“I don’t know how you can deal with all that chaos.”
“Honestly, it’s a good break from being at home with Callie. Having a baby really is the biggest blessing, and I’m so grateful for Callie and Xav, especially after I lost Dad—but it can be a lot sometimes, you know?”
“How?” I ask, genuinely curious. Soon, this’ll be my life, too.
“It’s just a lot to juggle sometimes. Especially now that Xavier wants another baby. Bloke’s been hornier than a teenager onspring break,” she says with a sly grin. “And I’ll admit, the sex has been phenomenal, but I’m just not sure if I’m ready to dive into all that again yet.”
“Have you actually told him that?”
“Of course I have! We’re staying somewhat safe.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, I believe that.”
We turn down the freezer aisle. “Enough about me. How’ve things been with you and Harrison? You two looked downright cosy at the last get-together, like a cute, domesticated couple.”
“Domestic? Us? He’s still a pain in my ass.”
“Oh, please. I saw the way he kept checking on you, making sure you were okay. Looked like someone’s nesting to me.” She raises an eyebrow. “Are you still calling it ‘playing house,’ or is it real life now?”
I try not to let her words affect me, but it’s impossible not to think about how attentive Harrison has been lately. “He’s just… you know, being a good guy. He knows I’m in my third trimester. I think he’s more worried about me than I am.”
Isla smirks, picking up a pack of napkins. “Sure sounds like someone’s smitten. Admit it—he’s grown on you.”
“Maybe.”
“More than maybe,” she says, laughing. “I’m already picturing you guys married with a house full of little Harrisons running around.”
“God help me,” I say, shaking my head. “A house full of mini Harrisons running around? The world is not ready for that chaos.”
“Oh, come on. It doesn’t soundthatbad.” I don’t answer as we keep walking down the aisle, but I catch myself grinning like an idiot, the idea refusing to leave.
I lean against the verandah railing, the cool breeze rustling the trees below. The scent of eucalyptus drifts through the air, familiar and grounding. Dad stands next to me, adjusting his hat like he always does. His silence isn’t awkward—it never is. Just comfortable, like everything else about him.
I take a sip of my tea, the mug warming my hands, as we both stare out at the bushland stretching beyond the backyard. The sky’s turning that soft pink it gets just before dusk, and for a second, it feels like nothing’s changed. Like I’m still that kid who sat here with him every night, talking about nothing and everything.
“Miss you around here,” he says quietly, though his words carry just enough weight to hit me in the chest.
“I miss you, too.”
The words come easy because they’re true. It’s strange, trying to settle into a life without him always in reach. No more lazy chats on this verandah or quick calls to fix whatever’s gone wrong. Just me, figuring it out.
“You doing okay?” His eyes stay fixed on the horizon, but I know he’s watching, waiting.
“Yeah—”
He cuts me off, shaking his head. “Because if he’s not treating you right, you let me know. Pack your stuff, come back here. No questions.”
I smile, the warmth from the tea spreading further than it should. God, I love him. Always have. For years, I thought no man could come close. But Harrison? He’s been proving mewrong. Showing up in ways that matter. Like last week, when he sat on the floor for an hour rubbing my swollen ankles, even though it was obvious he hated every second of it. Or that time he hunted down that ridiculous ice cream flavour I couldn’t stop craving, just because. Thirty-three weeks. Not long now. This last stretch has been rough, but Harrison’sbeen there. Steady. Relentless. Just like Dad.
“He’s been a good dad,” I say quietly, staring down at my belly. “He… he treats me well.”
“Good.”
The baby suddenly kicks, a slow roll against my belly. I shift, cradling the mug closer to my chest.
“Want to feel?” I glance over at him, a grin tugging at my lips.
His eyebrows shoot up. “Sure.”