3. Back to the Beginning
Lucy soured as Winston and she arrived at a new, over-the-top luxury hotel. They’d given up on their short city break. He tried, at least. She knew Winston’s instinct was to run home to the baby. Instead, he arranged for a hotel and a car. He swore she’d still get her well-deserved spa day come hell or high water. Still, she was bitter that his first response was to neglect her rather than invest in their relationship.
She was so frustrated as they boarded the elevator, that she wanted to sleep. Winston went over the top and invested in the best suite. At least he never skimped. She just hated that they were like every other married couple with kids. He’d given up already, needing prompting to do even the least bit of work to impress her and make her feel loved.
Lucy wandered to one of the two bedrooms in the suite, satisfied. She tipped the bellhop and listened to Winston cancel their hotel and Swiss flight. She flopped onto the bed and kicked her shoes off. Winston arrived as she was nodding off.
“Want dinner? A proper dinner?” Winston asked. “Because we haven’t had one.”
“I think it’s best for both of us that I go to sleep right now.”
“I disagree,” Winston hopped onto the bed next to her.
He moved her a lot more than she did him. Sometimes, Lucy forgot the sheer size of Winston until she spotted a photo of them or had to cart around his massive, oversized offspring.
“Winston, the day isn’t your fault. I’m just in a mood and?—”
“I’m sorry,” Winston said. “I didn’t realise you felt so uncared for. It was never my intention. I never want you to feel left out, Lulu. I must admit I have been distracted, but it’s not my intent to ignore you or pressure you into popping out another kid.”
“You want one?—”
“I do. I can wait, okay? It’s your decision ultimately. I will drop the issue until further notice.”
“Thank you,” Lucy was surprised by his contrition.
“And I never want you to think I don’t want you. I do. I’m knackered, but?—”
“I don’t want us to be those people who go through the motions, Tony. That’s where I’m at, okay?”
“Scale of 1 to 10, how much do you want to get off right now?”
“I’m not?—”
“I asked you a question, Lucy.”
She let out a long, tortured sigh. Winston expected an answer.
“It’s like a twelve, but I want it to be worth the wait if I’m already there,” Lucy admitted.
“Okay, well, I’m not suggesting I power through and half-heartedly shag you,” Winston said.
He kissed Lucy slowly, in a way that reminded her she was human. She’d wanted this for ages. It was no perfunctory kiss. It was a sweet, longing, wanting kiss: perfection. She melted, wanting him more. She knew he wasn’t suggesting they do anything, though. She was dying for something. She tried not to think about it. Then, Winston’s hand filtered down her body and into the waistband of her leggings and panties.
Lucy pulled back. “You don’t?—”
Winston kissed her again, ignoring her half-hearted protest. He slid his hand down until his fingers played with her clitoris. He’d play with it a bit, circle, slowly pull away, go back, and dip his fingers inside. Lucy gasped, her head pressing into the pillows. She moaned.
Winston looked at her as he tickled the spot that would bring her the biggest wave of pleasure. He read her so well. Going in for the kill, he wasted no time. She had even less patience.
“You still don’t believe me?” Winston asked.
Lucy choked out, “No. Just don’t stop.”
Winston didn’t stop. He brought her to the point of no return. Lucy shrieked, gripping onto the duvet for dear life. It was like a bomb went off. She panted and looked over at Winston, who smiled. He was quite satisfied.
“Good?” Winston asked.
Lucy was at a loss for words, so she nodded.
“I hate to break it to you, but I think your knickers are a lost cause.”
It was almost guaranteed that she would squirt when Winston finished Lucy off like that. Ages ago, Lucy feared she was broken or an oddity. She realised it was a superpower that led to a massive orgasm. Winston was the only man who managed to make her cum like that.
“That’s okay,” Lucy said. “I packed a few more pairs.”
He chuckled.
“You want to fuck me?” Lucy asked.
“Sure.”
“Not too tired?”
“At this point, I could be on death’s door and wouldn’t turn you down. I must have you, Lucy.”
Winston tossed his clothes aside. Lucy did the same.
“I want to be on top,” Lucy said, impulsively, not letting him take charge. “I want to be selfish.”
“Use me all you want, baby,” Winston said.
Lucy dug in more. He wanted her. It was affirming and raw. She couldn’t hold back now. She went for broke, cumming again and screaming his name. He flipped her onto her back, staring down as she came again. He could treat her like a rag doll all he wanted. He got off on getting her off. It was what she’d been missing all this time.
