"Mummy, I'm tired," Parker yawns into my ear as I carry him through the front door and kick it shut with my foot. My heels click against the white tiles as I try to quietly walk to the stairs. The wedding itself was beautiful, and I know Izzy was happy when she got into the car with Blake at the end of the night. They’re staying in a stunning place in London tonight and leaving for their honeymoon in the morning. After Luke left, everyone burst into whispers and asked a million questions about Luke that none of us could answer. Even thinking about Luke makes my heart pound in my chest.

"I know, baby boy. You danced all night, I'm not surprised you are tired," I finally say, hearing Parker's light snores into my ear as I climb up the staircase as a reply. I’m kind of relieved he’s sleeping because I need a few moments alone to process tonight. Keeping a strong face up for Izzy and Parker all night wasn’t easy. Tilly’s constant questioning of if I was alright wasn’t easy either. I take a left at the top of the staircase and use my shoulder to nudge Parker's door open. I step over a fire truck to get to his bed and place him down, feeling the strain on my back as I do. When did my baby get so damn heavy? I tuck Parker into his bed as he cuddles his Paw Patrol dog in his sleep. I quietly walk out of the room, leaving the door cracked open before heading to my bedroom for a moment of silence. I switch the bedside light on after I come into the room and sit on the bed, pulling off my shoes. I lie back on my bed, reaching around for my bag and pulling out my phone before holding it above my face, searching for Meg's number before calling her.

"Hey sugar pumpkin," Meg answers, the sound of low music and male laughter flows to me from the background. I smile at her nickname for me because she is always coming up with new affectionate nicknames depending on the day of the week.

"Meg, Luke is back," I blurt out, hating how saying his name affects me. I’ve spent years in a dead end marriage learning how to control my anger and put on a neutral expression all the time. Luke is back one day, and my voice shakes when I say his name. He can’t just walk back into my life like he didn’t leave me all that time ago. I hear Meg scuffling around in the background before a door shuts and there is silence.

"Fucking hell, that is not what I expected you to say," she finally says, letting out a long sigh. “You alright? I know how you felt for that idiot.”

"He just turned up at the wedding, looking like sex on a stick and guessing who Parker is to him straight away. I haven’t had time to process if I am okay or not. I don’t think I am. I’m freaking the hell out," I say, before rolling over on the bed and looking at the empty bedroom I live in. The walls are as white as the white carpet which I can’t stand. The whole house is impersonal, and my bed is pretty much the only thing I do love in this house. It’s old, made of wood with a huge headboard that someone has personally etched and painted birds flying around on it. I gave birth to Parker in this bed, in this very room, and it will always mean something to me because of that. I met the love of my life in here, my handsome little boy.

"You always knew there was a chance he would come back, pumpkin," Meg says, and I know that deep down, but it’s not like the reality. I pictured Luke coming back a million times in my head, but none of them played out the way it did tonight. "And your boy is the spitting image of Luke, from the photos you've shown me anyways, so of course he guessed."

"I have to tell Eric...and then Parker," I groan. “Neither of them will take it well. Parker has Eric’s stubborn and disliking change attitude, even though they aren’t related.”

"Want me to come over?" she asks, and I know she would drop her work in a moment if I said yes. She would be there to tell Eric with me if that’s what I wanted. I know this is my own mess though, and only I can pick up after myself. I’ve spent years living comfortably, letting Eric play dad and never picking on the difficult parts we need to discuss. Taking the easy way out was exactly that - easy.

"No, Eric will be home soon, and I have to do this myself," I say. Eric sent me a text on the way home letting me know he’s driving back but he’d be a while.

"Is he still staying out late at his 'golf club meetings'?" she sarcastically asks.

"Yeah, he’s still fucking his assistant if that is what you mean. I’m sure he’s dropping her off at home as we speak," I say, laughing at the poor excuses my dear husband has come up with over the years. I know I should care more about who my husband is sleeping with, but I don't. It’s been one woman after another since our honeymoon when he slept with half the resort. I figured out exactly who my new husband was on that trip, and since then, we both figured out we don’t even get along as friends. Eric is into politics, watches countless tv shows on wood cutting, and hates ice cream. I prefer to eat ice cream in my pyjamas as I watch Love Island and ignore the politics of the world.

"Oh, well hopefully she does a good job, and he comes back in a happy mood before you crush his world with this news," she replies. I suppose he might be a good mood; he usually is after his late nights. Not that we talk much, not unless he has a function or dinner with someone important and he’s letting me know I need to attend with him. Sitting there and looking pretty with my mouth shut is the only thing Eric cares that I do.

"Urgh, I don't even know how to bring this up with him," I say.

"I don't think he will even care as long as it doesn't ruin his reputation. You know Mayor Eric Briwood cares a ridiculous amount about his public appearance," Meg replies, and she has a point. As long as the public doesn’t find out about Luke and Parker, Eric might be alright with this all. Then I think back to little moments I see him and Parker together. He has always been a good dad. I might not like Eric, but I can’t deny that.

"Eric cares- no loves- Parker. I know he does," I tell her.

"Then he will want what is right for Parker," she simply replies. "Which is having contact with his biological father."

