Page 2 of Forever, Never, Always (Forever #2)

Sofia

I’m late. It’s Monday morning and my first official day back at work, and I’m already feeling like a failure.

I had my outfit prepped, hanging up and ready to slip right on after my shower.

And it was all going to plan until I woke Harry up and he puked down the front of my cream silk blouse and pinstriped trousers.

It even managed to soak into one of my brand-new low-heeled shoes.

That meant a quick outfit change into a creased green blouse I had pre-pregnancy, which is popping open slightly at the bust, covered by a dark blue trouser suit I owned from fuck knows when that hasn’t seen the light of day in forever.

And I topped it with heels that are way too high now I’m a mother and used to wearing flats.

I take a deep breath as I press the doorbell for the private nursery. I’d spent months looking for the perfect place for Harry, and this seemed it from the reviews left by other parents who swear this is the place to have your little humans nurtured well.

The door swings open and a girl no older than seventeen stares at me with mistrusting eyes. “I’m new,” I announce, and she frowns. “I mean, Harry is new,” I rush to correct, laughing nervously.

She steps to one side for me to go in, which is unexpected seeing as the lady I came to meet before said they take them at the door.

“Actually, I’m running late,” I tell her as I follow her through to the baby room, where several women are rocking screaming children.

Harry clings to me, staring wide-eyed at the other babies.

“I really need to get off.” She ignores me and grabs a large book off the side.

She turns, handing it to me without a word, and I wrestle with my bag, shrugging it to my shoulder, and taking the book.

“What’s this?” She walks away, and I stare after her in bewilderment.

“You just have to sign it,” a nearby mother tells me.

I smile in thanks then move to the nearest table and crouch down, resting Harry on my knee and dropping my bag to the floor.

I turn to the right page and scribble my name down.

I stand and look around, picking out a play leader in a blue uniformed top and heading her way.

“Excuse me.” She smiles, and I relax a little.

“It’s Harry’s first day,” I tell her, and she takes Harry’s chubby hand and gives it a little shake.

“Welcome, Harry.”

“It’s just, I really need to go because it’s my first day too and I’m running late.”

“We usually ask the parents to stay until their little one is settled.”

I look around at the screaming babies, noting that Harry is still clinging to me with one fist wrapped in my hair. “I was told I could just drop and run, so to speak.”

“I guess he does seem quite settled,” she mutters, reaching for him.

Harry tugs my hair, making it clear he will not release it without a fight. I pass him over and try to untangle the fist of doom. “Mummy needs to go,” I sing-song, my voice filled with anxiety. It’s no good—his grip is strong as the playworker begins to hand him back to me.

“No,” I say clearly, and Harry startles, the way he does when he’s about to take something he can’t have.

His bottom lip wobbles, and I glance around frantically, spotting a pair of scissors.

“Let me just—” I snatch the scissors and make quick work of hacking above the piece of hair that Harry is holding onto.

The playworker stares at me with wide eyes, and I offer a weak smile.

“I’ll collect him at five-thirty. Have fun, sweetie,” I say, kissing him quickly on the head before grabbing my bag and running out the door.

By the time I make it on the overpacked tube and to the office, I’m a hot, sweaty mess.

I run my hands through my hair as the lift rises to the top floor.

It’s been a year since I was last here, and there have been a lot of changes.

My old boss, who I loved, has left, and she told me there were a lot of staffing changes.

But nothing prepares me as I step out onto what was once a floor of small offices to find a huge open-planned space with bustling noise and music playing loudly.

I frown, looking around for what used to be my office, only to find a group of young-looking women all crowded around a desk chatting.

I head over, and they stop talking to look at me.

“Hi,” I say but not one of them smiles. “I’m Sofia Heart.

Returning from maternity leave.” They continue to stare blankly, and I swallow my nerves. “Where’s the boss?”

“Dex,” one of them calls out loud, making me jump in fright, “new girl is here.”

I frown. “Not new,” I mutter, turning towards a man heading our way. He looks me up and down, arching a brow in what I think is a judgemental way. “Hi, I’m Sofia,” I tell him, holding out a hand. He frowns deeper before shaking it.

“Dexter. Follow me.”

He leads me into the only office space here and closes the door, drowning out the heavy beats of the music. “Take a seat,” he adds, pointing to a pink shell seat. The entire office matches this one chair, and it’s so bright, I contemplate wearing sunglasses. “Pronouns?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“He/she/they/them/him/her.”

“Clearly she,” I mutter.

“How is it clear?” he asks, sounding impatient.

“I’ve just come back from maternity,” I say, shrugging.

“Are you saying men can’t have children?”

I wince slightly, wondering what this guy is on. “Well, yeah. I mean, they can have children and come back from paternity , but I’m back from maternity, meaning I gave birth.”

He eyes me for a second. “My pronouns are he/him.”

“Right.”

“Please don’t assume pronouns. It could upset a lot of your colleagues.”

“Things have changed since I was last here,” I reply, wanting to change the subject.

“Clearly.”

“I used to have an office.”

“We thought open-plan was more modern. We can communicate without walls as a barrier.”

“In my day, we just used the door.” Dexter doesn’t even smile, and I take another calming breath. “And the music,” I continue.

“We each get a music day. Today, Tommy is in charge.”

“And he likes dance?” I ask, forcing another smile. “Loud dance?”

“They,” he corrects, “not he.”

“Right. Maybe you can just show me to my desk, and I’ll find my way from there?”

