show anyone. I have to find the strength to forgive myself, or I’ll never be able to be honest with Tilly. And I have to trust that Tilly won’t do what I fear most and run away again.
My heart thunders in my chest as I finally reply, “Thank you, Vaughn. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Well, don’t think too long.” Vaughn taps my desk and stands. “Did you know Sunday dinner this weekend is being transformed into a baby shower?” He laughs and shrugs. “Either way, I expect to see you there.”
Vaughn Harris’ property is a beautiful, white-pillared house in the eastern suburbs of London. The grand staircase and marble flooring that greet you when you walk in are a bit intimidating, but after I followed Allie down the hall and turned left through the kitchen doors, I could tell nothing about this family was stuffy.
The warm, inviting space in the gourmet kitchen was meant for function, not fashion as the caterers have set up most of the food on the long kitchen island. Their eat-in kitchen is bigger than most people’s formal dining rooms with a table that seats fourteen. The entire space opens up through several glass doors into the back garden with loads of patio furniture and everything you’d expect to see in a footballing family’s house—goal posts, flags, and toys…loads and loads of outdoor toys for the children.
So…many…children.
“They’re going to call the police,” I gasp, my hand covering my mouth as I look at the madness spread out in Vaughn’s garden. “Should we move everyone inside? Surely someone can hear this and is going to file a noise complaint.” I turn wide eyes to Allie, who’s holding a crying Neo on her hip.
She waves me off. “We do this all the time. It’s fine!”
“You guys do this every Sunday?”
“It varies depending on schedules, but a lot of us make it every week. Be happy it’s not raining!” She begins walking off to deal with an unhappy Neo.
Good God, I’d be sunk if it was raining. I shake my head in astonishment as I try to make sense of every person who has arrived at Vaughn’s house this fine Sunday autumn afternoon. First, there was the oldest Harris brother, Gareth, and his wife, Sloan, from the boutique. They were a welcome sight because they arrived early and their tween daughter, Sophia, offered to help me with the decorations. Their toddler son, Milo, went tearing off up the grand staircase, and I haven’t seen him since.
The next ones to show up were Booker, the goalkeeper and youngest Harris Brother, and his wife, Poppy, along with their twin boys, whose names escape me right now. Teddy and Oliver, I believe? Sweet names but those two little terrors have destroyed over half of the decorations Sophia and I have put up. Freya and Mac aren’t due to arrive for another hour, and I fear nothing will be left if I don’t find a cage to stick those two little demons in.
Deep breaths, Tilly. Deep breaths.
Camden, Indie, Tanner, and Belle all showed up together, each holding a child. I hadn’t really thought about the adult to child ratio when I told Allie to invite whomever she thought Freya would want here, and now I’m sort of wondering why there are no nannies in sight. Aren’t all these people loaded footballers and doctors? Where’s the hired help?
When Vi Harris and her husband, Hayden, show up with just one child, I actually sag with relief. At least one Harris sibling isn’t popping out children on an annual basis.
Added to the mix is Hayden’s brother, Theo, and Leslie. They have their daughter, Marisa, in tow.
I should have ordered a bigger bouncy castle.
When my parents walk in the door, I nearly burst into tears because I’ve missed them terribly, and I need their help so fucking much.
“Tilly!” my mother, Jean, hugs me tightly, her warm embrace like a childhood memory all wrapped up in a touch. I was thrilled when they found a flight out yesterday to be here for the shower. They stayed in a hotel last night and are leaving late tonight, so it’s a quick trip for them. They wanted a chance to see Freya before the baby was born, though, and plan to be back for a much longer visit after the birth.
She pulls back and touches my curled hair. “My God, you look stunning! And look at this beautiful blue dress. So feminine for you. Are you actually