She’s always hated me. Always relished in humiliating me, but this?
I cradle my belly with my hand.
I’m sorry, Smudge.
I take a calming breath and close the app, switching to Jackson’s contact. I don’t want to bother him at work. He hasn’t messaged me yet but surely he knows.Everyoneknows.
I feel like people can tell which taxi I’m in, gaping at me as I crawl past them in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
I click on his name and raise the phone to my ear.
“Hey it’s me, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”
I hang up before I leave a message. What would I even say? ‘Hi, hope your day is going well. My evil sister leaked the baby news to the whole world and made me out to be a fame chasing gold digger, so I’m feeling a little upset.’
I send him a text instead.
Me
Call me when you can x
I put my phone down and gaze out the window, the busy flashing lights of central London giving way to urban side streets and local shops.
I dial another number.
“Hello?” my mother says.
“Mum.” I hate the way my voice breaks.
“Rosalie? Look, I know what you’re going to say, and I really think I should stay out of it.”
I blink. “What?”
“Whatever this is, it’s between you girls. I don’t know why you always put me in the middle.”
“Mum, she doxxed me!”
She scoffs. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Mum, she’s spreading lies about me, about Jackson, about mybaby. Yourgrandchild.”
She pauses. “She’s only trying to help.”
“Help?” I laugh incredulously. “You think what she’s done ishelping? Have you seen what people have been saying about me?”
“I don’t want to know, Rose. You girls need to sort this out between yourselves.”
I pull the phone away from my ear. She hung up on me.
I drop my phone in my lap and press my hands to my eyes. I take a deep breath. I cannot cry in the back of this cab. I’m nearly home. I just have to hold on a few more minutes.
I sniff and fold my arms, gazing out the window.
The cab slowly starts to move down familiar streets, and I tell myself it’s only a few more minutes until I’m inside my flat, buried under my blankets and hidden from the rest of the world.
“I might have to drop you off up the road, love,” the driver says, gesturing to the road ahead of him. “Looks like the pub’s got a party on or something.”
My stomach drops as I spot the crowd gathered further up the road from the pub, outside the door to my flat.
