CHAPTER TWENTY #2
A small, reluctant breath leaves me, and before I can overthink it, I head inside. The bell above the café door chimes and warmth wraps around me instantly, along with the rich scent of coffee.
Sofia watches me the entire way over. I slow as I reach her table, suddenly unsure what to say, what I must look like right now.
She tilts her head, eyes scanning my face. “You look like you’ve just walked out of a war zone,” she says bluntly.
I let out a breath that almost turns into a laugh, dropping into the seat opposite her. “Close enough.”
She nods to the waitress behind the till. “Another coffee, please.”
“Decaf,” I cut in. “What are you doing in here?”
She smiles, sipping her own coffee. “I love sitting here, people watching,” she says, shrugging. “It’s my happy place.”
“I need to find myself one of those,” I mutter, and when she arches a brow, I add, “A happy place.”
“Things not going well?”
I scoff. “Understatement.”
The waitress places a coffee in front of me and I smile gratefully.
“What’s he done now?” Sofia asks.
“He took me baby shopping,” I reply. I take a sip of coffee and close my eyes as the bitter taste lights up my soul. “Ray insisted I drink decaf,” I add thoughtfully. “Yet even when he’s not here, I still do it. That’s the kind of shit he puts in my head, and I don’t even realise it.”
She watches me for a minute, her brows knitted together like she’s working out the best way to say something.
I groan. “Just say it.”
A smile plays on her lips. “I’m just trying to work out what Ray did wrong. You said he took you shopping?”
“Baby shopping,” I correct.
“And that’s awful because . . .”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “I don’t know.”
“Start at the beginning.”
I drag my hands away and look her in the eye. “It’s not me,” I state. “Harrods. A personal shopper. It’s just not me.”
She nods like she understands. “Did you tell him?”
“I didn’t get a chance. He was too busy talking pushchairs specs with his personal shopper, who hung off his every word.
” I shake my head, anger creeping up my spine.
“I must have looked like an idiot. I didn’t even know about car seat bases or that pushchairs have suspension.
” She gently places her hand over mine. “But Ray did,” I tell her. “He’s really done his research.”
“So, are you mad because the shop assistant flirted or because he researched?”
I clench my jaw whilst I think over her words. “Honestly, I don’t know. It all just felt . . . too much. I haven’t even had a chance to look at any of the stuff I need, and Ray was there listing it like he’s doing this alone.”
“I can see why that’d piss you off,” she agrees.
“And after overhearing his conversation with Vinn . . .” I trail off, shrugging. “I feel like he’s doing it without me and I’m just his . . .vessel.”
“Did you talk to him about what we overheard?”
I shake my head. “No, not really. We skirt around each bad thing said and carry on as normal.” I groan again. “I’m so tired of feeling like this. I don’t trust him. I can’t relax. And just when I think I can, something else happens and I’m right back here.”
She takes my hand in hers and fixes me with a stare that says she’s about to be straight. “Talk to him, Wynter. And I don’t mean yell. I mean talk about how you’re feeling. Because of he doesn’t know, how can he change?”
I scoff. “Change? You think a man like that will change for me?”
Her brows knit together. “What do you mean?” I shrug, and she sighs heavily. “We talked about this. He’s lucky to have you. You’ve more than good enough, Wynter. And you’re having a child together. Now, go and talk to him.”
By the time I step back out onto the busy street, Ray’s been blowing up my phone nonstop. When it rings again in my hand, I finally answer.
“Where the fuck are you?” he snaps. “I’m going out of my mind here.”
“I was having coffee with Sofia,” I reply calmly.
I hear his sharp intake of breath. “Seriously? You think it’s okay to just disappear without so much as a fucking word?” His voice rises with every word.
“Well, you seemed occupied.”
“Buying things for our baby.”
“Oh, our baby,” I repeat with a scoff. “Now, it’s our baby.”
A beat of silence follows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I sigh heavily, stepping around a couple pushing a pram. “It means you acted like a single parent back there, Ray.”
“What?” he barks. “You were standing right beside me, Wynter.”
“Beside you or behind you?”
Silence.
Then, he growls in frustration. “Where are you? I’m not doing this over the phone.”
I glance across the road, spotting a small street market opposite Frank’s Café. “There’s a market across from the café.”
“Yeah, I know it. I’ll be two minutes,” he mutters before disconnecting.
I shove my phone into my bag and cross the road.
