“What do you mean?”
I wipe under my eyes as I shrug. “I can’t explain it. I love you guys. I love my parents. And I love Jaxon. But this baby… I’ve not even met him or her, and there’s this strong, overpowering sense of love already, and it’s like nothing I can describe.”
“That’s amazing,” she whispers, and hearing the broken sound to her voice, I step closer.
“Are you okay?”
She shakes her head and lets out a sniffle. “We aren’t trying. Not yet anyway. But I’m scared it’s never going to happen for me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t imagine you ever not being a mum, Charlotte. There are other ways to have a child. Look at me. I’m adopted by my biological brother. He’s the best parent I could ever wish for. The only one I’ve ever known. And the love he and Mum showered me with? I couldn’t have asked for more. I really couldn’t. They made me theirs, Charlotte. They gave me love, a home. And one day, no matter the circumstance, you’ll have a child that I have no doubt you’ll shower with the same kind of love. There is no doubt in my mind.” I take a deep breath before taking her hand in mine. “Whether you conceive or not, you’ll be a mother one day. And when that day comes—because it will—you’ll be a fantastic mother.”
She pulls me in for a hug, and for a moment, I stiffen, before I relax, hugging her back. “Thank you, Lily. Thank you.” She sniffles, letting me know my words affected her.
“You don’t have to thank me,” I declare, squeezing her a little tighter.
She pulls back, one hand on my stomach. “I do. And I need to apologise. I wasn’t the most congratulative when you announced your pregnancy.”
I don’t want to remind her of what happened, but it needs to be said because I don’t want her to feel guilty for something unwarranted. “You were going through a lot back then, Charlotte.”
Her gaze drifts off for a moment, and for a second, I feel like I’ve lost her, but then she shakes her head, pulling herself back to the present. “No, I was jealous. And I’m sorry. I—”
My heart breaks as her expression crumbles. “Charlotte, please, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
She wipes under her eyes. “Yes, yes I do. Because it wasn’t kind of me. It’s been months and months and I didn’t know how to bring it up. I wasn’t sure if I would say the wrong thing, like I’m probably doing right now.”
“You don’t need to apologise to me.”
“But—”
I close my eyes as a wave of pain hits me. I know exactly how she feels; to want something so bad, it consumes you. “I’ve been jealous too.”
“What?”
I meet her gaze, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’ve been jealous. Of you. Of a lot. My earlier years are people’s worst nightmares. I close my eyes and I feel their hands, their touch. I smell the scent of smoke, taste the beer, or the stench of it, on their breaths, even in their pores. I still get those fears. And although most of it feels like a nightmare, I know they aren’t figments of my imagination. They are real.
“I envied Faith when I first met her. I glanced at all she had, even though most of it ended up lost in the fire, and I wondered what I did wrong to only get a blanket on the floor. It confused me. All I had known was sadness and fear. But I… Mum read to me whilst Dad held me in his arms the first night I stayed over, and I felt safe for the first time in my life.”
“Lily,” she calls softly, letting out a sigh. “You don’t need to—"
“We are all guilty of jealously, Charlotte. Of envy. You want what you want and there is no guilt in that,” I remind her. “I’ve watched you all grow. I’ve watched how you were loved and doted on. I heard the laughter when you were happy, the soothing sounds of comfort when you were sad, and I’ve heard words of encouragement when you’ve struggled. Even in our worst moments, our parents have made sure they said and did the right things. They were parents. But for a short time in my life, I didn’t get to witness that. I never got to feel it until Mum and Dad took me in. But you… you see the world differently from all of us, including me. I envied that. I got so jealous every time you picked yourself back up and carried on. Every time you smiled at a stranger. Every time you came back with another drunken escapade story. Every time you opened your heart to people.”
“I don’t understand.”
I feel the weight of my words before I even say them. They are words I’ve wanted to say out loud for a while now. Everyone probably already knows, but not from my lips. “Because I held back from living. I love you all fiercely. I always have. Sometimes so much I’m scared I’m going to wake up and be back on that floor with that tattered blanket. I know how depraved this world can be. I bared witness to heinous acts. And I gave up on seeing the world for what it can be, to see what you see, because of the unfairness I lived as a child. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve watched you overcome things and still manage to see the world as you do. I’m jealous of that. I hate that there’s a constant fear of everything beyond my four walls. It held me back. But nothing has ever held you back.”
She glances down at the ground. “I didn’t know.”
“You once said to me you wished you could be more like Hayden, because she’s strong she seems unbreakable. I get that. I wanted to be you so many times I lost count. I wanted to be able to look at the world through your eyes. To trust implicitly.” I wipe my cheeks. “God, I’m sorry. I never meant to get this deep. I’m just feeling emotional today.”
“I’m sorry for bringing this up. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories for you. I didn’t mean for any of this.”
“Don’t be. I love you. And I don’t want you to feel guilty over this. I need you to understand that it’s okay to want those things. It’s okay, Charlotte. And one day, you’ll have those things. I promise.”
“Thank you,” she chokes out. “Thank you for always being here for me.”
For the first time, I initiate the touch, and pull her in for a hug. “You’re welcome. And I really am sorry about going on. I’ve just been feeling sentimental lately.”
“It’s the baby,” she tells me, her hand rubbing over my bump one last time. Her phone beeps, alerting her of a message, and she pulls back. She laughs when she glances down at the screen. “Drew sent me a picture of the cats. Katnip has knocked over the glitter lamp and glitter has gone all over the black shirt he was planning to wear tonight.”
“Go and sort your cats out,” I tell her, laughing lightly at the picture she shows me.
“I’ll come and wait inside with you. You really do need to get off your feet. I shouldn’t have kept you standing out here in the cold.”
I place my hand on her arm. “It’s fine. It was me talking your ear off. You get going and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She nods and picks her bags up from the floor. Before she can get down the step, I call out her name. She turns, arching an eyebrow. “You okay?”