James had been on the wagon for a little longer than he’d expected to be and tomorrow Leila was being induced because the baby was overdue. It lay low in her belly and kicked its applause as they shared a kiss that some passerby would make a fortune with when they sold it to the press.
No, Spencer would not be pleased.
Care factor?
Zero.
They ate at her favourite restaurant and Habib made sure they had the very best table, but even with the best food and happiness on tap, Leila could not get comfortable.
‘Anything?’
‘Nothing,’ Leila said. ‘It’s been the best wedding I could have hoped for but now I just want to go home.’
When they got there Esther and Matthew were coming through the foyer and for once not arguing. ‘Esther! Matthew!’ James called out to them. ‘I’d like you meet my wife.’
The pride in James’s voice was unmistakable.
‘How wonderful!’
It was.
Leila felt completely at home and James never thought he’d be carrying his bride, let alone his very heavily pregnant bride, through any door, but it had never felt more right.
They made love as they had rather frantically for the last week because Muriel had said that it might bring the birth on.
Again, it didn’t.
Leila lay afterwards, listening to James sleep and watching the moon drift past her window and thinking of her new name.
Mrs Leila Chatsfield.
It was everything she could have hoped to be.
Her back was hurting and Leila had a long shower, then got back into bed, but nothing, not even happiness, could get her to sleep tonight. As she started to realise what was happening, she let out a moan because this wasn’t uncomfortable—this hurt.
‘It’s a dream,’ James said, and he rolled into her. ‘It’s just a dream.’
‘No, James it really hurts...’
‘I know...’ James started, but then he felt her stomach hard beneath his hand and he understood that it wasn’t some nightmare that Leila was locked in.