The first stall I come to is covered in baby clothes. Tiny sleepsuits sway lightly in the breeze, soft fabrics in creams, whites, and pale yellows folded into neat little piles. My chest tightens unexpectedly as I reach out, pinching one of the sleeves between my fingers.
I still can’t quite believe there’ll soon be someone small enough to fit inside these.
“What are you after?” the woman behind the stall asks with a smile.
I shrug. “Honestly? I’m not really sure.”
She grins knowingly. “First baby?”
I nod. There’s no judgement in her expression. No fake politeness. Just warmth.
“Well,” she says, pushing herself to her feet, “let me give you one piece of advice. Don’t go mad buying outfits.”
I laugh softly. “Really?”
“Oh, they’re adorable,” she says, waving a hand over the tiny clothes, “but what you actually need are these.” She points towards a stack of long-sleeved sleepsuits.
“And plenty of these.” This time she gestures to short-sleeved bodysuits.
“A few cute outfits for showing the baby off, and the rest just needs to be practical.”
I glance down at the tiny clothes again. “You make it sound a lot simpler than everyone else does.”
The woman chuckles. “Six children, love. I’ve learned there’s a difference between what babies need and what people try to sell you.”
Something in my chest loosens slightly. “I don’t even know the sex yet,” I admit, picking up a pale pink outfit.
They’d given me regular scans in the hospital, but I’d been too out of it to show much interest.
“Then stick to white,” she says immediately. “Once baby’s here, you can always add pink or blue cardigans.”
I smile. “That’s actually a really good idea.”
“There you are.”
I turn at the sound of Ray’s voice.
He’s standing a few feet away, his chest rising harder than usual, and his eyes locked on me. Relief flashes across his face so quickly I almost miss it. Then it’s gone. Replaced by irritation.
I turn back to the stall before he can start.
“I’ll take seven of the long-sleeved ones,” I tell the woman, picking up a cream sleepsuit. “And seven of the short-sleeved bodysuits too.”
“Good choice,” she says approvingly.
My eyes drift over the display again before landing on a tiny, knitted cardigan hanging from a hook. It’s soft lemon wool with tiny pearl buttons, clearly hand knitted.
“I’ll take this too,” I say quietly, reaching out to touch it.
The woman smiles as she takes it down. “This one’s beautiful.”
Behind me, I hear Ray exhale impatiently. “We could’ve gotten all this in Harrods,” he mutters.
I ignore him completely.
“How many blankets would you recommend?” I ask instead.
The woman starts folding the sleepsuits neatly. “Three or four to begin with. Trust me, babies go through more washing than you can imagine.”
I laugh softly. “That many?”
“Oh, love, you’ll learn quickly.” She glances at my stomach fondly. “Muslins too. Buy loads of muslins. You’ll never regret those.”
I nod seriously, like she’s sharing some ancient wisdom. Behind me, Ray shifts his weight again.
“We already bought blankets,” he says flatly.
I glance over my shoulder. “You bought blankets.” His jaw tightens.
The woman pretends not to notice the tension, calmly packing the clothes into tissue paper. “Sometimes it’s nicer picking things yourself,” she says lightly.
I could kiss her. “That’s exactly it,” I murmur.
Once everything’s wrapped, she gives me the total, and I pull my purse from my bag.
Ray immediately reaches for his wallet. “I’ve got it,” he says.
“No,” I reply, already taking out my card.
His brows pull together. “Wynter—”
“I said no.”
A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, but I tap the machine with my card before he can argue further. The transaction goes through quickly.
As she passes me the bags, the woman slips a business card inside one of them. “I’ve got an online shop too,” she says warmly. “If you need help with anything else, just send me a message. I’m always happy to help first-time mums.”
Something about the way she says it makes my chest ache a little less. I like that she doesn’t push or over-sell.
I smile properly this time. “Thank you. I’ll definitely be in touch.”
“Good luck, sweetheart,” she says gently.
I nod, clutching the small bags to my chest before finally turning back to Ray. He’s watching me carefully now but looking less angry, and more . . .confused.
I shift the bags higher on my arm, meeting Ray’s stare head-on.
“We need to talk.”
His jaw flexes slightly, like he’s preparing for a fight. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “We do.”
For a second, neither of us moves. The noise of the market carries on around us with people talking, and traffic crawling past, but it all feels distant compared to the tension stretched tight between us.
