Late Love

by Scarlett Hopper

  “Really?” I can’t help but smile when thinking about a younger Owen and how his obsession has only increased as the years go on.

  “Oh yes. Owen once made his entire party watch Jurassic Park despite half of them wanting to run for the hills. In hindsight, I suppose that might have been scary for eight-year-olds, but what can I say? Owen knew what he liked.”

  “He still does,” I confirm.

  She nods thoughtfully, her lips tilting up at the sides from memories. “I’m sure he’s tried to pull you down the rabbit hole?”

  I playfully roll my eyes. “You have no idea. I swear I’ve never watched as many movies in my entire life as I have over the past few months. Half the time I have no idea what’s going on, but I don’t have the heart to tell him that.”

  “Oh God no,” she jokes. “Would break his wee heart.”

  We spend the next fifteen minutes laughing with one another, her relaying stories of Owen’s childhood as I reveal small bits about myself.

  “So, Owen told me your parents live in France?” Evie swirls her glass of wine as she looks at me, her warm blue eyes hauntingly similar to Owen’s.

  I nod. “Yeah, Mum and Dad moved there nearly four years ago now. We’d lived in London my whole life, but they needed a change and I didn’t, so I stayed.”

  “Do you see them much?”

  “Unfortunately, I haven’t seen them since Christmas. I’ve had a lot going on and they’re traveling, so we just haven’t found the time. I’ll probably go visit them in February or something.”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how impossible that visit will be. I’ll be nearly eight months pregnant by then, so travel will be off the table. A slight touch of sorrow mars my heart at the thought of it being over a year since I’ve hugged my mum and dad.

  Evie’s hand comes to rest atop mine on the table, her array of rings glittering in the light.

  “It’s hard being without your parents. I don’t think it ever gets easier, not at any age. That’s probably why I’ve adopted so many of Owen’s friends as my own. I think everyone needs a mum on call when theirs can’t be there.”

  I nod, my throat tightening with emotion.

  “You need anything, you call me, okay? I know we just met, but my son doesn’t invest time in just anyone, and that tells me all I need to know.”

  I smile, nodding because once again the Bower family have left me speechless, not an easy feat.

  “Now, darling, you said you’re seeing your parents next year. What does that mean for your Christmas? Are you staying in London?”

  I avoid her sympathetic eyes. “I haven’t actually thought about it, to be honest. I’m not sure what Owen’s told you, but this year has been pretty challenging for me. I’m still trying to get my bearings. Christmas has been the last thing on my mind.”

  “Well, it would be an absolute pleasure to host you here, Lottie. I know you don’t know me very well, but something tells me we are going to be great friends.”

  The men come back into the room at that moment, Owen’s gaze going straight to where my hands are locked with his mother’s, then darting to my face.

  He gives me a look to ask if I’m okay, but I nod, letting him know I’m indeed okay. I’m actually more than okay.

  “Ooh, cake!” Evie interrupts, clasping her fingers together. “Lottie, you should know this is Owen’s absolute favorite chocolate cake in the whole universe.”

  “Well, I’m excited to try it then.” I lean back in the chair as Evie doles out huge slices of chocolatey goodness to everyone. I take a bite and indeed, it’s the best fucking cake I’ve ever had.

  I look around Stana and Ali’s Shoreditch flat filled to the brim with faces, some familiar and some new. They’ve been living here for two months now, and this is only the third time I’ve been able to come over. I feel bad about being a bit absent, but it’s clear to me everyone has their own things going on.

  Stana is busy finally enjoying her life, being all loved up with Ali and going back to uni. Em is busier than ever with her work, having acquired a big hotel as a client to paint some pieces for. Reeve, well, I’m still not sure about him. Yeah, we’re friends, but he’s seemed even more distant and aloof than usual. Perhaps it’s because I don’t know him like I do everyone else, but my mind tells me something is going on there.

  I just don’t have the energy to dig too deep into it. Lord knows I’m hiding my own secrets. The last thing I need to do is pry about others.

