Chapter 31
Olivia
Am I Okay? - Megan Moroney
In Too Deep - Belinda Carlisle
December crept in without warning, and now the air feels heavier.
Thicker. Like it’s soaked in the weight of the year ending and all the quiet, creeping doubts I’ve been trying not to acknowledge.
I’ve been here almost four months. Babysitting Teddy.
Being with Sebastian. Living in this strange little pocket of a life I never expected to find, but somehow don’t want to leave.
It’s been easy, which is what scares me the most.
I can’t stop thinking about the way Teddy looked up at me and called me Mummy, so casually, like it wasn’t the most earth-shattering thing I’ve ever heard.
Now, I’m standing inside his school hall, clutching my phone like a lifeline as rows of tiny, wriggling children get shuffled into their places for their early Christmas concert.
Sebastian had to head out on a case this morning.
Three hours away, apparently. He promised he’d come as soon as he could, but warned he might be late.
So, I’m here in his place, but also because Teddy requested I be here.
That part made my heart ache the most. I find a spot near the middle of the hall, wedged between two overly enthusiastic mums wearing Santa earrings and glitter reindeer headbands.
The room smells like cheap tinsel and juice boxes.
The lights dim slightly, and the sound of nervous chatter fades as the kindergarten class takes the stage.
And there he is—front and centre. Teddy wears a crooked golden halo and a white robe two sizes too big.
His little fingers fidget with the sleeve.
He’s chewing on his thumb, eyes scanning the crowd, wild and searching.
I swear I can feel his anxiety clawing through my chest like it’s my own.
He’s not smiling. He’s frozen. Until his gaze lands on me.
He lights up like a Christmas tree.
The smallest, brightest smile curves his mouth, and his eyes lock on mine like I’m the only person in the room. I start swaying my arms gently, singing along as the music starts. He mouths the words, a beat behind the others, but he’s trying. God, he’s trying so hard.
I mouth the words with him, wave when he glances at me again, and record the whole thing, knowing it’s probably going to be shaky and useless footage, from how much I’m moving.
“You’ve got the best seat in the house,” a woman beside me says. Blonde, warm eyes, a cardigan with bells stitched into the sleeves. “Which one’s yours?”
I don’t hesitate, pointing at Teddy. “The angel in the middle. That’s him.”
Her smile softens. “Your son is adorable.”
“Thank you.” I don’t bother correcting her, and I definitely don’t even think twice about it.
I just turn back toward the stage and keep watching him.
The final song starts, and he’s still watching me, only now, his eyes linger just past my shoulder.
He blinks once. Then again, before something shifts in his expression.
I turn around, following his gaze, and realise why. Sebastian.
Leaning against the wall beneath a line of crooked paintings of elves and snowmen. He’s still in work clothes, shirt wrinkled, top button undone, face flushed. Whether it’s from running or just the sight before us, I don’t know, but he’s staring straight at us like we’re the only thing in the room.
How long has he been standing there?
I raise my hand in a small wave, heart stuttering in my chest. He winks.
And just like that, everything inside me goes quiet, and it’s suddenly too warm in here.
I look back to the stage, then down at my feet, trying to find some kind of chill that clearly doesn’t exist in my body right now.
I’m mid- when a hand brushes my arm. Sebastian’s close enough that his presence fills the space around me.
Clean soap, faint cologne, something unmistakably him.
It settles into my lungs and refuses to leave.
“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning just enough that only I can hear. “Sorry I cut it close.”
I glance up at him, my mouth tipping into a smile. “You made it. That’s what matters.”
His looks back to the stage. “He looked like he was about to bolt earlier.”
“He was like that at rehearsal too, but he’s looking much more comfortable now,” I say quietly. “Now that you’re here.”
Sebastian’s jaw softens. “Because we’re both here.”
I swallow hard, blinking back something that sneaks up behind my eyes. Before I can say anything, the same mum from earlier leans in again.
“He did so well. You can tell he was nervous, but he stuck it out. That takes guts at this age.”
“More than I had at that age,” I admit with a chuckle.
She laughs back. “My daughter’s dressed as the little sheep next to him—the one who won’t stop shaking her tambourine.”
“A future rockstar, clearly.”
She smiles before her eyes flick upwards. Up to where Sebastian stands, casually towering at my side. I don’t blame her for the pause. I know, babe. I know.
Her eyes brighten. “Oh! You must be Daddy.”
Sebastian smirks. “I am.”
“Well, you’ve got a lovely little family,” she says with a beaming smile.
I bite the inside of my cheek, and not for the first time today, I don’t correct her.
Not even with Sebastian standing right beside me.
I glance up at him, watching the faintest flicker of surprise cross his features before he tips his head politely in thanks, and then she’s off slipping toward another cluster of parents.
I rise onto my toes and whisper in his ear, “Daddy, indeed.”
He stiffens before clearing his throat, suddenly finding his cuffs very interesting.
“Behave,” he mutters quietly, but there’s no bite to it.
I drop back onto my heels and smile sweetly. “Oh, I am.”
His eyes flick sideways, landing on me with a look that promises payback, and God, I hope he follows through. After the show, parents start drifting outside, but we hang back by the doors.
When Teddy finally spots us, Sebastian’s already dropping to his level.
“You did so good, mate,” he says, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “I saw you up there.”
Teddy blinks, leaning into his side. “You saw the whole thing?”
“Every second,” Sebastian says softly. “Told you I wouldn’t miss it.”
Teddy turns to me next, eyes wide. “Was I… good?”
