Everything feels so up in the air. One minute I’m convinced he’ll choose to give it all up just for the chance to see Isabella and Madison again, and the next I’m hoping he’ll realise that I’m carrying his biological child and he has a duty to talk it through. But he has competing priorities now: the twins, the possibility of expanding his music career…
Another week begins, and my hopes fall further and further. I start considering how I can possibly care for a newborn, a six-year-old, and still keep my business afloat. I need to figure out if I can afford to hire someone to oversee everything, at least part-time.
It’s a rainy Monday morning when I arrive home from dropping Daisy at school and find Lincoln sitting on my doorstep, dripping wet.
I’m annoyed at myself because the first thing I think is how hot he looks, droplets of water trickling off his curls, his black T-shirt clinging to his chest.
My pulse quickens as I approach. He stands up, looking just as nervous as I feel.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey.” I’m not going to give him anything until he makes the first move.
“You look great,” he says.
I self-consciously smooth down my hair, which is now starting to fade. I’ve decided to lay off the fluorescent hair colour for the rest of my pregnancy. I know the science isn’t conclusive regarding any possible effects it may have on the baby, but I figure my head can use a break anyway.
“Thanks,” I say neutrally.
He briefly looks at my belly, which is still flat. I know with Daisy I didn’t really start to show until around four or five months, and then I suddenly looked like I had a basketball under my clothes.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. He makes no attempt to come inside, and I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing.
“I’m okay. Feeling a little nauseated, but mostly okay.” I point to the front door. “Do you want to come in?”
“Only if that’s all right with you?”
“Sure.”
I head inside, letting him follow. I don’t offer any information from my end. He needs to do some talking first.
I head to the kitchen and heat up some water to make myself a cup of tea. “Do you want anything?” I ask.
“No, thanks.”
He doesn’t look like he knows whether to sit down or hover, so he leans against the kitchen counter while I prepare a teabag in a cup.
We briefly make eye contact, and he smiles weakly. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“At the beginning?”
“You’re right. Okay, so I wanted to give you that space you asked for, but it was just so damn hard. I picked up my phone a dozen times a day to call you, but I thought if you asked me to leave you alone, it was for a reason. And I appreciate why you did. It gave me some time to sort out stuff, too.”
“You mean mentally?”
“Well, yeah, but also in a practical sense. I flew to the UK after you told me the news.”
My stomach drops. I gave him too much space, and now he’s worked things out with Rachel and he’s here to tell me he’s not interested in seeing our child.
He sees my expression and looks appalled. “Wait, no. This is all good. Please let me explain.”
My breathing slows a little.
“I went over there because I needed to see the girls and make sure they were okay. I wasn’t able to do that before, because I was under contract for the tour. But oh God, Tash, it was next to impossible to see them again, and then leave.”
“How was Rachel?” I ask casually.
“Not easy to deal with, I have to say. But she did seem happier than when we were together. I don’t think I ever realised how much she missed her family. Over the years, she mentioned wanting to visit them more often, but we never really had the money. I was hoping that if I won Sing to Me, I could pay for a big extended trip for us all to go. As it was, she’d secretly been hiding money away without telling me, which is how she was able to afford it when she took the girls. But after seeing her again, I realised I was never really happy. I loved the idea of us, but the reality was hard. We had nothing in common—at least not in recent years—and she was too good at keeping secrets.”
I finish making my tea and take a sip. I stay quiet, letting him finish what he needs to say.
“But you know, whenever I think of you, I feel calm and happy. And I have never once doubted your sincerity. I know the day you told me about the pregnancy, I asked you to confirm whether the baby was mine, but I wasn’t really asking because I was worried you were lying. I just needed to hear it a few times to let it sink in.”
My heart softens a little. “I know this must be really difficult on you, but just so you know, I don’t expect anything. I’ll cope if you decide this isn’t something you want to be part of.”
He comes over to my side of the counter and grabs my hands. “I do want to be part of this. I know it’s insanely soon, but I want us to make this work. I really want to be around for this baby. And for you.”
My stomach fills with butterflies. “You do?”
“Yes! I’m not a casual hookup kind of guy. When I invited you to Sydney, it was because I wanted to get to know you better. And while I was only just getting over Rachel, it never once impacted how I felt about you.”
“But bringing a baby into this…”
“I know. It’s going to be hard. We won’t have that long to get to know each other properly before he or she arrives, but we’ll just deal with the situation we have.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Oh, but first, I need to tell you something that happened in London.”
The butterflies scatter. I feel like I’m getting emotional whiplash the way my mood is flying back and forth. My first instinct is to think that even though he just said he’s not a casual hookup kind of guy, he’s about to admit he got drunk one night and slept with some random woman over there.
“What happened in London?”
“I convinced Rachel to let me bring the girls back to Australia for a few weeks several times a year. And once they start school, it will be most holidays.”
He looks at me guardedly, waiting for my reaction.
“Oh! Wow! That’s amazing news!”
He smiles the first genuinely happy smile I have seen from him in ages.
“You’re okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. Because it makes things even crazier?”
“Lincoln. These are your girls, whether biologically or not. For you to be able to see them again in a meaningful way is fantastic.”
He pulls me in and wraps his arms tightly around me. “Damn, Tash. I think you are quite possibly the perfect woman.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” I laugh. “But if you insist, I’ll take it.”
He cups my chin with his hands and gently kisses me. “I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us. It’s going to be a wild ride. But I’m ready.”
“I feel exactly the same way.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Lincoln
To say I’m overwhelmed is an understatement.