Page 45

ROSIE

I freeze half way through the door, my shoulders locking and my stomach sinking to my feet.

“Glad you could make it.” Cleo sends me the look I’ve been greeted with every day since I can remember. A smirk pulls at the corners of her lips, her eyes glittering with the laughter I know will be cruel.

I turn to my mother, questions that don’t even need to be asked heavy in the air between us.

She doesn’t look at me, her gaze darting around as if she can look at every other person in the room before she can look me in the eyes.

“What’s going on?” I ask, hating the way my voice shakes.

“It’s your baby shower, silly,” Cleo says, turning to me and placing her arm through mine. She tugs me out of the doorway and further into the room. Her phone is in her hand, held up and snapping a picture before I can even blink.

I glance around, finally taking in the surroundings of my own personal hell.

Pastel everywhere, fake pink foliage dotted around the room and dozens of tiered cake stands on doily-covered tables filled with finger food and cold cut meats.

There’s a guy dressed in black with a camera in hand, zooming in and out of the puff pastries before spinning his camera towards the window.

I skip over the sea of women I’ve never seen before in my life, desperately searching for a friendly face.

Who are these people? And where the hell are my friends?

I glance over my shoulder to see my mother smiling with two women who might have just wandered in off the street for all I know, but she doesn’t glance in my direction.

Cleo ushers me into an oversized pink armchair that’s so soft I basically collapse into it before she turns back to the camera team with a smile.

“Make sure you get a clear shot of the collagen water,” Cleo orders them. “The brand wants it to be the thumbnail.”

I struggle to get off our sofa at home without Jackson levering me off, so I have no hope of getting out of this contraption.

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart.

Okay, Rosie, this is fine. Anya will be here soon, I just need to text her ?—

I groan under my breath as I remember exactly where my phone is and I stare mournfully at the door.

The blonde woman to the right of me shifts in her seat, her leather trousers crinkling against the fabric and I turn to her as if maybe she could help me get up. I’m not above begging a stranger at this point just to help me get out of here.

“Hey—” I start, but before I get any further she stands with a graceful hair flick and teeters away from me on six inch wedges before walking over to Cleo.

I see my sister glance at me before she turns her attention back to the blonde with a giggle.

My face heats as I glance around desperately. Where is Anya?

My back aches from the awkward position I’ve found myself in, and I move around until it eases slightly, shifting my weight further into the chair.

I tilt my head back in the armchair and stare at the ceiling, willing the tears to stay in my eyes.

What did I really expect? I should have seen this coming. Why did I think there would be one day where my mother would actually do something nice for me?

Now, I’m literally trapped in a room full of people I’ve never met, as Cleo takes photos holding a bottle of collagen water for what I’m sure is a hefty brand deal, and I’m already blending in with the armchair that’s holding me hostage.

I don’t know how long passes without anyone crossing my path. I gave up trying to get Mum’s attention after her first fly-by without even glancing in my direction.

I keep staring at the door, hoping Anya will walk through any second, but it hasn’t opened since I arrived.

“Okay, everyone, it’s time for games,” Cleo announces, clapping her hands and walking towards me.

I imagine her heel snapping underneath her, or a ceiling tile dropping on her head, or a pigeon flying through the window and shitting directly on top of her sleek curls. As if she can read my thoughts, her lips twist in that familiar smirk.

“First game is guess the size of the belly,” she announces, holding up a tailor’s tape and letting it roll out.

“Oh,” she snickers, as the length cuts off less than thirty centimeters from her finger.

“I don’t think this one will fit. Wait, let me try a different one.

” This time, her tape unfurls from her hand and the length disappears under a nearby seat.

“Still not enough! I am just so bad at this game!”

Giggles erupt around me as the words find their mark. I shift my arms to cover my stomach and sink further in my seat, desperately trying to keep the tears from falling.

The feeling is familiar, the humiliation that bubbles in my chest when Cleo and her friends would laugh when I tagged along shopping with them and couldn’t find clothes that fit.

It didn’t matter that I grew into my weight as I got older, didn’t matter that I had what Nanny called ‘womanly curves’, I was bigger than my sister, and that was enough.

Between Cleo’s laughter and my mother’s criticism, the cruel thoughts settled across my body like concrete, weighing me down until I flattened myself into an acceptable shape.

I want to shrink in on myself, melt into the armchair beneath me, until everyone stops looking at me.

But then, I remember the way Jackson held me in front of our mirror and worshiped my body, the way he grabbed my thick thighs and wound them around his back as he effortlessly picked me up.

The man loves my body, he tells me every time he can’t let me go, when he kneels at my feet and gazes up at me with admiration.

Smudge kicks at me, reminding me that she’s in there. That my body has changed to grow my baby girl.

Rage pierces my insides, boiling through the humiliation and turning to liquid fury to match my scorching cheeks.

I’ve had more than enough of this. I love my thighs and my belly that’s expanding to grow my baby. I’ve always loved the way I looked in that birthday dress and I can’t wait to wear it again. Why do I care what Cleo thinks? Why have I ever let her words dictate how I feel about myself?

I grab hold of the two armrests and brace my feet on the ground, successfully levering myself up.

I close my eyes and breathe as my stomach cramps from exertion. Shoving my shoulders back, I keep my eyes on the exit as I storm past the crowd.

Just as I’m about to reach the door, it blows open and Anya storms in, her face like thunder. Her eyes widen just slightly before I basically collapse into her arms.