“Better than good.” I smile, crouching beside them. “You were brilliant. You remembered all the words!”
That earns the tiniest smile from him, and he leans in to wrap his arms around my neck in a quick squeeze that almost knocks me over. I hug him back, full and tight, still not over the fact that this tiny human called me Mummy the other day and doesn’t seem to regret it one bit.
When I stand again, Sebastian’s eyes are already on me. “Thank you,” he says quietly. No rush. No expectation. Just sincerity. “For being here.”
I nod, though part of me wishes he meant it for more than just showing up to a school concert. I wish he meant it the way I’ve been feeling lately, like I’m not just filling a gap, but becoming something else. Something real.
Before I can spiral further, he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. My face goes hot instantly, and I swear I hear someone behind us whisper something, but I don’t care. Not really.
Teddy grabs both our hands. “Can we get hot chips?”
Sebastian chuckles. “Only if Olivia says yes.”
I nod, even though my heart’s still doing laps around my chest. “Sure, kiddo. Let’s go.”
Later that night, back at home, my kitchen smells like yeast, rosemary, and comfort.
The kind that settles deep in your bones.
I’m leaning against the counter, hands dusted in flour, kneading dough that keeps sticking to my fingers while Mum pours tea into two mismatched mugs she’s had longer than I’ve been alive. She watches me over the rim of her mug.
“So,” she says lightly, “how’s it all going?”
“It’s going okay.”
She snorts. “That’s vague.” Her head tilts, eyes narrowing like she’s seeing straight through me. “Because from my end, you look exhausted. But happy. The confusing kind.”
A quiet laugh slips out of me, though I don’t deny it.
I just press my palms into the dough, grounding myself in the motion.
“It’s been… a lot,” I say eventually. “But the good kind. Can you believe I’ve been looking after Teddy for four months now?
And suddenly, it’s like everything’s shifting. Fast.”
She hums knowingly. “Let me guess. You’re waiting for the catch.”
I nod, even though the admission tastes bitter. “Yeah. I am. Because it’s been so good. With Teddy. With Sebastian.” I pause. “And I guess part of me keeps thinking… this can’t be real. Like I’m not the kind of person who gets this. Not the stuff that matters.”
My mother’s expression softens, and she sets her mug down, stepping over to help me work the dough. Her movements are easy. Familiar.
“You know,” she says, voice low, like she’s letting me in on a secret, “when I was your age, I was dating someone I thought I was going to marry.”
My hands freeze for a second. “Really?”
She nods. “He was charming. Said all the right things. But every time I looked at my life with him in it, I saw less of myself. He didn’t make me better. He made me smaller.”
That word sinks into my chest like a stone.
“Then a month later, I met your father,” she continues, glancing toward the hallway like she might summon him just by saying his name, “and everything I thought I understood about love shifted.” She lowers her voice, eyes darting to the doorway.
“Your dad doesn’t need to hear this part.
He still thinks he was my first love.” She pauses. “Well… in a way, he is, but shhh!”
A soft laugh escapes me, but it catches halfway up my throat. Because all I can think about is something else entirely.
“Teddy called me Mummy the other day,” I say suddenly, like the words have been waiting to jump out.
My breath catches, and I blink again, faster this time, but it’s useless.
The tears are already there. “And I know it probably doesn’t mean anything.
I mean, he is little, and he was tired, but God, Mum…
I really liked hearing it.” My voice breaks on the last word.
Holy shit. Why am I crying?
Before I can pretend I’m fine, Mum wraps her arms around me, tea-scented and warm. The kind of hug that makes it impossible to lie. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers, rubbing a hand over my back. “That’s not nothing.”
I nod against her shoulder, swallowing thickly. “It felt like everything. Just this one tiny word, and it undid me.”
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, her hands still on my arms. “You don’t get moments like this by accident, Liv. You don’t stumble into a little boy calling you ‘Mummy’ unless something real is happening.”
I press my palms to the counter, grounding myself.
But the doubt creeps in anyway. It always does.
“This is wrong, though, isn’t it?” I murmur.
“I should be embarrassed. It’s not like I’m his mum.
And what’s Bradley going to think? That I’ve overstepped?
That I’m playing house with his best friend and his kid like I’m some delusional babysitter? ”
Mum pulls a face. “First of all, stop that. That’s nonsense. You should never feel embarrassed for caring for someone. Ever. Especially for a little boy who clearly adores you.”
I let out a shaky exhale. “Still. Bradley’s opinion matters. It always has. I just—”
She cuts me off with a scoff. “Liv, your brother is the last person who should be telling you what to do.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” I smile despite myself, but it doesn’t change the knot in my stomach. “But the thing is, he’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
I glance down at my hands, now dusted with flour and worry. “He doesn’t know.”
She stills. “About what?”
I meet her gaze, the weight of my fear pressing hard against my ribs. “About any of it. Me. Teddy. Sebastian. The way this is starting to become… more.”
Mum takes a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is firm. “Then you’ve got a decision to make. You can let that fear keep you small, or you can lean into what this might be.”
I nod slowly, because it’s easier than finding the right words.
Easier than explaining that the problem has never been anyone else.
It’s me. It’s always been me. Standing just outside the light.
Waiting for someone else to go first. Convincing myself that the good things, the meaningful things, are meant for other people.
The truth settles heavy in my chest. I’m not scared of losing it.
As if she can hear the thought forming, Mum squeezes my hand.
“Doing things that scare us is usually where the magic lives.”
My voice cracks. “You think this might be it?”
Her hand finds mine. “I think it already is, darlin’.”