"You're right, as usual," I grumble.

"I have to go, Arthur is back and causing a storm as usual when he visits. Apparently, he’s calling a meeting at midnight on Saturday and everyone is passing the word around," she says, reminding me of my weekend work I’d rather forget that I have to do.

"Just before my shift, brilliant. What do you think it’s about?" I ask. I’m hoping he says something quick and then vanishes for months like he usually does. I try not to think of the big coincidence that he and Luke are back at the same time.

"Don't know, don't particularly care. I have to go, but you got this," she informs me, leaving no room for doubt.

"Have fun," I say before we both say goodbye and I put the phone down. I climb off the bed and get out of my dress before putting on some red, silky pyjamas and a dressing gown. I slide my slippers on as I hear the front door open and I know I have to do this now. I still worry though. Eric isn’t a bad guy, but he does have a temper when things don’t go exactly his way. After walking across the room, I pull the door open and walk to the stairs. I slowly walk down them, hearing the sounds of the fridge opening and walking into the kitchen to find Eric. Eric's head is buried in the fridge until he pulls out a beer and turns around to see me.

"How was the wedding?" he asks, and I run my eyes over my husband before I've really thought about it. Eric isn't a bad looking man, but there was just something missing between us from the moment we met. And the fact he is a womanising asshole doesn’t help. Eric has short black hair, deeply tanned skin from his many holidays he likes to take with his old love interests that I can't remember the names of at all. Eric always wears expensive suits, designer watches and shoes. He is the mayor, after all. I married him when Arthur figured out he’d become the new mayor and he needed to make sure he had complete control over Eric. Eric lets Arthur do what he wants because of me. Well not just me. My father married his mother as a bonus insurance policy for Arthur. We are all puppets trapped in Arthur’s sick games of control. There is no question of who really controls our town.

"Interesting. Can we go and sit in the lounge? We need to talk," I say as he undoes the lid on the bottle with a bottle opener and puts it back in the drawer. This kitchen is designed to his liking, wooden cupboards, all shiny new appliances, and everything has a show house feel to it. The only rooms I got control over designing were Parker's and my bedrooms, everything else had to be done by him and his crazy ass mother. I still ended up with white walls and white carpets though. Thank god the cleaner knows what she is doing.

"If it's about my assistant..." he starts, looking guilty which I've never really understood. We don't have a relationship, it's all on paper, and there is no point him being loyal to the paper between us.

"It's not, can we just go and sit down?" I ask him, and he shrugs with a confused expressed.

"Sure," he replies, following me out of the kitchen and into the living room that we rarely use, because it has the expensive white sofas, and there’s no way I'm letting Parker in here. He’d draw all over the sofas. We use the sitting room in the back of the house, which is cosier and full of Parker's toys. I sit down on one of the sofas and wave an awkward hand towards the other for Eric to sit in. He looks at me expectantly while I figure out the nicest way I can say this.

"Luke King is back," I say, and he reacts in the way I expected him too. There is pure shock in his expression first, which soon turns quickly into anger. Then he runs his eyes over me, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for.

"And why should I care about that?" he replies.

"We never talked about it, and I am thankful that we didn't. I wasn't ready to be a mum on my own," I start, and I see his hand tighten so much on the bottle that his knuckles turn white. “I will always be thankful for you being there, but I was pregnant before we married. We never had sex before marriage, and there was that one time, but I was five months gone then.”

"Parker is my son," Eric spits out.

"But he isn't. We both know that," I reply, needing to get the point across.

"Enough!" He shouts, throwing his beer across the room and I flinch as it smashes against the wall. "I forbid you from seeing Luke fucking King. Do you understand me?" I stand up, crossing my arms as I face my husband down. I’m not backing down on this, not when this is about Parker and what is right for him.

"I married you, I kept your secrets, and you kept mine. Parker loves you, and nothing will ever change that, but don't you think Parker deserves to know his biological father?" I ask, waiting in silence as Eric looks at me.

"Do you still love him?" he asks. "Is that why we never worked out?"

"We didn't work out because we didn't love each other, not because of Luke,” I say, but it’s a little bit of a lie. I never gave him a real chance because of Luke, but he never fought for us either. He stuck his cock in the nearest thing instead. “Arthur controls us both, and here we are, living out this nightmare. I am your friend, and you are my son's dad no matter what. I don't want to hurt you, that isn't what this is about.”

"It's about Parker," he replies, rubbing his face and looking at me for a long moment.

"Yes.”

"I will never stop being his dad, and nothing can ever be found out publicly. It would ruin me," he finally says, and I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

"I get that, and I don’t want anything public either. I know you love your job," I say. “This really isn’t to hurt you. I didn’t know Luke was coming back.”

"As for Luke, I will find him and have a chat in the future. You will have to tell Parker," he says, looking tired.

"Thank you for being so...reasonable," I gently say, walking to the door but he stops me.

"If you fuck Luke while you are my wife, then I won't be so reasonable. You are mine, Emilia, don't forget it," he warns, the nice guy facade fading away as I pull the door open and walk out. There’s the asshole husband I know all too well. People like me don't get happy endings, but I am damn sure my son will have one.