Page 133 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

Dear Willow,

We are a charity that is working to bring awareness to the impact social media has on young girls and we would love to explore with you how manipulative the influencing industry can be from both the transparency of collaborations and the pressure placed on influencers to remain on brand.

And another. And another.

Offers for collaborations with products she cared about. Ethical baby products. Makeup brands. Travel companies. And letters from fans commending her for being so vulnerable and honest about her situation.

Tears burned as she checked her social media stats. The twenty thousand followers she’d lost when the news first came out had rebounded. New followers. Fresh opinions. Looking to support her as she transitioned to a more meaningful brand.

Now, she just had to figure out what it was.

Who she was as an online presence.

The things she cared about that she wanted to highlight.

Luke closed her laptop. “You aren’t looking if it’s going to upset you.” He placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of her.

“No,” she said, opening it back up again. “It’s good. I think people understood what I was trying to say. I knew people would be puritanical, that sponsors would scurry away, and I’d be left with nothing. But instead, I’ve got offers to help people make meaningful change in the way social media affects young people.”

Luke came to sit next to her on the other kitchen stool. “That’s the best outcome, right?”

She began to add all the toppings to her oatmeal, then dumped the same on Luke’s. “It is. But I just realised something, and I feel like this might be more important.”

“I wish you’d realise I don’t like Greek yoghurt on my oatmeal.”

Willow laughed. “It’s protein and you’re a growing boy.”

He tipped his chin in the direction of her bump. “That’s the only growing boy in this house. As a grown man, I should get to eat what I want.”

“You’ll be hungry by lunch without it.”

He pulled a face like he was gagging but stirred it into the oatmeal anyway. “What was more important?”

“My initial reaction was that I should jump on the momentum. Hit all the emails, think about what my platform looks like going forward, make a plan, start making content.”

“But that’s not what you are going to do?”

“No. It’s not. I’m pregnant. And I’m going to enjoy it. And you’re home today, so I’d like to spend it with you. And perhaps have Matt and Iz over for dinner. Maybe we could start thinking about how we fit Zale in here. Or I heard from Iz that a three-bedroom down the hall from them will be available soon.”

Luke grinned. “I love all of that. I heard from Ben that a three-bedroomed end terrace near Nan’s is going up for sale. It’s not the Golden Triangle where you researched when you first got here, but it would be close to our family and has a garden.”

Willow smacked his arm. “It’s mean bringing Alderley Edge up again.”

“Oh, Luke,” he said in a high-pitched voice to mimic her. “I don’t like your place. It’s not aspirational enough. And, oh, you only have a van.”

“Urgh. I was insufferable. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

He dropped his spoon into his bowl with a clatter and turned to face her. “Because I remembered.”

“Remembered what?”

“How good it was that night in Detroit. You were just you. Your follower count didn’t impress me, but those eyes of yours were the most honest I’d ever seen. And I was just a distraction for you. A road test for the kind of guy you dreamed of dating but couldn’t because your career was all about image. But once that hotel room door closed, and it was just you and me, all those labels just fell away. It was real, that night. I was just waiting for her to reappear.”

“It was good, wasn’t it?”

“It is good, Will. It’s the fucking best. You, me, Zale, however many more kids we have because I love your pregnant body. In some ways, you are still her. The parts of you that you shared with me that night. But in so many ways, you’ve grown since you moved here. You have friends. Loyal ones. And family. Nan. Pat.”

“You’re right, but what about you? Mr. I-don’t-want-kids-so-don’t-tie-me-down.”

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