Epilogue #2
“Pregnancy is a natural, physiological state,” I told her. “It does not require special treatment. Just because my feet are sore due to the large nature of my baby does not mean…” I broke off as Mike simply picked me up. “What are you doing?”
He frowned down at me. “Getting you off your feet.”
Then he turned around and walked out of the office with me in his arms as if I weighed nothing at all, which was very much not the case.
“You are extremely bossy,” I said without heat as I settled my face into his neck and inhaled his woodsy Mike smell.
“I know, baby,” he muttered as he leaned around to call the lift.
I really was tired, though, so as ridiculous as it was to be carried around when you were a grown woman growing another human inside you, I decided to let it go.
“Let’s get you to the Land Rover, and you can sleep on the way home to the cabin. ”
I smiled against his neck as he walked us into the lift and the doors shut behind us. “I love the cabin,” I said sleepily.
His arms gave me a squeeze. “I know you do, love.”
“Mike?”
“Yes?”
“Do you really think I should just be me?”
“Of course I do, love.”
“What if unfiltered me is too much?” I voiced my fear in a small voice.
“We love you, Vicky,” Mike said firmly. “The real you is never going to be too much for us. So what if some people don’t understand you? Fuck em. Best to be yourself, love. Everyone else is taken.”
2 years later…
Mike
“Harding, there’s a small child on a pony in my front garden… again,” I said into the phone as I stared out of my window.
“Thank Christ for that,” Ollie said in relief. “We’ve been looking everywhere.”
“She’s three years old, mate,” I told him as I watched said three-year-old trot up to my back door. “How does she keep giving you the slip?”
“She’s no normal three-year-old,” Ollie muttered darkly as a small fist started pounding at my door.
At the sudden noise, a load of barking erupted from the sofa, and I glanced over just in time to see Bilbo struggling his way out of Vicky’s arms, where moments ago he’d been peacefully lying.
Laughing, Vicky negotiated around her huge stomach to gently put the fat, golden retriever puppy on the floor, and he shot off towards the door.
I sighed into the phone.
“Your daughter has woken up my pregnant wife.” I was not happy to have my Sunday, or Vicky’s much needed nap with our new puppy interrupted.
Vicky rolled her eyes at me.
“I’m fine,” she said, then, “Hello, Ollie,” as she passed me to the door.
Bilbo had already collided with the wood and was scratching to get to the little girl on the other side.
Margot junior was waiting with open arms to receive the excited puppy as soon as Vicky opened the door. The fat pony with her pushed past the child and dog bundle before strutting right into my bloody kitchen.
“Hello, Margot,” Vicky said with a smile, as if a pony and small child making themselves at home in our house was perfectly normal. Which, in our crazy life, was a pretty accurate assessment.
There were advantages and disadvantages to living this close to your friends and family.
They all commuted now. Felix and Vicky’s company was so successful that they could call the shots with their investors anyway.
This included no more business wear for Vicky.
If she did have to go up to London, she’d be in leggings and soft jumpers, and nobody said a word.
Vicky had become much better at advocating for herself. She had confidence now that she never had before. And she no longer shied away from labels.
She didn’t mind being different, being an outlier.
Often, she even leaned into it when it gave her an edge in business.
“Okay, Legolas,” she said to the pony, who was shoving her leg with his nose.
“Hey!” I shouted at the furry little bastard. “Stop shoving my wife.”
Vicky just grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and gave it to Legolas, who snorted again before trotting away to flop down on the rug we had in front of the sofa.
“Get this pony out of here!” I said to Ollie through gritted teeth.
“I’m on my way to get Margot. If you want Legolas removed, you’ll have to speak to your sister. You know that little shit hates me.”
He hung up on me, and I growled as I shoved my phone into my back pocket.
Vicky waddled over to the door and shut it behind Margot, who was now standing with the squirming puppy in her arms.
“Margot Harding,” I said sternly, and she scowled at me. “You ran away again.”
