Excuse me! he thought to himself.
Her nose looked better than perfect to James.
He loved how her fingers closed around his and he thought of all the ski slopes he had hurled himself down with barely a thought and his very reckless ways should surely have him drenched in horror. But when he watched her little fingers close around his, James knew that they had led him to this, to a place where he got to properly feel.
He looked at the flowers that had started to arrive and loathed most of them.
James, unlike Leila, read cards.
Why was there a question mark immersed in exclamation marks in some of their congratulation cards? Why was the rest of the world holding their breath for James to mess up the best thing that had ever happened in his life?
Inexplicable was the love that had walked into The Harrington all those months ago and he no longer needed to explain or excuse that night to others.
Their baby didn’t have a name yet and James hoped to God that Leila didn’t still want to name her Jasmine.
‘You’re a good girl,’ James said to his daughter, who opened blue eyes to him.
And Leila smiled as she woke, for she knew what he was thinking. Leila had seen the face he had pulled when she’d suggested naming her Jasmine. And she smiled, too, that on the day she had been born he told their baby how good she was, how loved she was.
He made Leila feel like that every day too.
‘Can I hold her?’ Leila asked.
‘Nope, you’ve had enough goes,’ James said. ‘It’s my turn. You go back to sleep.’ Leila smiled as he carried on talking. ‘I’ve managed to put my parents off till tomorrow,’ James said. ‘Your brother and Sophie are coming in tonight, and they both can’t wait to meet her.’
Brother and sister were speaking again. James had spoken with Zayn and had found out that yes, there was a very good reason that Sophie had revealed James’s name to the press and gently he had told Leila why.