“Congratulations, Tilly. She is so beautiful,” Izzy says as she looks down at my little girl in my arms. The midwives just finished cleaning me up after I gave birth, and I can’t look away from her. She looks like my mum, I think, with her red hair and bright-blue eyes. She doesn’t look like him, which I’m thankful for. I finally get what the books say about that instant love you feel when you look at your child, that bond. It feels like my heart is going to burst with love as I stare down at her, knowing I would do anything to keep her safe. I don’t regret a single moment of my life; not anymore, because I would have never have gotten here. I lean down and kiss her forehead, loving the new baby smell she has. I swear nothing smells as lovely as she does at the moment.

“Thank you, she is,” I reply, watching as she yawns. Every movement she makes is cute. There is no other way to describe her.

“You need to call your parents, they should know, and your brothers, too. They love you, Tilly,” Izzy says gently, and I look over at her. I know she means well, but the idea of having anyone from France near my child right now is making me paranoid.

“The moment I tell them, he will find me. I’ve spoken to them twice in the last three months, and they know we ended badly. They promised not to tell anyone where I am, but I know he is still friends with Devon,” I say, thinking of my brother and how I wish I could talk to him. I glance at my fox tattoo on my wrist, knowing that things are not going to get better overnight like I want them to.

“He won’t ever go near you; he would have to go through me, first,” Harley says, coming into the room, looking tired but relieved all at the same time. After our kisses all those months ago, we have become closer as friends, and he has never been anything else to me. He takes me out on dates, and meals all the time. He buys me baby things and makes me food when I am too tired to cook. But, we never talk about us. I almost hate that he seems to have forgotten those kisses when it’s all I can think of. Harley is dressed far more casually than I’m used to seeing him, with just jeans and a grey jumper on. His hair is bundled at the back of his head, and he gives me a happy look.

“You can’t promise that, Harley,” I respond as he comes in and sits in the chair by the bed. He looks over at my daughter and then up to me.

“I can,” he tells me gently. Harley waited outside throughout the whole labour, and Izzy was holding my hand throughout it in here. The labour was short, thank God, but painful. Harley wanted to come in, but I think I just needed it to be Izzy and me. I was already sad that my mother couldn’t be there, and Izzy is the only thing close to family have here. I was surprised that Harley didn’t mind, he told me whatever made me happy and that he would be nearby. Then he kissed my forehead as a long contraction came on, and the midwives took me to the birthing unit.

“Have you thought of a name?” Izzy asks, and I shake my head.

“I couldn’t decide on one, so not yet,” I respond, and someone knocks at the door. Izzy gets up and goes to open it slightly before I hear Allie.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply back. I’ve gotten closer to Allie in the last few months and consider her a good friend. I can see why Izzy and Maisy love her so much.

“Maisy wanted to come, but she isn’t getting much sleep with the baby kicking her, so I told her to rest,” Allie tells me. Maisy only has a month left until they meet their own baby girl. I still remember Sebastian’s shocked face when he came back from the scan with Maisy. I never found out the sex but saying they were shocked would be an understatement.

“That’s okay,” I say, watching as Allie walks over and looks down at my baby.

“She’s a real beauty, with that red hair and button nose,” she says gently, and I nod, looking at her.

“Thank you, she is.”

“Why don’t we go get some drinks and food? I need to call Blake, to let him know we can’t go on that secret trip he planned,” Izzy says.

“Another secret trip?” I ask, knowing he has taken her on three now.

“Yes, something always seems to go wrong on each one. The first time we went on a boat, it was lovely with lights and everything. And then, the boat engine set on fire, and we had to get off the boat. The second date was the beach, again lovely, but halfway through the date, it started to pour down with rain, and then lightning hit a nearby tree, setting it on fire. And, the third secret date we didn’t even get to because the car broke down on the way there.”

“So unlucky,” I say, watching as Harley is grinning at the floor and trying not to laugh.

“I don’t get why he keeps planning all these things, I’m happy with a normal meal,” Izzy laughs. “But, it is sweet.”

Allie kisses my cheek before leaving with Izzy, and Harley stands up.

“Can I hold her?” he asks, and I lift my arms a little, so Harley can pick her up off me. Seeing him holding my little girl is beyond cute, even more, when he starts rocking her gently.

“She looks like you,” he says.

“That’s a good thing,” I respond, and his green eyes stare down at me.

“I’m proud of you, doing all this alone. You’re so strong,” he tells me.

“I’m not alone, you’re here. I know I will be in the future, but for now, I really appreciate all your help,” I say, and Harley goes to respond when the baby wakes up with a small cry. Harley hands her back to me, after placing a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere, not now or ever. Not unless you ask me to, Tilly,” he says, but I know he can’t promise me that. He hasn’t won the fight yet, and he won’t even tell me when it is. All Harley has done is train and work out, getting ready for this fight. The muscular arms he has are bigger than before, and every part of him looks prepared for a fight, now.

“Do you need anything?” he asks, and I shake my head, pulling my eyes away from him.

“No. I have a bottle ready and everything in that bag you brought in.” I nod my head towards the bag on a chair in the room. I know breastfeeding is better for the baby, but I want to bottle feed. I know it’s my choice in the end, and it’s something I feel more comfortable with. I spoke a lot to the midwives about it, and they said that some women chose the same as I did.

“Will you let me feed her? Only if you want,” he says, almost stumbling a little on his words as he looks nervous. I nod, watching as he opens one of the pre-made bottles and puts a feeding top on it. Harley comes and takes my daughter from me and starts feeding her in his arms, as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Why are you here? With me? I don’t know many men that would want to help their roommate with their first baby, and you’ve made it clear that’s all I can be to you,” I say, ignoring the sharp shot of pain I feel at even saying those words. I know my hormones are likely making me a little emotional at the moment, but I’m trying to be normal.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m here for you. I know she isn’t mine, but I want you to know that I’m here,” he tells me gently.

“Is it because of our kisses? I don’t want you to think you owe me anything. I get that you don’t want to be with me, but please don’t help me out of guilt. I plan to move out as soon as I can–”

“Stop,” he tells me, shifting on the bed, so he can look at me, his eyes daring me to look away.

“All I’ve wanted since our last kiss is to kiss you again. Every damn time I look at you. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, about you. I don’t want you to move out, but there is a month until my last fight.”

“When is the fight exactly? The date?” I ask, wondering if I can get him to tell me, now, but at least I know it’s in a month, not long at all. Izzy said it was weird that none of them had been fighting in the last few months. She said that none of them would talk about it, and that’s suspicious enough. This fight must be something else.

“One last fight, and my family will be free. I just need to win it,” Harley says, but it is so quiet that I’m sure he’s just talking to himself and not me.

“Is that why you’re always working out?” I ask him.

“Maybe I just like to work out,” he suggests, but he doesn’t look at me as he says it.

“Who is the fight against?” I ask him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.

“Why doesn’t it? You told me you have never lost a fight, so you won’t lose this one,” I say, hope filling me that he might finally be free of his past. That he might eventually have a future.

“I might,” he says, the words causing me to go silent as I look at him, staring down at my daughter in his arms.

“No,” I reply quietly, and Harley doesn’t say a word.