I stop wishing for that?”
“Because you might never get what you think you want.”
“What do you mean, what I think I want?”
“You want forgiveness, I get that. But it seems to me that what you want most is for things to be the way they were before Gavin knew. You want that closeness again and I understand why. Don’t you think I wish I could go back in my marriage, too?” She shook her head as she looked at her feet in the water. “But it has to be different now. I knew that when we got back together. We couldn’t pretend all that didn’t happen. Instead, we let it go and moved forward.” Turning to him, she said, “If you do the same, you’ll find that what you get is worth it. You’ll still have the friendship you want. Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s any less amazing, I promise you. And the greatest thing is, he is open to that.”
“You think so?”
“Come on. You two have been really close again, haven’t you?”
He nodded reluctantly.
“But . . . you still want him to say he forgives you.” She paused. “Is that for him or for you?”
That stung, but he knew it was a valid point. “It’s unnerving how well you still know me, honey,” he said with a sheepish smile.
“I also know it’s going to be okay. You and Gavin are ninety-percent of the way to where you need to be. Just let it happen.”
“There’s a million reasons why I fell for you—and that’s one of them.”
“What is?”
“Your unyielding desire to see the good in things. The good in me.”
“Because you are good, Connie,” she said, pinching his cheek playfully.
He laughed and kept eye contact with her for a long moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. It felt good to have had this talk. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes until the baby monitor came to life. Daisy was climbing to her feet and pounding on the railing of her crib.
“There she is,” Sophie said with a smile. “My girl knows how to make an impression.”
“Just like her mother,” he replied and she laughed. “It’s a lasting impression, Sophie. And that’s a good thing.”
Sophie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you a little later for breakfast.” She grabbed the monitor and stood before making her way back into the house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The dishes from breakfast were a daunting task, but Sophie volunteered to do them as long as Felicity both kept her company and kept Daisy entertained.
The guys had disappeared together on some sort of errand and the timing suddenly seemed convenient since they had been the ones to use just about every pot and pan in the house while making breakfast.
“Marty seemed in better spirits,” Felicity said. She held Daisy to her hip and rocked her back and forth.
“Thank goodness. He broke my heart last night. It’s awful to not know where your life is headed.” Sophie squeezed a stream of dish soap under the running water so that the pans could soak while she worked on the other dishes.
“Well, he did have a rather significant part in getting himself to this point, didn’t he?”
“That’s true. But it doesn’t lessen his pain over it, right?”
Daisy twisted and pushed away from Felicity, making it clear she wanted to be set down. Sophie turned off the water, dried her hands, and found a stack of Tupperware dishes. She set them before Daisy and the child was soon focused on trying to pull them apart.
“You were so kind to him last night,” Felicity said as Sophie went back to washing the dishes. “It’s this maternal instinct in you. What if I don’t have that with the child we get?” Their adoption efforts were proceeding, with the expectation that they’d see a placement early the following year.
“You will.”
“What if I don’t?”
Sophie saw the fear in Felicity’s eyes and wanted to hug her. But she thought that might send Felicity over the edge, so she kept on scrubbing plates.
“Then I’ll help you until it kicks in.”
Felicity smiled. “It’s going to be wonderful to raise our children together.”
Glancing over, Sophie noticed her friend holding her stomach and her face going pale. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, grand. I just, I’ve not felt quite one hundred percent the last few days. But I don’t think you have to worry about it being contagious. It’s just a minor stomach upset that comes and goes. Something I ate combined with the travel, maybe.”
“Hmm. Any other symptoms?”
“Just a little tired.”
With the plates, glasses, coffee mugs, and silverware all placed in the dishwasher, Sophie turned off the water and examined her friend. Felicity was average height, with a slim build—not exactly the actress or supermodel type Conor had favored for so many years. Her brown hair was wavy and contrasted nicely with her blue eyes. A light dusting of freckles accented the smooth, pale skin of her cheeks. Though she had spent over a decade living in Canada, she was the epitome of Irishness—both in physical appearance and with her straightforward manner.
“And I’d guess it’s the fatigue that has made me weepy lately. I was choking back tears last night over Marty’s little breakdown, even if he has himself to blame!” she said with a laugh.
Sophie laughed, too, but not for the same reason. “Felicity, when was your last period?”
“What a question!”
Felicity’s smile slowly faded when Sophie continued to wait for an answer. “No, it’s not possible. I’m sure I had it a few weeks ago. It might have been a little shorter than usual, but that doesn’t mean what you’re thinking.”
“How about another question?” Sophie said. “Have your breasts felt especially tender?”
Reflexively, Felicity brought one hand up against her chest. “No. I mean, maybe only because of—well, sometimes things can get intense, you know?”
Sophie nodded. “Uh huh.”
Tears came to Felicity’s eyes. “Listen, you know that I’m unable to have children. I have spent years hoping that any little thing was a sign that this wasn’t true, but it was a cruelty to myself. I am doctor-certified infertile. So, please don’t try to make my upset stomach into something that will never come to pass.”
Sophie didn’t hesitate to hug Felicity now. She held her for a long moment, trying to fight the certainty of what she knew: Felicity was pregnant. “I’m sorry,” she told her. “I didn’t mean to disrespect what you’ve gone through.”
Felicity pulled away with a dismissive wave of her hand. “No, it’s okay. I know how hard it is to give up hope, believe me,” she said. Her smile was weary.
“Why don’t you go lie down, have a rest?”
“I think I will. It’ll help kick whatever this cold is.”
Sophie watched her walk down the hall, unable to stop from smiling.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Though Rogue had been invited to attend that year’s MTV Video Music Awards, they had declined since they
hadn’t planned to be in America. Gavin’s impromptu band holiday in Los Angeles had changed that, so he cajoled Conor and Martin to join him at the show in Hollywood, suspecting they would win “Best Pop Video” for their song “Start Again.” Shay bowed out with a good excuse—Jessica was coming into town that night to spend a few days with them.
This visit to the awards show felt different from the one where they had made a splash so many years before. That had been in 2003 and was when Gavin emulated Madonna and Britney Spears kissing by kissing Conor when Rogue gave their acceptance speech for winning “Breakthrough Video.” Twelve years on, and the room full of media savvy musicians hungering for the next viral video moment made the event tedious as each act tried to out-shock the next.
Just as Gavin suspected, the band won in their category and were called to stage. The song had been another one of his heartfelt love songs for Sophie, and much like their first big hit, “You’re My One,” it connected with audiences in a big way because of it. But as he was preparing to give his thanks at the microphone, a gaggle of girls high up in the theater screamed out for Martin. That set off other high-pitched howls and then a round of spontaneous clapping.
Gavin smiled and laughed, amused that Martin’s scandals had endeared him to the MTV audience. He turned to see that Martin was standing behind him, looking every bit the rock star in jeans and black T-shirt that stretched across his muscled chest and exposed his tattoos. His face was covered by a few days beard growth that was sexy rather than scruffy. The mirrored aviator glasses he had taken to wearing rounded out his new and improved—and irresistible—look. Gavin waved him forward and Martin reluctantly stepped up.
“Let’s let our Martin have the spotlight for this one, yeah?” Gavin asked into the mic and the crowd cheered.
Martin rolled his eyes at Gavin. He did not crave the attention that Gavin did but had no choice now. He leaned into the mic.
“Em, thanks very much for the award,” Martin said. He had to pause while the audience screamed and clapped. “Gavin wrote the lyrics. Gavin wrote most of the music. This is Gavin’s song for his wife. Glad you all liked it.”
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