“Where the hell have you been?” I ask, voice shaking. I hold tightly to her elbows as pain shoots down my spine.

Anya’s vibrating. “I knew it,” she says, gaze locking on Cleo across the room. “We were given the wrong fucking address. We spent an hour waiting in a restaurant in Clapham before we realized something was up. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“It’s in my bag,” I whisper.

Anya waves a hand. “We figured that out too, don’t worry.”

“Rosie, darling, we’ve been looking–” Pip says, peering around Anya.

“Oh my god,” a voice squeals from behind me. “It’s Cassandra!”

Suddenly our small group is swarmed by the hoard of women all vying to get a piece of Cassie.

Cassie sends me a wide eyed look. “Friends of yours?”

I shake my head mutely as she gets swallowed up by a swarm. My head is almost fuzzy and I bite back a moan.

“What do you want to do Rosie?” Anya places her hands on her hips, brown eyes glaring around the room. “I will fight all of these bitches if I have to. ”

“You should probably help her.” I gesture to Cassie’s red curls that we can barely see through the crowd of raised iPhones and blow outs.

Anya nods before spinning to face the crowd. “Okay girls, back away from the celebrity. Have some self respect, please .”

Anya dives into the crowd, and I finally take a deep breath, my hand resting on my stomach.

“You okay Rosie? You look flushed,” Pip says, gently clasping my elbow.

“I’m ready to get out of here.”

“You got it, darling. Let me get your coat.” Pip leaves me and I brace my hand on the wall to my left as my back cramps.

“This is why you let me throw the parties,” Pip chastises with a gentle smile as she reappears with my coat. “Afternoon tea? Original.”

I laugh. “I wish I’d let you.” Pip helps me shrug my coat on, tugging my hair free from the collar.

“Pip Covington?” A simpering voice says from behind me. “Thanks so much for coming.”

I straighten my back and turn to face my sister, who has her hand outstretched to Pip. She doesn’t even acknowledge me, her gaze fixed totally on the supermodel standing next to me.

“I’m so sorry about the girls,” Cleo gestures her hand towards the group still circling Cassie.

“You know how they can be. Some people just let the fame overwhelm them. If it’s okay with you, there’s a great spot in the corner where we can take some photos.

The lighting is great, and I know my followers would love to see you. ”

Pip’s fan-ready smile fades on her face as she glances at my wide eyes with a question of her own .

“My sister,” I say flatly, refusing to even acknowledge her name.

For a second, the familiar fear lodges in my throat. That Pip will be taken in by her just like people always are. But instead, my beautiful friend’s eyes narrow as she hooks her arm through mine.

“I’ve heard all about you,” she says in a sharp tone I’ve never heard before.

“Good things I hope?” Cleo titters, flicking her hair away from her face.

“Is there anything good to say?” Pip asks, tilting her head. I hide a snort behind my hand.

Cleo blinks in shock, glancing to me and our entwined arms before crossing her arms across her chest.

“I don’t know what—” Cleo starts, but I cut her off.

“That’s enough, Cleo,” I snap. “I always thought you were cruel, but now I’m starting to think you’re delusional on top of it.”

Cleo gapes at me, but I don’t stop.

“My entire life I’ve just been your personal punching bag, a way for you to feel better about yourself by tearing me down.

But you know what I’ve realized? I have a life that’s happy and full of people that love me for who I am, and no cruel little pranks or snide comments will take away from that. ”

“Rosa-pee—” Cleo starts.

“And enough with that nickname. You know how much I hate it, but you still say it. You’re my sister, and you’ve always been like this, so I just got used to it.

But I’m done. I’m going to walk out of here with my friends and go home to a man who loves me and I’ll never speak to you again.

I’m going to be a partner and a friend and a mother, but all you’ll ever be is a vicious fucking bully. ”

Cleo gapes like a fish, her cheeks reddening as she glances around for someone to save her.

My mother appears like an apparition, suddenly right in front of me as if she hasn’t been blending into the wallpaper all afternoon.

“ Rosalie Taylor ,” Mum hisses. “How dare you say that to your sister?”

I raise my eyebrows. “What happened to ‘it’s none of your business’, ‘you’re sisters, work it out between you’.” I scoff. “ Now you get involved? When I finally stand up for myself?”

I bark a sarcastic laugh and rub my hand across my face.

“Jackson was right. He knew you were planning something like this. I was just so desperate for you to love me that I ignored all the warning signs.”

“This is not the time or the place,” Mum says with a fake smile, glancing around at the crowd of women peering at us. “You’re making a scene.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t even know the names of any of these people. I couldn’t care less if they hear what a horrible mother you’ve been and how you raised an evil witch.”

Anya snorts behind me as she, Cassie and Pip flank my sides.

“I’m done with this,” I say, throwing my hands up. “Thanks for the world’s worst party.”

I turn and storm out of the room as fast as I can, sensing my friends following behind me.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Cassie says as I push the button for the elevator.

“Rosie!” Anya squeals. “That was the most badass thing I’ve ever heard. Evil witch,” she snickers. “I’m going to comment that on all of her Instagram posts. ”

“We need to celebrate.” Pip says excitedly. “Let’s go back to mine. I can throw a real party.”

“Sounds great,” I bite out around a whimper. “But we should probably go to the hospital first.”

Three pairs of wide eyes turn to me.

“I think I’m in labor.”