Then my phone rings. I glance down at the screen to see Aunt Lucy’s name flashing.
A small knot forms in my stomach. “Hi,” I say as I press the mobile to my ear.
“Well, you sound thrilled to hear from me,” Aunt Lucy replies dryly.
Despite everything, a small smile tugs at my mouth. “Is everything okay?”
“I know I’m not due until tomorrow.” There’s a pause. “But I thought I’d come check my favourite girl hadn’t murdered anyone yet.”
My eyes flick briefly to Ray.
“Tempting,” I mutter.
“Hmm. So, I was right to worry.” I hear movement on her end of the call before she continues, “Anyway, where are you? I’m currently standing in the casino lobby being stared at by several large men who look like they bury bodies for a hobby.”
I close my eyes briefly, if only she knew how close she was to that truth. “You’re here?” I ask. “Right now?”
“Yes, Wynter, hence why I said I’m a day early.”
I huff out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “I’ll head back now, give me ten.”
“Great. I thought we could get some food together?”
“Sounds perfect.”
The call disconnects and I lower my phone slowly.
Ray’s watching me. “What now?”
“My aunt’s here,” I say, adjusting the bags again. “A day early.”
“Perfect timing,” he mutters.
“She’s waiting at the casino,” I continue. “So . . . this conversation will have to wait.”
Something unreadable crosses his face at that, disappointment maybe. But he nods. “Fine.”
By the time we arrive back at the casino, my feet are throbbing.
The second we step through the doors, I spot Aunt Lucy perched on one of the bar stools like she owns the place, chatting animatedly with two members of staff behind the bar.
One of them is laughing so hard he nearly drops a glass.
She looks completely at home already.
“—and then I told him if he tried flirting with me again, I’d report him to his mother,” she says as we approach.
The bartender grins. “Bit harsh.”
“I’m a delight once people earn it.”
Her eyes flick up then, landing on me instantly. Her entire face softens. “Oh, sweetheart.”
She’s off the stool before I can blink, pulling me into a hug so tight I nearly lose hold of the shopping bags.
“There’s my girl,” she murmurs, holding me at arm’s length afterwards. Her eyes sweep over my face carefully, checking for damage only she can apparently see. “You look tired.”
“I’m pregnant,” I remind her.
“And he’s stressing you out,” she replies immediately, shooting a look past me towards Ray.
His expression flattens.
Lucy’s gaze drops to the bags hanging from my wrists. “And why exactly are you carrying those?”
Before I can answer, she reaches over and lifts one slightly. “Jesus Christ, Wynter. What’s in here, bricks?” I roll my eyes at her exaggeration.
Ray steps forward, taking the bags from me without a word.
“As I thought,” Lucy mutters. “Completely useless.”
“Nice to see you too, Lucy,” Ray says dryly.
She looks him up and down. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”
I bite back a sigh as Ray’s jaw tightens.
Lucy, however, seems entirely unbothered by the tension she creates. She loops her arm through mine instead. “Right, I’m starving. The food on the train looked like someone had already chewed it.”
I laugh quietly. “We can eat here if you want. My feet are killing me.”
“That’s because you’re carrying shopping bags while mister personality walks around glaring at the world.”
“Your niece is stubborn,” Ray mutters. “She wouldn’t let me take them.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Lucy fires back.
I close my eyes briefly. “Lucy,” I warn.
“What?” she asks innocently. “I’m only saying what he already knows.” Ray lets out a humourless laugh as Lucy turns back to me. “And I’d rather it was just us for lunch so we can talk.”
The words land exactly how she intends them to. A beat of silence follows. Then Ray nods once. “Fine.”
He passes the bags to one of the staff members before turning to the bar manager. “Get them the best table in the restaurant,” he says calmly. “And everything goes on the house.”
“Of course, sir.”
Lucy looks thoroughly unimpressed. “Oh good,” she says flatly. “Free food. That totally makes up for everything.”
“Lucy,” I hiss.
“What? I’m still deciding whether I hate him or just strongly dislike him.”
Ray drags a hand over his jaw. “I’ll be in my office,” he says, his eyes settling on me. “Come find me when you’re done eating.” There’s something restrained in his voice now. Like he’s still angry, or maybe he’s tired of this struggle we seem to keep finding ourselves in too.
I nod slowly. “Okay.”
Lucy waits until he disappears towards the private elevators before muttering, “Well. He somehow became even grumpier.”
And despite myself, I laugh.