Winston came, grunting and eventually rolling over to her side. She looked over, grinning.
“Now, what do you say about a proper dinner?” Lucy laughed. “I think you earned it.”
“I could do dinner,” Winston panted.
“So, what is on your mind?”Paul’s father Robbie asked.
Sanne looked at Paul nervously. He always waited for her to take the lead, but this was his family. This was an important thing for him. He needed to say it. And, to her surprise, he did.
“We’re expecting,” Paul said.
“Expecting what?”
“Robert!” Vanna, Paul’s mother, smacked him on the arm playfully. “They’re having a baby.”
The King went deer-in-headlights before grinning. “Really? Sanne, you’re pregnant.”
“No, I am, Dad,” Paul joked. “Yes.”
Vanna hopped up and gave Sanne a big hug. “This is lovely news. Unexpected, but lovely.”
“We sort of expected it to take longer,” Sanne said. “Foolishly.”
“Well, it’s great news,” Robbie said. “Wonderful news.”
“When are you due?” Vanna asked.
“August,” Sanne replied. “First week of August.”
“We’re excited,” Paul said. He was bursting.
“I cannot tell in the least. Well, cheers. I suppose we won’t bust out the champagne,” Robbie joked. “A happy surprise, indeed. So, I am assuming George knows?”
“He does because she was violently ill,” Paul snickered.
“All over their kitchen floor. God, I’m so embarrassed. George and Patrick were sweet about it, but I wish I could have avoided that. My Moms and my sister also know. It was nearly impossible to cover up.”
“Well, it’s a happy thing,” Robbie said. “I bet they’re as excited as we are.”
“Everyone is very excited. They agreed to say nothing, of course,” Paul said.
“I am not worried about your parents, Sanne. I worry about Georgie,” Robbie said. “Bloody nightmare. He runs his mouth.”
“Oh, like you did when you announced our pregnancy with Paul to a room of thirty people?”
Robbie blushed.
“I want this story,” Sanne giggled. “I need this.”
“I’m like ten weeks pregnant with Paul. It was my easiest pregnancy, mind you. We had to try for years for him. And finally, Paul. Our easiest baby and most challenging toddler.”
“He was a dreadful baby. He never slept. You just loved him because he looked like you. Paul, you were a nightmare. I hope anything but that for you.”
“Robbie, don’t be an ass,” Vanna said.
Sanne loved it when her in-laws argued. It humanised them. People wouldn’t believe Robbie was as bad as his son at thinking before he spoke. No one would guess their sweet Queen could be so direct and admonishing when needed. She kept her husband on a leash. He needed it. Sanne found herself doing the same with Paul. Paul may have been his mother’s spitting image, but he had his father’s lack of self-awareness.
“We hosted a dinner. There were about thirty royals in the room and he noted I was ill and flagging because of ‘the baby,’ We only had full-on kids at that time. The twins were no longer babies. And there were two of them. Not to mention that I was showing and trying to hide it.”
“I flubbed. I should have caught myself, but I was excited. It was too soon. She was nervous to say it,” Robbie agreed. “I felt dreadful, Vanora.”
“Well, you didn’t seem to care much at the moment.”
“You were hormonal.”
Vanna rolled her eyes. “Robert, I am not getting into things from nearly thirty years ago.”
“Uh-huh,” he gave her a cheeky grin.
“I should smack that smile off your face,” she said, playfully. “The point is, Paul, I need you and George to not run your mouths. That’s all. And you, too, Robert.”
“I have learned my lesson, Vanna.”
“I will do my best,” Paul said. “But she’s ill, so we must get creative. Let’s ask Lucy what to do. She will know.”
“Lucy has never managed to cover up a pregnancy and she’s already swamped, Paul,” Sanne said.
“Your staff can talk to Meredith. She must remember how to do it,” Vanna said. “We will rework your schedule, Sanne. It will be okay. And, yes, the press will get nosy. But we will deny through omission until you both are comfortable announcing it.”
“It could be good. Natalie has yet to produce an heir. It will calm them and distract them from that,” Robbie said.
“Don’t ever say that to her, Robert!” Vanna said. “I am serious! You never know what she and Ed are planning.”
“They’ve said they wanted to wait.”
“So did we,” Paul said. “I agree with Mum. Please don’t make this an us versus them thing.”
