20
21 weeks
T he blue dress I’m wearing drapes over my bump, which has officially graduated to grapefruit status according to the app on my phone. It’s fine—aside from the pelvic pain, leg cramps, and boobs that now belong to some porn star.
But hey, at least the nausea’s eased up. Thank fuck for that.
Everyone’s here for Callie’s christening, filling Xavier and Isla’s house with that warm buzz of voices and laughter. Even Claire made it down from Sydney—which is nothing short of a miracle, considering she’s usually glued to her job. Her last visit? Two days post-Christmas to meet Callie, and she spent most of it on calls. Now, she slides up beside me and Isla, her eyes bulging as she looks me over. “Five months! I leave for five bloody months, and this? Imogen Whitley, pregnant? If you tell me you’re baking bread and making jam, I swear—”
I snort, shaking my head. “Oh, shush. I haven’t gone that soft. Besides, you’ve barely had time off, CEO woman.”
Isla elbows Claire. “Exactly. We’re lucky you showed up at all.”
Claire sighs dramatically. “Corporate life. You know how it is. But seriously…” Her gaze drops to my bump, and she shakes her head. “You, Imogen? Pregnant? I thought hell would freeze over first.”
“Guess I love keeping everyone on their toes.” I snort.
“Please. You always have. But this?” She waves a hand toward my belly. “This is next level. I’m impressed.”
Isla and I laugh, and I let her words settle in. For once, I feel a little less on guard, surrounded by people who get me. My people. Claire’s eyes gleam with curiosity, “So, who’s the baby daddy?”
Isla chokes on her drink, shooting me a side-eye loaded with trouble. “Oh, you’re gonna love this.”
Claire tilts her head. “Who is it?”
Before I can respond, Xavier walks in, grabs a bottle of oil from the counter, and plants a quick kiss on Isla’s cheek. “Be back soon, babe,” he says, heading out the door. Then Harrison appears, filling the doorway with that undeniable presence of his. His deep, steady voice hits me like a shockwave, and I swear, the baby stirs at the sound.
“All good?” he murmurs.
My stupid face heats up instantly, but Claire’s already clocked it. Her sharp gaze bounces between us, her grin spreading like wildfire. She leans toward Harrison, arms crossed, smirking.
“Hi, Harrison. Remember me?”
He chuckles. “Claire, right?”
“Impressive.” Her grin widens. “Didn’t think you would.”
He shrugs, glancing my way. “Hard to forget Immy’s friends.”
Claire’s eyebrows shoot up. “Immy?” She turns to me with a wicked gleam. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.”
“Okay, chill.” I groan, rolling my eyes.
“Not a chance.” She’s eating this up, her grin darting between Harrison and I. “Best gossip I’ve had all week.”
Harrison smirks, enjoying every second of this disaster. “I’ll be outside,” he says, his tone practically daring me to follow.
“Bye,” I wave him off like I’m totally unaffected, even though my pulse is doing laps and my brain’s screaming something like abort mission . Yesterday, he’d said he loves my eyes, and my whole body acted like he’d recited Shakespeare. Pathetic. Someone cue a personality reset.
Claire’s questions are still buzzing in my head as we head outside. The June air is cool and smells like sausages, and the boys are chatting away, Xavier’s dad flipping steaks like a pro. I spot Bradley across the yard, talking to a guy I vaguely recognize from last year’s news—Sebastian Daniels. I recognise him from last year’s news coverage during the fires.
Grace Mitchell walks by, showing off Callie to everyone, while the rest of us sit around a long table with some of their extended family and friends. Laughter fills the air, but it’s the sight of a little boy near the jumping castle that grabs my attention. He looks lost, small, with mousy brown hair.
“Whose kid is that?” I nudge Isla.
She follows my gaze, her face softening. “Oh, that’s Bradley’s mate’s son. His partner, Sebastian Daniels. Apparently, he didn’t even know he had a kid until recently.”
“Wait, what?” I glance between Sebastian and the kid. “How does that even happen?”
Amelia leans in, whispering, “Apparently, his ex showed up on his doorstep a month ago, dropped the kid off, said ‘he’s yours now,’ and bounced. No interest in being a mum.”
I stare at the kid, the pit in my stomach growing heavier. Seeing him stand there, confused, it hits too close to home—knowing what it’s like to be left behind by a parent. I look at Claire, and she catches my eye, her expression steely yet sympathetic.
“I can’t even imagine,” Olivia mutters.
“That’s seriously fucked up,” Claire adds, shaking her head. We all go quiet, watching him, standing alone in the crowd, lost. Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m on my feet, heading toward him without a second thought.
“Where’s she going?” I hear Claire murmur, but I don’t look back.
I crouch down in front of the little guy. “Hey, kiddo. You having fun?” He just looks at me with big, serious eyes and shrugs.
“How old are you? What’s your name?” I ask.
He holds up two chubby fingers. “I two. Name’s… Theodore.” He stumbles over the word, and it comes out more like Tee-oh-door . “But… Mumma call me… Teddy.”
I wince, my heart sinking a little at the mention of his mum. “Nice to meet you, Teddy.” I smile down at him. “Can I call you that?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh.”
I swallow, trying to keep it together. He probably doesn’t get half of what’s going on in his little world right now, but his eyes—those big, innocent eyes—tell me he knows something’s wrong.
