Chapter 48
Luke
Before we know it, Ellora is a month old and Emmy and I are throwing a little tea party for her at mine. It was her idea, naturally, but my space is bigger and I’ve barely used it for entertaining. She couldn’t hide her delight when I offered to host, and her happiness is my happiness.
Emmy, Chloe, and Sloane declared that this would be the antithesis of the baby shower, and there’s not a balloon, a melted Mars bar, or a melon ball in sight.
Instead, there’s a generous spread of tortilla chips, guacamole, olives, cheese twists, and quiches, along with a potato salad and a bag of Haribo.
Everyone brought something and there is absolutely no culinary cohesion, which is part of the afternoon’s charm.
Chloe and Josh’s kids are running around like hooligans, hitting each other with cushions and attempting to pull open every drawer and cupboard I own. Thank God Emmy and I hid all the real toys under lock and key upstairs.
Sloane plonks a pitcher of spicy margs in the centre of the spread and declares it complete.
“Finally. A baby party with the correct ratio of carbs to tequila,” says Chloe, clinking her glass to Sloane’s.
The afternoon is loud and full of laughter, and to my great surprise, Nick does a dramatic retelling of the night he discovered Emmy and me at Salt.
Everyone’s pissing themselves laughing by the end, and Nick gives me a wide grin.
It’s taken some time and a few beers, but we’ve talked a lot since Ellora was born and we’re in a good place again now.
I think having an actual kid has given him enough perspective to stop seeing Emmy as one.
Everyone enjoys a cuddle with Ellora, who sleeps through most of it, only waking up to protest when Josh starts singing, much to everyone’s amusement.
I take a moment to stand back and soak up the scene in front of me: so many people in one place who all love each other in different ways. I swear I’m going soft.
Chloe spots me surveying the room and smirks. “Careful, Pullman. You’ve already lost all your sexy silent mystique. If you end up buying throw pillows and mismatched Oliver Bonas coasters then you’ll be just like the rest of us.”
“Ha bloody ha,” I reply.
There's a beat and Chloe turns to me, the humour fading from her expression.
“She’s really happy,” she says, looking at me before flicking her gaze over to Emmy, who’s rocking Ellora by the window.
“I hope so.”
Chloe tilts her head, appraising me. “I won’t lie, you had us worried there for a minute. But you came through for her. Don’t think she doesn’t know what that took.”
I give her a small smile.
“She’s worth everything. I know how lucky I am.”
“Don’t forget it. Because I love you Luke, but I will still bury you in the woods if you hurt her.” She smiles sweetly and I swallow.
“I’m glad she’s got you on her team, Chloe.”
“You too, Luke.” She squeezes my arm and slips past me, wrapping her arms around my girl from behind and resting her head on her shoulder. It would be a charming picture if I hadn’t just been threatened with dismemberment.
Sloane strolls past me with a plate of biscuits. “Don’t think I didn’t clock where you hid the Shibari stash,” she says, sotto voce. “You know, I might need to borrow a few lengths for… research.”
Nick shudders but Sloane just winks and disappears into the kitchen.
It’s chaos. Loud, ridiculous, borderline inappropriate, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I catch Emmy mid-laugh with Chloe and Sloane, head tipped back, eyes sparkling. I’m so far gone for her it’s almost embarrassing.
I duck into the kitchen to grab another pitcher of drinks and Emmy follows.
I turn and she slides in between me and the counter, taking the jug out of my hands and guiding them to her waist instead.
I lean down, inhaling the soft scent of her shampoo before placing a few delicate kisses in the sensitive spot below her jaw.
She hums in appreciation and pulls me in for a proper kiss.
I press her into the counter and she shifts, hopping up to sit and widening her legs to accommodate me.
It’s a stolen moment and one I never dreamed would be possible when we started our little arrangement a few months ago. I pull back as things start to get heated and she pouts but then smiles.
“You’ve put on a good party, Mr Pullman,” she murmurs, straightening out the collar of my shirt. “Have you ever considered a career in entertainment?”
She winks and I lean in, snagging her bottom lip between my teeth and nipping it lightly. Her legs wrap around me, her nails biting through my shirt. I feel myself teetering, seconds from forgetting we’re not alone, when—
“You two better not be shagging in here,” says Josh with a wicked smile, elbowing past us to get to the fridge.
“You know we can have a willing audience any night of the week?” I quip back and Josh barks out a surprised laugh.
“You’re a lot more fun now your big secret’s out,” he says. “Well, both secrets I guess.”
Given it turned out everyone found out about Salt the moment Emmy and I bumped into each other there, I’ve learned to relax into it and be more open with our friends.
My therapist tells me it’s huge progress that I’ve stopped compartmentalising all the parts of myself, and I think she’s probably right.
Not that I’m likely to break that particular news to my parents any time soon.
We follow Josh back into the party hand in hand and settle on the loveseat.
“So… have you two written a new list yet, or is that classified?” Chloe waggles her eyebrows and Emmy smirks into her margarita.
“Ha! We’ve got a few more ideas up our sleeves.” She gives Chloe a wink to raucous giggles while Nick groans like a man haunted and Priya mutters something about earmuffs for the baby.
The whole afternoon is like that: no formal speeches, no pink bunting, just loud laughter and Ellora being passed from one adoring set of arms to the next.
Every now and then, Emmy and I catch each other’s eye across the room, not in that desperate way we used to when we were keeping secrets, but with the quiet assurance that comes from knowing that we’re good.
I didn’t realise how much being honest with myself, and everyone else, would set me free.
Once everyone’s gone home, Emmy flops down next to me on the sofa.
“See?” she says, gesturing at the room with her drink. “This is how you celebrate new life. With too much guac and tequila.”
“Remind me to let you plan my next birthday,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her temple.
“Dangerous offer, Pullman,” she says with a smirk. “I’m already thinking of a theme.”
She leans against me, her soft hair tickling my jaw. Outside, the last of the afternoon light filters through the blinds, soft and golden.
A year ago, I’d never have believed I’d be happy to have my house filled with chaos and noise.
I never thought I’d fall in love again; never thought I was worthy of someone else’s love.
The last six months have taught me so much, like what it means to be honest with yourself.
What it means to be brave. And what it means to feel truly seen.
As Emmy snuggles into me, sighing contentedly, I make myself a promise: she will never again doubt how entirely, hopelessly loved she is.
And I wonder how I ever thought love was something to fear, when with her, it feels like coming home.