Page 46 of One Night in My Rival's Bed

‘Friends... I think...’ I bent down to pick up one of the onesies that dropped to the floor and added it back to the tower of items I was trying to juggle in my arms. How could one small baby need all this stuff? I tried to think of the last time I had held a baby, but I couldn’t remember doing so since I was a teenager. Now all I could think about was holding one of my own. Why was I torturing myself with these thoughts? It was pointless. Grayson was not going to change his mind. He had made his position crystal-clear, and I had to put my big girl panties on and accept it.

Niamh started sorting through some christening outfits hanging on a rack. ‘Ethan and I have tweaked a few of our ideas for our house. Maybe you and Grayson could get together soon to go over them.’ She glanced at me over her shoulder and added, ‘Or will that be too awkward for you now you’re only...friends?’

I fashioned my lips into a confident smile, but it was totally at odds with how I was feeling. I didn’t know how I was going to be in the same room as Grayson without wanting to touch him. How could I work alongside him for months and not embarrass myself by begging him to reconsider?

‘It won’t be a problem.’

Niamh selected a long white, beautifully embroidered christening gown and held it up for me to see. ‘What do you think?’

I reached out and touched the finely embroidered fabric, thinking of the little person who would wear it in a few months’ time—my niece or nephew. It looked like a family heirloom, the sort of gown generations of babies could wear. Would I ever have a baby to wear it? Or would I always feel this crushing sense of loneliness and emptiness because the only man I could ever love didn’t love me back?

‘It’s gorgeous.’

She lowered the gown to look directly at me. ‘Ethan and I want you and Grayson to be our baby’s godparents.’

I tried not to show my sense of unease. Not because I didn’t want to be a godparent—it was an incredible honour, and I wouldn’t dream of declining. But it would be yet another permanent connection with Grayson. How was I going to avoid him when there would be so many events where we would both be present?

‘Oh, that’s so lovely of you both. I’d be honoured, of course.’

Niamh beamed and added the christening gown to the pile of clothes I was already balancing in my arms. ‘That’s settled then. Now, let’s have tea and cake.’

I know what you’re thinking. I don’t drink tea, right? But guess what? Ever since I broke up with Grayson, I haven’t been able to bring myself to drink coffee. I can’t even bear the smell because it reminds me too much of him.

Speaking of smells—I still have his handkerchief. I know I can get a little preachy about always returning things you’ve borrowed but I kept hold of Grayson’s handkerchief, even though I’d had numerous opportunities to return it before I ended our fling. I’d washed and ironed it and now I kept it under my pillow. I find myself reaching for it each night, clutching it in my hand like a child clutches a favourite toy. Pathetic, right?

The following Friday I went straight home after work rather than join my team for end-of-the-week drinks. I wasn’t in the mood for socialising, and I found it hard to make small talk because my life was so boring compared to everyone else’s. All I did these days was work and exercise. Okay, I lied about the exercise. If you can call running ten metres along the platform to catch the Tube three mornings this week exercise, well, I tick the box. The other thing I hated when going out was seeing all the other couples. It was like rubbing rock salt into the open wound of my broken heart. Why was everyone so damn happy when I was so utterly miserable?

I picked at some leftovers for dinner but ended up pushing it away with a sigh. I surfed the streaming platforms on my smart television but, in spite of the huge number of options, nothing appealed to me in this bleak mood.

I sat on my window seat and looked at the street below. More couples walking hand in hand, families taking the kids and the dog for a walk. A young couple taking their baby for a stroll in one of those old-fashioned prams with large springs and shiny spoked wheels. And elderly couple walking hand in hand. A tall dark-haired man with a slight limp, carrying a bunch of flowers, walking on his own...

I sat upright, my eyes narrowing to focus on that all too familiar figure. My mouth dried, my stomach flip-flopped, my pulse hammered.

The man looked up and locked gazes with me and my heart went into arrythmia. He gave a slow smile and I rose from the seat on legs as unsteady as a newborn foal’s. It could only have been seconds before my doorbell rang but it felt like a decade.

I took a calming breath, not wanting to get ahead of myself, but it was hard to control the leaping of my pulse and the balloon of hope rising in my chest. I opened the door and Grayson Barlowe was standing there with a beautiful bunch of sweet peas in his hand.

‘Hi...’ I said, my nerves making my voice sound gruff rather than welcoming.

‘Hi. May I come in?’ His eyes had a light in them I had not seen before. A light that sparkled and shone and made him seem younger and less burdened than he had been in the past.

‘Sure.’ I stepped back and he came through the door, bringing his alluring scent with him, sending me into an instant swoon.

Grayson handed me the fragrant sweet peas. ‘These are for you.’

‘Thank you.’ I took them from him and buried my face in the colourful sweet-smelling blooms. ‘Mmm...these are my absolute favourite.’ I raised my gaze to his. ‘A lucky guess?’

His wry smile made my heart skip a beat. ‘Niamh happened to mention you like them.’

‘Come through,’ I said with an on-off smile. ‘I’ll put these in some water.’

He followed me into my kitchen and I made a business of finding a vase, filling it with water and arranging the sweet peas. I was aware of him watching me the whole time, but I tried not to show how much his presence affected me.

‘So, have Ethan and Niamh mentioned the godparent thing?’ I asked, placing the vase of sweet peas in the middle of the kitchen table.

‘Yes.’

I turned to look at him. ‘It’s a big honour. I’ve never been one before, have you?’

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