“Want me to take you to your daddy?” He grabs my hand with his tiny fingers, and I’m already leading him over to where Bradley and Sebastian are talking.
“Hey, guys!” I call out, trying to sound casual.
Bradley smiles, and Sebastian’s face lights up with relief. “There you are, buddy.”
“Found him by the jumping castle.” I offer my hand to Sebastian. “Imogen Whitley.”
“Sebastian Daniels.” He shakes it, glancing down at Teddy. “Thank you, Imogen. You okay, buddy?” He crouches to meet his son’s eyes before turning back to me. “I’m still processing everything, learning. Balancing work and suddenly being a dad... It’s a lot.”
“I told you, we can adjust your hours,” Bradley says. “You need time to settle.”
Sebastian shakes his head. “Nah, the station needs me. We’re already short-staffed, even with Lucy and Craig. I can’t leave you all in a bind.”
“How long has he been with you now?” I ask.
“About a month. We’re getting to know each other.” Sebastian shrugs. I nod, smiling softly.
“Look, we’ll figure it out,” Bradley insists, his tone firm. “You can’t pour from an empty cup, Daniels. You need time to adjust. We’ll handle the shifts.”
“I know.” Sebastian sighs, rubbing his hair. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it, Mitchell.”
Teddy tugs on Sebastian’s hand, looking up at him with wide eyes. “When’s Mummy coming?” My heart breaks for him.
“Not sure, kiddo, but it’s just you and me for now. How’s that sound?”
Teddy shrugs at his father, then suddenly wraps his arms around me in a quick hug. “Oh!” I say, surprised, but hug him back. “Thanks, Teddy.”
Sebastian glances at me curiously. “Teddy?”
“Yeah?” the little boy says, looking up.
“Oh, he told me that’s his name. Or what… his mum used to call him,” I explain.
“Well, champ, I think Teddy’s the best name,” Sebastian says.
I crouch down again, my dress pooling around me, mindful of my growing belly as I lean closer to Teddy. “Hey,” I say softly. “Did you know that, when I was little, my dad looked after me, too? He’s the best dad ever. You know what, Teddy?”
“What?” he asks, eyes wide.
“Your dad’s gonna look after you now, too. He’s gonna be the best dad ever.”
Sebastian starts to protest, “Oh, I don’t know about—” I shh him quietly.
“Okay,” Teddy says, a grin spreading, his small shoulders relaxing as if my words are enough to steady his little world. Something shifts in me, unspoken but undeniable, as his tiny smile lingers. Months ago, this moment would have been unthinkable, my awkwardness around kids a barrier I couldn’t cross.
But now? The life moving inside me has swept that hesitation away, leaving nothing but ease.
Sebastian glances at me and mouths, thank you. It hangs between us, quiet but full. I nod, knowing it’s not just for Teddy—it’s for Sebastian, too.
Kicking my sneakers off at the door, I’m fully prepared for an empty house. But no, Harrison’s here—sprawled out on the couch, hands behind his head, looking far too comfortable for someone who usually comes rolling in around four.
“Immyyy,” he drawls without even glancing up. “That you?”
“Nope,” I deadpan, dumping my bag on the bench.
“Come here!” he whines, dragging out the words in a way that should make my skin crawl but doesn’t. Damn him.
“For what?”
“So I can have a hug?” He’s looking at me like I’ve just denied him air to breathe.
I scoff. A hug? Who is this man, and what did he do with Harrison Price? He’s been weirdly clingy lately, and I’m still debating whether it’s hilarious or concerning. I’m not even sure when we moved past that push and pull stage, but now he’s way too comfortable. “No way.”
His pout is so exaggerated it’s cartoonish. “But I’m tired, and I want a cuddle. Joe let me off early. I’ve been here since two and I’m bored.”
I gape at him, trying not to laugh. “You’re tired? I was up all fucking night with a moving baby and your snoring.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “I do not snore.”
“Oh, you do,” I retort, grabbing a glass of water. “Loud enough to wake the fucking dead.”
“Well, you sleep talk, so I guess we’re even,” he counters, grinning.
I freeze. “Bullshit.”
“Uh-huh.” His smirk grows. “Through the wall. Heard it all.” He clears his throat and puts on the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. “‘ Oh, Harrison, I love you and your big pierced cock.’”
“Get fucked!” The glass hits the counter with a sharp clink, but I can’t even muster the full force of my outrage because—of course—my cheeks betray me, heating up like a fire. “I do not.”
“Oh, you do, Immy-girl,” he laughs, leaning back like he’s waiting for applause. “It’s cute.”
“Yeah, well, at least I don’t sound like I’m letting off a fucking symphony loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood.”
His laugh erupts, shaking the couch. “Now that’s just mean. Say you’re sorry.”
“Not a chance.”
“One...” His grin turns wicked. “Two…” He’s already moving. “Three!”
His hands latch onto my sides, tickling me like a fucking maniac. I shriek, flailing, smacking at his hands. “Harrison, you idiot—”
Michael walks in mid-chaos. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” His eyebrows shoot up, and he heads for the fridge, shaking his head. “Look at you two lovebirds, all cosy. That’s cute, all hugging and shit.”
Harrison, not missing a beat, lunges for him. “Aw, jealous, Mikey? Come here!”
“Oh, get fucked.” Michael shoves him off, glaring as he grabs a beer. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.” I glance between them, already dreading whatever disaster the two of them are about to cook up.