  I grin as I watch Stana fling herself at Ali, her hair flying around her face. They are definitely in love, and I don’t know if anything could make me happier. Stana hasn’t always had the easiest run, so seeing her get this, it’s fucking magic.

  “She’s wasted,” Em says from next to me, a slight sway to her words. “And I also might be a tad wasted.” She starts nodding, her curly hair pinned up with pieces sticking out. Definitely rocking the sexy art-teacher look, despite not actually trying to. I attempt not to laugh at her, my mind knowing I’d miss all this if I too were drinking. I guess being the sober one has its perks. Does that mean I’m going to stay sober once the baby is born? Fuck no. I need a glass of wine like there’s no tomorrow.

  “It’s a party. You might as well celebrate,” I reply, hating how my head automatically scans the crowd.

  “Owen’s in the kitchen,” she tells me, then chugs the rest of her drink. I keep my features neutral as I respond.

  “I wasn’t looking for him.” My voice comes out level, sounds truthful even.

  “Okayyyyy,” she drawls, “but you know, if you were looking for him, that would be okay too. You know that, right, Lottie? I’ve seen Owen around you. He cares.”

  I try to smile at her, but it feels forced, sad.

  If only she knew.

  Sure, if there were no baby, maybe Owen and I would have had a chance, but that isn’t my reality. And now that I’ve accepted this baby, there is not a single thing I’d do to change the path I’m on.

  Turning to Em, I place my hand on her arm. “I know he cares, Em. That’s probably his best and worst trait. How much he cares about people.” I decide to be truthful for once, because dismissing Owen’s attributes feels as if I’d be doing the universe a great disservice. And as much as I can lie about myself, I just can’t lie about him.

  “Huh?” Her face twists up and I realize I probably shouldn’t be going deep while she is three sheets to the wind.

  “I’m just being dramatic.” I finish my Coke, ready to leave soon. I spot Owen through the crowd of people, walking toward me. He’s got a goofy grin on his face, his eyes giving away how much he’s had to drink. Good, I’m glad he’s letting loose. I worry all he does these days is try to cater to my every need despite my insistence that he live his life.

  He’s in front of us the next minute, lifting me off the ground and into a big bear hug. Even drunk, he’s careful of my stomach. He smells of pine and whiskey. My mind wants me to cling to him and run at the same time.

  “Having fun?” I ask, looking up at him.

  “Indeed, I am.” His big dopey smile is directed at me, and only me. I don’t miss how my body warms to him. But tonight only shows me that I need to prioritize my feelings for him. He’s got so much life to live and although we can be in one another’s as friends, it’s important I convince myself of that.

  “I’m actually gonna head home, though,” I say, not wanting to spoil his fun.

  “What, why?” The concern is clear in his gaze as he looks me over, his eyes asking the questions his mouth can’t.

  I pat his arm, letting him know I’m okay.

  “I’m just tired, Owen. It’s been a long day and I’ve got a shift tomorrow morning.”

  He nods, looking down at my hand resting upon him. Shaking his head, he stands a bit taller. “Yeah, of course. Just give me five and I’ll walk you.”

  “No way, Owen. This party was your idea—I’m not gonna pull you away from it all just because I ne
ed to go to bed. I want you to stay, please.”

  He doesn’t reply, pursing his lips as he looks to the ground before coming back to me.

  “I’m serious, Owen. I’m fine, and I don’t live far anyway. I’m just gonna hail a cab.”

  I refuse to let him leave, so drunk or not, he’d better understand I’m still my own person. If I tell him I’m leaving alone, he will listen.

  “Okay,” he finally relents. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’ll be fine. Give my love to everyone—I think they’re all too wasted to even notice I’m going. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say to him and Em.

  She gives me a quick hug before walking over to Reeve, each step a little shaky.

  “Lottie,” Owen finally says to me now we are alone. Well, as alone as you can be in a room full of people.

  “Puppy…” I put up my hand. “Stop.”