“I needs to see the puppy,” she said in a stubborn voice. “I only had one cuddle with him yesterday. Henry, Bea and Theo got loads more cuddles than me.”
I rubbed my hands down my face.
“Well, that sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” said Vicky.
“Vics, she ran away.”
“Whilst that’s not ideal, the disparity of the puppy cuddle situation does sound unfair.”
Vicky moved over to the sofa and then sat down with Margot and Bilbo.
Legolas moved over to rest his head on her lap, and Bilbo lay across both Vicky and Margot’s laps with his paws in the air, accepting tummy scratches.
I sighed. “You’re not going anywhere, are you Margot?”
“No, Uncle Mike,” Margot said seriously. “I has to be with the puppy.”
“Fine,” I said in a resigned voice, pulling my phone out.
Within minutes of me posting my grumpy WhatApp message on the family group for someone to come and claim one pony and one small child, arrangements had apparently been made for a Sunday roast at my house, followed by croquet on Buckingham Manor’s lawn.
Then I heard a small cry from the monitor.
I looked over to Vicky, who still had the dog and little girl snuggled into her side on the sofa.
“I’ll get her,” I muttered, moving across the space to the ground-floor extension I’d built two years ago.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I said with a smile at my daughter.
She was standing in her cot, her blonde hair all over the place, her big blue eyes blinking at me, and a big gummy smile on her face. “Finished your nap?”
“Go-Go!” she shouted, and I rolled my eyes.
Of course that was what had woken her up.
Harriet loved Margot.
“Come on then, you,” I said softly, picking her up and kissing her hair as she snuggled into my neck, just like her mother.
As I carried her out to the living area, I glanced at my phone—as predicted, the WhatsApp was going crazy.
“Ugh! What if I wanted a quiet Sunday with my family?” I grumbled, frowning over at Margot, who was in my rightful spot.
“Go-Go!” shouted Harriet, stretching out her arms for Vicky and Margot.
“You’d think that those buggers would take a hint seeing as we live in the middle of a bloody forest.” I stomped over to the sofa and raised my eyebrows. “Come on then, shift up, you lot.”
The three of them moved up the sofa, and I slipped in next to Vicky and pulled her into my side.
Harriet clambered over her mum, allowing a quick kiss and a cuddle before tucking herself between Vicky, Margot and Bilbo.
I kissed the top of Vicky’s head, and she let out a sigh.
The girls giggled together, alternating between playing with the squirming puppy and “listening to the baby” with their ears pressed against Vicky’s stomach.
“Your mum is just worried that I’m not eating enough.”
I grunted. “You’ve been much better for the last month. That’s just an excuse.”
The first trimester of Vicky’s pregnancy had been just horrendous, which was a shock, as she hadn’t had morning sickness with Harriet. It had been a struggle for her to keep anything down, and she nearly had to go into hospital.
As always, when I was overwhelmed, I called Mum, and, as always, she turned things around. Mum’s homemade ginger biscuits and peppermint tea were often the only things Vicky could tolerate.
Margot senior was furious that Hetty had succeeded where she had failed, and so once Vicky was better, she turned up at the house with Bilbo, and so the game of trumping each other in terms of best grandmother continued.
Even on the WhatsApp now, war was breaking out over who was going to bring the roast potatoes, and whether Lucy’s Yorkshire puddings were better than Lottie’s. Personally, I hope Mum took over the Yorkshires—neither my sister nor Lottie made them soggy enough for my liking.
I huffed. “She doesn’t think I look after you properly.”
Vicky laughed. “You know she does, she’s just…”
“An overbearing, interfering pain in the arse?”
“She’s just wonderful,” whispered Vicky, and I let out a long sigh.
Okay, so maybe having overly involved family and friends who weren’t too hot on boundaries wasn’t that bad.
Not if it made my wife smile like that.
Thank you so much for reading Outlier.
Susie’s Book Badgers
My next book, Law Maker – a romance featuring a billionaire single dad and his son’s shy teacher – is available for pre-order on Amazon now. Read on for an excerpt after the Author’s note: