I tighten my arms around her, my heart filled with something big, something I don’t even know how to name.
And just as Ivy’s voice calls out from the kitchen— “Theo, we’re out of salted caramel! Emergency decision: chocolate or vanilla?”—I realise something. Lucy isn’t the only one with nervous bugs in her tummy.
Because somehow, the most important conversation of my life is about to happen between spoonful of ice cream.
I take a deep breath, pressing one last kiss to the top of Lucy’s head before gently shifting her off my lap.
“Stay here, Ladybug,” I murmur. “I’ll be right back.”
She nods, completely trusting, and picks up her colouring again, oblivious to the fact that she’s just changed everything.
I push myself up and head toward the kitchen, where Ivy is rummaging through the freezer, grumbling under her breath.
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, pulling out two tubs. “Who even runs out of salted caramel? This is a travesty.”
I hover for a second, my chest tight with everything I need to say.
She glances over her shoulder, still completely unaware, completely Ivy. “I’m thinking chocolate, unless you’re about to argue for vanilla, in which case, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
I exhale a quiet laugh, stepping closer. “Ivy.”
She stills at my tone, turning to face me fully. Her brows draw together slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say quickly. “I just—I need to tell you something.”
Her expression softens with concern. She sets the ice cream aside, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Okay. What is it?”
I swallow, my pulse a little too fast. Why am I nervous?
“She—” I clear my throat, shaking my head at myself. “Lucy. She, uh, she just asked me something.”
Ivy blinks, waiting.
I inhale deeply. “She told me she’s okay if she doesn’t get a pony. Or presents. Or even cake.”
Ivy’s lips twitch. “Sounds fake, but alright.”
I huff a small laugh. “Yeah, well. That’s because what she truly wants… is for you to be her mum.”
Ivy freezes.
Completely, utterly still.
Her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted like she can’t quite process what I’ve just said.
“She—she said that?” she whispers.
I nod, my chest tight. “Yeah. She said she knows we’re together now, and she said her friend Sabrina’s parents sleep in the same bed, and they’re ‘mum and dad,’ and she… she wants that too.”
Ivy presses a hand to her mouth, her whole body trembling.
I step closer, my hands resting lightly on her arms. “She didn’t ask you herself because she said she has ‘nervous bugs’ in her tummy.” I smile a little. “So she asked me to do it for her.”
Ivy laughs—a watery, shaky sound—before a choked sob escapes her.
And then the tears come.
She covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking, and I barely have a second to react before she’s launching herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck, pressing her damp face against my chest.