  His eyes pinch together as he looks at me. I hate making him feel this way, but I need my independence and I need to reinforce some boundaries. It’s a personal thing more than anything.

  “I know you want to take care of me and make sure I get home okay, but you need to have fun tonight. Live your life like you did before I came smashing into it. I’ve spoken to Em and Stana; I know you used to go out all the time, and since we’ve met you never do.”

  “I never said I didn’t like going out, Lottie. Am I not allowed to change?” His voice takes on a slight edge of frustration, and I know starting this conversation in the middle of the party is a terrible idea, especially when everyone has had a few drinks.

  “I’m not saying that. You know I love spending time with you. You’ve been there for me more than anyone, and I just don’t want you giving up things you love for me.”

  He’s silent, his eyes no longer on me as he looks off. Guilt fills my body, and I want to kick myself for not doing this at a better time or place.

  “It’s just been a really long day, okay? I don’t want to get into something now. I promise to text you as soon as I’m home.”

  I soften my voice, placing my hand on his arm as I silently plea for him to look at me. He finally relents, nodding.

  “Okay, we still on for tomorrow?” he asks, voice hopeful.

  “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Not sure I’d be able to let go if I hugged him right now, I pat his arm and leave.

  I spend the next morning with Stana and Em at my flat, both of them attempting to convince me to head to Edinburgh for Christmas. But I can’t seem to deny, even though I just met Evie, her offer has been at the forefront of my mind. Despite fully moving on from Beck and harboring no positive feelings for him, I’m just not ready to go back to Edinburgh yet, especially at Christmas.

  After telling the girls it’s just too soon, I see the understanding dawn on their faces. They won’t push this, that I know.

  I pick at Evie’s chocolate cake I made this morning for their visit after realizing I’d stuffed up and my early shift was for tomorrow, not today. I swear pregnancy brain is a very real thing and I’ve got it.

  “Where will you spend Christmas, then?” Em asks, mouth open, showing me bits of mushed-up cake. I’ve never been one to cook, but when Evie gave me her recipe as I was leaving, I couldn’t exactly pass up a chance at making it. I may have texted her a picture of it, then received an image of her with a big grin and a thumbs-up.

  My face heats slightly as I reply. I try to keep my voice level; otherwise, I know the two of them will jump down my throat for details.

  “Uh, Owen’s mum asked if I wanted to spend Christmas day at their house.”

  Stana stops mid-bite, while Em starts coughing, seemingly choking on hers. “Sorry, what?” Em says.

  “It’s not what you think. Owen and I are just friends, I swear. He wanted me to meet his mum, so we went by and we just really got along.” I continue to focus on the food.

  “Lottie, you know you could tell us if there was something going on with Owen. He’s an amazing guy, we love him, and we’d love you two together,” Stana adds in, but I quickly cut her off, shaking my head.

  “I mean it when I say we’re just friends. After everything that happened with Beck, it was nice to know that not all men are the spawn of Satan. There are so many other factors that go into why we would never work in a million years, anyway. Plus, I’m clearly not ready.”

  “Is this more you don’t want it to happen, or you’re scared of what could happen if you tried? Because girl, Stana and I have been there and it’s better to take the risk.”

  “It doesn’t matter. All I know right now is that Owen and I are better as friends. Everything is already so complicated; I don’t want to lose him. I won’t.” Even the thought of losing him scares the shit out of me, and the fact that it scares the shit out of me scares the shit out of me even more.

  “Lo, is there something else? Something you’re not telling us?” Stana leans forward, placing her hand on my knee. In this moment I feel incredibly guilty about the secret I’m keeping at bay, but it’s just not the right time or place. Being so close to so many birthdays and Christmas, I don’t have the energy to monopolize everyone’s time and conversation. I’ll tell them in January. That I know.

  “I’m just having a hard time, that’s all. The new year is coming, and it will all be okay.” I smile at them both, putting on the bravest face I can muster. I’m not usually the damsel in distress. I’m usually breaking down the door and hauling the girls out of shit, but I guess you can’t play that role in life forever.