Eric

“Homework as you pass my desk,” I shout over the hustle and bustle as the final bell rings and the kids make a run for it.

“I don’t want excuses,” I add as Jason stops to give me another of his bullshit lies as to why he couldn’t produce a short story on his chosen topic when I know full well, he was drinking cider all weekend and shagging Ellie from the year above.

“Have it in for tomorrow,” I tell him, knowing I’ll never see it.

The room empties, and I fall back into my chair and rub my brow. I swear, I’m getting wrinkles. “Long day?” I look up to find Hugo in the doorway.

“Yes, boss. I need a raise.”

“You had one in April, brother. That’s how you got your new house.”

I smirk. “If you’re here to tell me the meeting’s been cancelled, I will love you forever.”

“Ha, no such luck.” I groan. “However, Jimmy convinced me it would be better held in the pub, so see you there?”

I fist bump the air. “Nice one, James.” Jimmy is four years younger than me. He followed in mine and Hugo’s footsteps to become a teacher, although Hugo outranked us both when he took the headship here, but then he made me deputy and Jimmy head of year.

The meeting runs a little over an hour, with not much talk of work at all and more talk of our mother’s impending birthday celebration.

By the time I get home, I’m shattered but thankful I remembered to grab a pizza on the way. I’m heading up my path when I hear the usual screams of Harry. The neighbour the other side catches my eye, rolling his. “That kid never stops,” he says. “Someone should check on it.”

I force a smile, unlocking my door and placing my laptop bag inside. I then proceed to re-lock it and head next door. The neighbour watches me, and I shrug. “I’m doing what you suggested and checking on our neighbour because maybe she’s just having a real hard time with a young baby.”

“I meant official, like social services,” he mutters.

I offer a tight smile. “Well, let’s just take one step at a time, shall we?”

I knock loud, and it’s a minute or two before Sofia rips the door open, looking hassled.

Her eyes are swollen like she’s been crying, and her hair is tied back with a large piece sticking up to the side.

I eye it, and she consciously tries to slap it down.

“Hi,” she whispers, her voice sounding hoarse.

“Pizza,” I offer, holding up the box. “It’s way too big for just me, so I thought I’d share.”

She glances behind her. “It’s not a good time.”

“I’d say it’s the perfect time,” I tell her, offering a friendly smile.

She stares past me. “Hi, Mr. Graham,” she calls. “Do you want to join us for pizza?” He must shake his head because she steps to one side to let me in, rolling her eyes. “Of course, you don’t, you nosey bastard.”

I stare at the piles of toys and discarded clothes across the living room, with Harry sitting amongst them crying.

I turn to Sofia and hand her the pizza because she needs the distraction as much as Harry, and then I go to the little guy and scoop him up.

He instantly stops the noise, seemingly shocked I’m not put off by his cries.

“That’s better,” I say, wiping his wet cheeks with my free hand.

“Yah know, for such a little man, you’re very loud. ”

I follow Sofia into the kitchen, catching her braced against the worktop with her head hanging in defeat. “Bad day?” I ask, and she spins to face me. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She forces a watery smile before opening the pizza box. “Pepperoni, my favourite.” She opens a cupboard then slams it. “No clean plates,” she mutters, and I spot the dishes stacked in the sink. She’s drowning .

“Who eats pizza from a plate?” I scoff. “Get that box over here,” I tell her, sitting at the table and moving a stack of magazines to one side to make room.

She joins me, and I take a slice, fighting off Harry’s hands trying to grab it as I take a bite. Sofia laughs as she quickly wipes away the tear rolling down her cheek.

“The first day back was hard?” I guess, and she nods, swiping a tear from the other eye. “It’s been a year, and I’m sure leaving Harry was difficult.” She bursts into tears, sobbing into her hands. I slide my chair closer, resting a hand on her back and rubbing circles while she takes a minute.

Harry pats her head, causing her to laugh some more before she sits back, wiping her face. “It was hard,” she confesses, “and I feel out of my depth.”

“It was your first day, Sofia. Cut yourself some slack.” I close the pizza box. “How about you get this one to bed and we can eat pizza after. You can tell me all about it.” She nods gratefully, and I hand Harry over.

Once she’s gone upstairs, I stand and look around the kitchen. First things first. Wash the dishes.

Zoe

“What do you mean it hasn’t arrived?” I demand, looking around the boxes frantically.

One of my top influencers is arriving any minute and she specifically requested a diamond-encrusted microphone to give her arrival speech.

Not real diamonds, of course, but let me tell you, it was hard to find a pink diamanté microphone just the same.

I shake random boxes, eventually feeling heaviness in one and sighing with relief as I retrieve the microphone and hand it over to my runner just as the Rolls Royce stops outside. I breathe a sigh of relief and stand off to one side as guests gather at the entrance to hear my client’s speech.

I take out my mobile and fire off a quick message to Sofia.

Me: Hope your first day back was fabulous and Harry enjoyed nursery. Xx

Then I send another to Ric.

Me: I’ll call round later if you’re free? x

We’re both so busy with work, it’s been hard to meet up at all lately.

Ric: Okay. I’ll wait up x

I smile, tucking my phone away. One more day and I can begin to look him in the eye again, because hiding this pregnancy has been a nightmare.

I found out three weeks ago, discovering I was almost four weeks.

There was no question in my mind, I knew I was going to terminate, but the guilt is eating me alive because I actually like Ric, and doing this without his input feels wrong.

But it’s the right decision for me, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

The gathering goes inside, and I follow. This time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.