it now will make it more of a surprise for them, so it’s perfect.”
“I’m hoping you can help me with the guest list and a venue option? If it’s a lot of people, here won’t be big enough. Plus, it’ll kind of ruin the surprise if I start hanging streamers up.”
“My uncle Vaughn’s house in Chigwell would be perfect!” she exclaims. “It’s a mansion not too far out of London with tons of room for all the kids to play in the garden. Also! If I have Vaughn invite Mac and Freya to his weekly Sunday dinners, Mac won’t be able to say no because well, Vaughn can be terrifying when he wants to be. I’m sure my uncle would be keen to help out! And if not, I’ll sic his daughter, Vi, on him because no man in that family can say no to Vi.”
“This sounds great, Allie! Okay, you get Vaughn sorted and send me the guest list. I’ll handle everything else.”
“This is going to be so much fun! A couple’s shower with kids to truly terrorize Freya and Mac before their parental debut is just what the doctor ordered. Plus, the whole crew hasn’t all been together in ages. What an amazing idea, Tilly!” she peals with a shrill laugh that has me smiling on my end.
Once we hang up, I immediately begin making a list of everything I’ll need: decorations, game ideas, food and beverages—alcoholic and non-alcoholic for the mummy-to-be, kids, and me of course. Once that’s complete, I pop into the nursery next door to my bedroom to take an inventory of everything Freya and Mac have bought already. I know once invites go out, everyone will want to know what to get them for presents. Since I can’t exactly ask them to make a registry without spoiling the surprise, a proper snoop will have to do.
When I open the door to the nursery, I gasp at the transformation. Freya mentioned Mac had been busy in here, but I haven’t been around enough to peek inside and see how it was coming along. It’s positively stunning.
Freya said her inspiration was fresh farmhouse, and they pulled it off beautifully. A dark brown crib rests beneath the large west-facing window flanked with prints of horses and cows. A tall, rustic-looking wooden floor lamp by an antique rocking chair. The wall beside the chair features animal-print-covered shelves filled with old books my parents sent from our home. Bright bursts of colour are featured in the décor on the changing table, and I feel a knot form in my throat when I glance inside the crib and spot a baby vest folded neatly on top of the homemade quilt Freya’s mum sent.
The moment my fingers touch the embroidered text of Jacob Fergus Logan across the front of the wee outfit, an unexpected sob bursts out of me, and I find myself gripping the crib for balance.
It’s been two days since I left the Cotswolds, and I’ve managed to keep everything inside, not giving any ounce of time or energy to what happened there. I even checked into a hotel when I returned late Saturday night because I didn’t want to go through the drama of telling Mac and Freya why I was home early.
I’m not ready to tell anyone what transpired between Santino and me when I’ve worked so hard to be this new, improved version of myself. To come slinking back home to my brother to say we’re over after all that drama we went through is too humiliating to bear along with this heartbreak. I begged Mac to forgive Santino because I was madly in love with him, and now it’s all just gone. In the blink of an eye.
I was so beside myself on that train ride home that an elderly man seated behind me asked if I wanted a hug. A hug. That nearly broke me. And to think that the stress of leaving Santino made me even consider digging into the hotel minibar I stayed at Saturday night just further confirms the fact that I was in way over my head. Falling for Santino and making myself vulnerable caused me to doubt everything I’ve been working for these past five years.
All so he could make a fool of me.
Looking back, I made a lot of mistakes with him. I let myself lose control, which is something I swore I would never do once I got sober. And him not trusting me was a trigger