  “But enough about that. Stana, how is uni going? And Em, are you still on deadline for the hotel?”

  My change in topic seems to grab their attention, Stana gushing about her master’s degree in psychology. It appears that a once-unknown depth of life has bloomed inside of her—something I had yet to witness in my dear cousin before her departure from Los Angeles. I guess it’s true; London really does hold that extra spark of magic.

  “I am loving it, Lottie.” Stana beams. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s bloody difficult, but so worth it. Plus, Ali is such a help. I never knew it could be this good. I think a part of me had grown resigned to the fact that maybe I wouldn’t get this in life, but here I am.”

  At the mention of her handsome lad, she brightens even more. It’s in these moments I know I’ve made the right choice to keep the pregnancy to myself. This is Stana’s time to shine in life, and I refuse to be the one to take that from her a moment too soon.

  “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, Stana. I knew London would be the exact dose of medicine you needed,” I tell her.

  “I think Stana moving to London was what we all needed,” Em adds in.

  “Amen to that.”

  “What about you, Em?” Stana asks. “How’s work going for you? Still stuck working with that hideous man?”

  Stana doesn’t mean “hideous” in the physical sense, but I would bet money that his outsides match his insides. Bloody gross.

  “He’s a right wanker, Em,” I toss in for good measure. Emilia has been commissioned to do some artwork for the Wentworth Estate Hotel, a top-tier chain in Covent Garden. Her only issue is the man who hired her. Basically, he used any excuse to be a dickhead and refused to give her name to clients who wanted to commission work from her.

  She nods in agreement. “Hopefully I don’t have to deal with him for much longer. I’m working with another woman, Ms. Brown, and she is yards better so hopefully it stays that way.”

  “Thank fuck for that,” I say, to which the girls laugh. They can always count on me for a bundle of swears.

  We spend some more time catching up with one another, luckily avoiding any landmine topics. The girls eventually have to go, and I have no doubt their walk to the Tube will include the topic of Owen and me, but I push it down. I know if roles were reversed, I’d be the exact same. It’s their way of showing they care.

  I spend ten minutes cleaning up before exhaustion take
s over, my body desperate to lie down, even just for a moment. As soon as my head hits the pillow, it’s lights out.

  “So, do you think you’re going to go?” Owen’s question pulls me away from the baby book I’ve been distracted by for the past hour. I raise my eyebrows at him, unsure what he means. He stopped over about two hours after the girls left, finding me still asleep. If I sleep tonight, it will be a miracle.

  He leaves the kitchen and walks to me, his steps almost silent for a man his size.

  “Edinburgh,” he clarifies. “Stana, Em, and Ali were talking about going for Christmas.”

  I nod, the conversation fresh in my mind. “I don’t think so,” I tell him honestly. “I mean—” I pause, patting the fabric softly for him to sit before I turn my body toward him.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to go and be there for them. I know that Ali and Em were born there and it holds a lot of great memories for them. But it’s different for me. Beck managed to taint that place, and no matter how much I hate giving him that power over me, he has it. I don’t want to go back there, Owen. All that place holds for me is negative memories and heartbreak.”

  He’s silent for a few moments, yet I don’t say anything to fill the quiet. That’s one of the great things about him—Owen speaks in his own time. No awkwardness, no need to fill the silence with useless chitchat.

  “I get it. I was surprised you even said you’d think about it, if I’m being honest. That’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you about an alternative.”

  “Okay?” I lean forward.

  “So, I know it might seem like a lot, but my mum does this big thing with our family every year. There aren’t a lot of us, but we make it a good time. My brother, Hugo, will be here for two weeks. So, I’ve already talked to her about it, and she’d love it if you’d come.”

  I unsuccessfully try to hide my grin.

  “What’s that face for?”

  I laugh. “Your mum already kinda invited me at lunch the other day.”

  Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Of course she did.”