Page 83 of So Thrilled For You

‘Cry it out?’

‘No! Just help teach him how to sleep. And he would’ve if Steffi hadn’t . . .’

Steffi shakes her head. ‘I’m not going to apologise for tending to a screaming baby. I know you guys don’t think it, but I am actually human! Just ’cos I don’t want babies myself doesn’t mean I’m some uncaring bitch. Do you not remember my mum? Have you forgotten how fucking caring I am – literally? I’m sorry Lauren, but he was inconsolable. I couldn’t leave him. I don’t know how you could.’

They’re blocking my way. I don’t understand how anything extra can be happening now when already too much is happening. My womb aches and I lean over. I can’t stop staring at Woody. At this beautiful miracle being rocked in Lauren’s arms. Does she have any idea how lucky she is? How vulnerable and tender he is?

‘I can’t believe you can let your baby cry,’ I tell her. ‘How? I don’t understand.’

‘Oh don’t you go judging me too.’

‘You? Of all people? Doing controlled crying?’

‘Charlotte, stop it. Please. You can’t possibly understand—’

‘The research about controlled crying is mixed,’ I interrupt her. I need Lauren to understand how precious Woody is. How lucky she is. He should be treated like the miracle he is. If I ever . . . If the world ever gives me a baby . . . I will hug it every second of the day. I’ll co-sleep. I’ll do all the wakes. I’ll enjoy all the wakes because it’s time with my baby. Oh, why won’t the world let me have a baby and then lets Lauren have one, when she’s happy to let them scream themselves to sleep? It’s not fair. ‘Lauren, you can’t trust these sleep consultants.’ I start parroting what I’ve read online, because of course I’ve googled it to death, alongside best breastfeeding positions, and the Montessori method, and baby first aid videos, and Wonder Weeks – all preparing to be the best mother ever except today is ruined and now I’m never going to get a chance ‘You need to be careful,’ I say. She needs to understand what a risk she’s taking. One I’d never take, no matter how exhausted I was. ‘It could really impact Woody’s attachment. It’s not learning how to self-soothe, it’s learnedhelplessness.The baby only goes quiet after controlled crying because they give up hope of being rescued and wants to preserve their energy because they feel abandoned and that they’re about to die and—’

‘Shut up,’ Lauren screams at me. ‘Shut up, shut up, shut up.’

Woody starts wailing again, and I hear footsteps on the stairs behind me.

Nicki

My waters almost break. What’s Matt doing here? He’s watching Wimbledon all day at the pub. He’s not here at my parents’ house – ‘The Museum of Unhappiness’ as he calls it. I physically push Phoebe back the second I see him, so much that she stumbles, but it’s too late. ‘Matt,’ I say, guilt lining my throat. ‘It’s not what it . . . I didn’t. What are you doing here?’

Is he going to explode? Or cry? Or what? For a moment or two, he seems as confused about his expected behaviour as I am. He keeps shaking his head, looking at me, our bump, at Phoebe . . .

‘Today’s not just a baby shower,’ he informs me. Going for the facts first, before the emotion, maybe while he decides what emotion he’s feeling. ‘Charlotte and I have been planning a special surprise.’ His eyes land on Phoebe again and they narrow. When we decided to mend things, he insisted we go on my social media and unfriend her, out of respect. Now he’s seeing her without pixels for the first time. ‘And yet I’m the surprised one.’ He points between us. ‘What’s going on here?’

Phoebe stands in front of me protectively and I get a flash of the tattoo on her neck.

‘Nothing. We were just talking. Is that not allowed?’

‘No,’ Matt says simply. ‘Not with you, it’s not. Not after you two had an affair.’

She scoffs. ‘Hardly an affair.’

‘I think I’m the one who gets to decide what counts. Me and my wife. Who chose me by the way,’ he adds. ‘Despite your underhand efforts to undermine our marriage . . . her sexuality.’

Phoebe scoffs again. ‘What do you know about her sexuality?’

Matt laughs and shakes his head with his hands either side of it. When he looks up at me, I see such intense hurt and anger, that I know he’s saving a lot of face in front of Phoebe. ‘There’s a baby in her stomach,’ he replies. ‘My baby. Guess how it got in there.’

‘Matt?’ I yelp, stroking my stomach to try and calm the baby down. ‘I’m sorry. I know what it looks like. But we really have just been talking. Charlotte invited her. She obviously doesn’t know.’

‘And you decided to come, did you? Thought that would be appropriate?’

Phoebe crosses her arms, revealing another tattoo – the one of the Deathly Hallows on her wrist that she now regrets. ‘She chose you,’ she sounds almost bored. ‘As you say, look at her stomach. If you guys were as strong as you say, this shouldn’t bother you.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. You know it’s not about that. It’s about respect.’ Matt’s temper spills a drop or two on the steps. ‘You’re showing no respect for me by showing up here. And none for Nicki either. Who you claim to love still, I bet? Is that why you came? To tell her that? When she’s heavily pregnant and emotional and quite far into this decision to not be with you? Have you even thought about what this means for Nicki? How it might feel for her? Ahh, no. Of course. ’Cos you’re only interested in yourself.’ Sweat’s beading on his forehead and he wipes it with the back of his hand. I can’t believe he’s defending me. Love rises in me like soufflé. He’s right. Phoebe coming today isn’t good for me. It feels good, like it always does with her, but, I am heavily pregnant. She knows this is a headfuck.

‘Can you please leave now?’ He asks, award-winningly calm, standing aside and gesturing out. ‘I need to talk to my wife.’

‘You can’t just ask me to leave.’ She twists around. ‘Nicki?’

She’s asking me to what? Fight for her? Here? At my baby shower? With my guests inside? Why did she come here? What did she expect from me?

‘Phoebe I do think it’s better you go,’ I say, watching each word land on her face and make craters. Matt and I are one, a team, about to become parents together. He’s here, defending me even when I’ve let him down. I made a choice. I have to stick to it, and I literally can’t back-out anyway. I can feel the consequences of my decision literally kick me in the guts, reminding me of the path I chose and therefore the other paths I need to let go of.

---