“Fine. You are probably right. I am just excited. I’d like to have a house full of grandchildren someday.”
“We already have two! Slow it down,” Vanna said. “Charlotte and Leah are wonderful.”
“Maybe a boy?” Robbie said. “Even the playing field a bit.”
Vanna rolled her eyes.
“What? I am not the only one thinking it.”
“We want a girl,” Paul said.
“I honestly don’t care,” Sanne giggled. “I have no clue how to raise a boy. I’ve only been raised by women and I have nothing but nieces now. I want a happy, healthy baby. A fat one, preferably. They’re cuter.”
“Paul was a massive baby,” Vanna said. “I think you will get what you want. I will say a prayer for you. He was a challenge to deliver.”
“It was fine,” Robbie said.
“For you! You didn’t push him out, Robert!”
“Dad, this is when we ask if we should give you a shovel,” Paul chuckled.
There was a knock at the door to the drawing room.
“Yes?” Vanna called out.
“It’s just us.” Natalie and Ed arrived for dinner.
Natalie strode in first, plopping on a chair. Ed perched on the chair’s arm.
Sanne always marvelled at how he was so willingly defferential. Even Paul, with his carefree nature and acceptance of his lack of ambition, would have insisted on a seat. Ed likely expected Natalie, his smaller counterpart, to throw her weight around and take up more space. Robbie often found her challenging. He learned how to accept his daughter’s natural leadership capabilities and respect them. While her tenure as heir started rough, Robbie now looked to his daughter for advice and counsel.
“What is happening? Did you all have a good visit? Georgie said he misses us and was quite cross we didn’t come,” Natalie said.
“It was an eventful visit,” Vanna smiled broadly.
“It was good. Everyone is well. I think George’s co-dependency was on full display,” Sanne said. “He does miss you. A lot. I get it. Twinsense and all.”
“I try very much to remind him that I used to put up with not seeing him for months—even when I wasn’t deployed.”
“He’s sensitive, though. Very sensitive,” Robbie observed.
“What happened then?” Ed asked.
“Oh, um, we’re pregnant. I lost it all over their kitchen. So embarrassed.”
“She’s been under the weather. We found out while we were staying with her mums.”
Neither Ed nor Natalie acted in the expected way. Sanne saw the pain on Ed’s face. Natalie covered her dismay better, but it was palpable. She snapped into a generous smile after a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t genuine. She was fighting her real feelings. Ed eventually did the same. Both were trained to never drop the veil in public—him for work, her for life. Sanne didn’t want distress. She knew something was wrong.
“It’s wonderful news, then,” Natalie said. “Congratulations. Another nibling, Edwin. We can handle that?”
“Of course,” Ed smiled. “Good for you both. Congrats, indeed. Cheers.”
A footman reported. Dinner was ready. They entered the family dining room and Sanne made sure to change the topic at the earliest convenience. She knew something was wrong. Later, after dinner, she and Paul rode home to London. Sanne needed to explain what she saw because she suspected he thought all was well.
“Paul, your sister and Ed are going through something,” Sanne said.
“What?”
“When we told them… they were momentarily upset.”
“They weren’t. They were fine.”
“They weren’t, Paul. They put on happy faces. They didn’t want to distract from our happy news. They were being kind. Something is going on. I think they’re struggling and this was a kick in the teeth.”
“Nah. Maybe Ed just wants a baby and she’s not there yet. She said?—”
“I think it’s more than that, baby.”
“Well, we could ask?—”
“No. If it comes up organically with them, fine, but don’t pry. This is always a sore spot. You never know what they might be going through. Perhaps they just started trying and feel left out? Perhaps they have been and aren’t having any luck? You just don’t know. All I will say is let’s try to keep the baby talk… subdued.”
“That’s unfair, Sanne. To both of us.”
“Paul, I am not saying be unhappy about the baby. I couldn’t force that no matter what I tried to do. You are jumping out of your skin with anticipation. We are both happy with what is to come. And yet? I don’t think we need to rub it in their faces. That’s the reality of the situation. Just… take a step back. Think of how it would feel to be in their shoes if that were true.”
Paul took a deep breath. “I hope that isn’t the case.”
“Let’s maybe not draw attention to how easy this was, okay?”
“Good point.”
“It’s not easy for everyone, right?”
Paul nodded.
He squeezed Sanne’s knee. “I just don’t want us to feel bad about being happy.”
“I don’t see that happening,” Sanne admitted. “At all.”