Page 28

ROSIE

Any minute now I’m going to wake up and the last twenty four hours of my life will have all been a dream.

It’ll be yesterday and instead of dragging myself to the office, I’ll somehow destroy my sister’s internet access so she can’t upload any video, and I won’t find myself in the Victorian townhouse of my dreams with my head somewhere on a different plane.

The kitchen faces the back of the house, and sunlight streams in through the large windows from the covered garden.

A huge island takes up the center of the kitchen and I find myself doing a full lap as if it’s a roundabout.

I have the strongest urge to open all the cupboards and see what’s in there, but I clench my fists together to stop myself.

The house is still a blank canvas, half opened boxes propped against walls and a random assortment of furniture. A question lingers in the back of my mind, but I haven’t got the strength to address it yet.

Jackson stands by the door leading back to the hallway, his eyes burning into my face. I can’t look at him. I can’t let him see the range of emotions coursing through me .

He leads me up the stairs, talking about light fixtures and high ceilings.

But all I can think about is how soft the carpet feels underneath my feet, how much I’d love to take a bath in the claw foot tub he shows me in the main bathroom, how I can imagine glancing out the circular window above the stairs with a stained glass center.

I try to take steady breaths to calm my racing thoughts, concentrating as he shows me room after room–how many are there?

Eventually he stops at another door, turning to face me. His face is unusually shy. “You good?”

I nod, my mouth dry. I couldn’t say anything even if I wanted to.

He rubs his beard once before pushing the door open.

I gasp.

Freshly painted sage green walls greet me and beautiful bay windows let in the afternoon sun, reflecting off the white marble effect crib set against one wall. Above the crib are letters spelling out ‘Smudge’.

It’s beautiful. Unfinished, but I can already see the vision. The changing table that can sit against the other wall, a rocking chair under the window. In the future, maybe a small toddler bed in the middle, books and toys scattered on the floor.

I see it all before I realize that I can never give Smudge this. All I have to offer her is a small crib wedged between my bed and the wall. A flat that I could get evicted out of after a few missed payslips.

I suck in a breath, blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears from falling.

“What do you think?” Jackson asks, resting his hands on my shoulders, his thumb rubbing in smooth circles.

“It’s lovely, Jackson,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic.

This is good. If her mother can’t provide this life for her, at least her father can.

It’s fine. We can make it work. It’s only a thirty minute drive, that’s nothing.

Although, I don’t have a car and the journey would take close to an hour on public transport, but that’s still doable.

“Come on, there’s one more room I want to show you.”

I nod, pulling my lips between my teeth to stop them quivering.

He takes my hand guiding me back down the stairs and through the kitchen.

“This is the only room that’s actually finished,” he tells me, swinging the door open.

A large mahogany desk takes up one wall, a large screen mounted behind it. A comfortable looking armchair rests in the corner. And a chair, identical to the one in the flat, sits underneath the desk.

“Obviously you can change whatever you want, and I left space for you to bring your computer tower.”

“What?” I ask quietly, my mind whirring as I try to process what’s in front of me.

“Look, I even tracked down the chair for you. I set it up myself. I thought maybe I could see if there was a part missing, maybe some extra padding, but nope it’s as it is.”

He stands behind it and gives it an experimental swing as he shoots me a cheeky smile.

I take in his expression, the room he’s designed, before I glance at the chair under his hands.

And then I burst into tears.

His eyes widen as he crosses the room to me, pulling me into his arms and burying my face in his chest.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry this is too much. It’s the wrong time to show you this, maybe I should have waited and got all your stuff in here first. But I just didn’t know how to do that without stealing. We can send this chair back and bring your old one in.”

I take heaving breaths as I finally choke out. “I hate that chair.”

He pulls my face back with a glint in his eyes. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

I sniff, pushing my glasses up my nose. “I hate it, it’s uncomfortable and makes my back hurt and I can never actually cross my legs without my stupid knees bumping into the stupid desk.”

“You’re saying you hate the chair? Rosie Taylor, after all that.”

“I’m sorry,” I wail.

His body shakes beneath me with a laugh, and he tugs my face to his chest, letting me bury my face in his soft t-shirt.

Eventually my tears subside. “Wait.” I pull back to face him.“Why did you buy it?”

“Well, now I kind of regret it, to be honest. It was a bitch to put together. But you liked it so I wanted you to like it here too.” He shrugs.

I furrow my brow. “Jackson, please. What is happening here?”

His eyes widen, realizing that I have spent the past fifteen minutes thinking he was showing off his new house. “I want you to like it here because I want you to live here with me. You and the baby.”

I blink rapidly. “You don’t—you don’t want to split custody?”

“What?” he gasps, eyes widening. “ No! God no, I want to be with you, both of you. I want you here where it’s safe and we can sleep together every night and get a sofa big enough to nap on and a shower separate to the bath. ”

“You want me to move in with you?”

He nods, wiping away a stray tear from underneath my glasses. “Yeah, pretty girl, I want you to move in with me.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips, still salty from my tears. “I know it’s a lot. It’s been a crazy few hours, but when you said you couldn’t go home last night I just…I couldn’t wait for a second longer. I want you to be safe and comfortable. Here. With me.”

The thought of going back to the flat already felt hollow. I’ve spent months worrying about what I’m going to do, how I’m going to raise a baby and afford the rent, and get rid of the stubborn mold that keeps growing in the bathroom.

“I know you love the flat so if you want to?—”

“I don’t love the flat,” I say firmly. “I love it when you’re there with me.”

I bite my lip, so close to spilling the truth.

I can’t agree to move in with the man and tell him I love him on the same day. That would be too much.

“I’ll pay you rent.” Though would that make Jackson my landlord ? Gross.

“Absolutely not. Your money is your money and my money is your money.” He shoots me his trademark smirk and I tug at his shirt.

“Jackson, be serious. I have to contribute something –”

“If you even think about offering to pay rent, I will transfer it straight back into your account.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” He grins. “I might even add a bit extra to the refund each month.”

I roll my eyes as his infectious smile pulls at his lips.

“So, is that a yes?”

I take a deep breath, collecting my thoughts. Can I do this? Move in with him, let him take the burden of housing me and the baby?

His smirk transforms into a soft smile as he takes my hands and places them over his heart.

“Rosie, I have the means to support you, to support both of you. Please let me. Let me take care of you.”

Well. I don’t have an argument for that one. My fingers caress his soft t-shirt, and I swear I can feel the strong beat of his pounding heart.

“If you insist.”

I squeal as he wraps his arms around me and sweeps me into his arms. “Jackson! I’m too heavy.”

He growls playfully into my neck as he spins and carries me out of the office. “Never.” He presses a kiss to my lips as his confident strides march down the hall. “I have another room to show you.”

Turns out I like the bedroom too.