Since returning from Scotland, I've noticed a shift in Isaac. He's become more distant, taking time out from spending time together, and even when we are together, his mind is far away. Our stay in Scotland was supposed to come to an end today but after the events of Thursday night's party, the trip was cut short and we were all booked for a return flight on Friday morning. 

It was the tensest flight I've ever been on and the awkwardness was overwhelming. No one spoke, not even Martha, who usually always had something to say. I'd tried to reassure Isaac that I was there for him, trying to hold his hand while we were sat next to each other on the flight, but nothing I did worked. He shied away from me and kept his stern glare firmly on the view outside his window, blocking me out. 

I can't say that I understood why Isaac was pushing me away but I did respect his need for space. That's why I hadn't pushed him to see me, as much as I wanted to be with him. Martha, of course, was a permanent fixture in my life and she kept me up to date with what was going on with Isaac, and more importantly, what was going on with his sister, May. 

"She's been arrested for domestic abuse," Martha announced this morning as she arrived at my flat, breakfast and coffee in hand. I ushered her inside and followed as she made her way to my kitchen. "Of course, she's furious with everyone for phoning the police on her but Isaac read her the riot act and now they've arrested her."

I shook my head as I tried to comprehend what was happening. "How did it come to this?" I asked myself quietly. I shook my head and rubbed a hand down my face. "How's Xavier, is he alright?"

"Well, he's going to have this massive scar on the side of his head," Martha said, taking a bite out of her pastry breakfast. "He's got a concussion, too. Dad is calling in some contacts so that Xavier can go see a therapist because he's still in denial. He's refusing to cooperate with the police so May is likely going to be released without charge which has made Dad and everyone else furious. It's a mess, Charlotte. Anyway, how are you and Nugget?"

"We're ok," I say, shrugging my shoulders. Dipping into the bag that housed the pastries that Martha had bought, I take out a Danish Pastry and chew off the corner. When the silence between Martha and I became stifling, I cleared my throat and asked the question that I'd been dying to ask since we parted ways at the airport on Friday. "Uh, how's Isaac doing?"

Martha stops chewing and stares at me. Gulping, she picks up her coffee and sips on it before she sets it down and smiles sadly. "He's trying to put on a brave face but he's doing a really shitty job of it," she reveals. "You should come over tonight. Maybe seeing you and Nugget will put a smile on his face."

"I'd love to," I say a wide smile stretching across my face. I didn't want to go so far as to admit that I was having withdrawal symptoms from Isaac's company, but I missed seeing his face, hearing his laugh and feeling his arms around me while talking to the baby. With him and Martha, it was beginning to feel as if we were a family and being away from them, missing the intimacy where it would be the three of us and the baby, I was starting to feel at a loss. "So, I was going to go and see my family today because they're still going on and on about nurseries and colour schemes. Fancy coming with me?"

Martha's eyes lit up and she nodded in reply. Before I had the chance to say more, Martha was pushing me towards the bedroom, insisting that I get ready quickly while she cleared the mess from breakfast. Laughing at her enthusiasm, I headed towards my closet and picked out a summery maternity dress in a coral colour. While my baby bump was still small- a side effect of the baby's heart condition- Nugget was still growing which meant that I was also growing and my regular clothes hadn't fitted in a fair few weeks. 

Pulling on a pair of comfy Superga plimsoles, I detangled my hair and threw it up into a messy ponytail, hardly caring enough to make sure that it was anywhere near tidy. The only people that were going to see me were Martha and my family, none of whom I cared if they saw me without a scrap of make up on my face. If Isaac were here, that would be slightly different because I always made sure that I wore some tinted moisturiser and mascara if ever I was around him. 

When I was finally ready, spritzing on some perfume, I walked back towards the kitchen, pausing briefly when I heard Martha speaking to someone. For a moment, I thought she was on the phone but when a second voice spoke, I frowned and edged closer to the kitchen, peering in to see Martha smiling up towards her father. When she saw me enter, Martha's smile shifted towards me.

"Good, you're ready," she said, clapping her hands once. When she noticed me watching Isaac like a deer caught in the headlights, Martha's smile turned into a smirk. "Oh, yeah, about that... look who is here!"

When both Isaac and I stared at her, Martha mumbled something to herself and turned to grab Isaac's car keys from his hands. "You're not driving," Isaac tells her. They enter into some sort of stare-off that I don't understand but that doesn't stop them from continuing until Martha sighs and gives into her father. She stomps from the flat, pulling the door behind her with a loud bang. Isaac's jaw ticks but he says nothing about his daughter's actions. Instead, he closes his eyes, calms down and then closes the gap between us, enveloping me into a hug. "I missed you, Lottie. Sorry if I've been a really crap boyfriend these past two days. I just needed some time because I didn't want you to see me like I was."

"I appreciate that," I tell him, returning the hug before pulling away. He smiles at me but it vanishes when he sees the frown on my face. "But that wasn't your call to make. What if I wanted to see you like that, huh? Don't assume you know what's best for me, Isaac, because you don't. Now, Martha and I are off to see my family. Are you coming?"

"Yes," he nods. Thankfully, he doesn't comment on the telling off I'd just given him. Instead, he heads towards the door and pulls it open for me. I grab my handbag before we leave, making sure that I had everything I'd need, not missing how Isaac's eyes followed me as I went about turning the home security alarm on. When I pass him in the doorway, I see him smirk. "That dress is new, isn't it? I like it. It shows off your legs. We both know how much I love your legs."

I didn't entertain Isaac with an answer. He'd love it if I did, which is why I bit down on my lip and avoided talking about anything to do with my legs. Instead, we rode down to the underground carpark in silence and sexual tension. If this was a chick flick, I'd hit the emergency button, jump on Isaac and have my wicked way with him. But this is not a chick flick. This is reality. And in reality, Isaac will just have to wait until later before I jump on him and have my wicked way with him. 

The way Isaac smirked in my direction for the duration of the drive out to Surrey was irksome. He knew I couldn't resist that full-lipped pout of his or the way that his blue eyes would turn wanting when he looked at me. The only way I was able to keep myself in check was by making conversation with Martha during the drive. 

"Martha, what about the name Éloane?" I floated. Isaac scoffed at my suggestion but his opinion didn't matter. I would only have to remind him of the deal we had and he'd shut up and turn to grumble about something else. "Or Estée?"

Martha frowned. "Why are you even thinking about girl names when the baby is clearly a boy?"

"Because we don't actually know that," I tell her. Honestly, I shouldn't have to explain this to her. "So, what do you think of the names?"

"Um, no to the first and no to the second," Martha decides, shattering my dreams of bestowing an 'E' name on my daughter. "But like I said, you're having a boy so there's no point thinking of girl names."

I was about to argue but before I could, Isaac growled and grumbled at his daughter. "Martha, stop that. You don't know what the baby's gender is."

"But I do!" Martha protested. Immediately, she earned my attention. When I asked her how she knew, she shrugged and said, "Because she has that pregnancy glow about her. Apparently, if you have glossy hair and a glowing complexion, you're having a boy. Charlotte is also really chilled out, another sign that she's having a boy."

"That's all bullshit," I scoff. When I realise that I've sworn in front of Martha, I blush and go to apologise, only to be cut off by the sound of the teenage girl laughing. "You can't know that those old wives tales are true."

Martha insisted that she knew that they were true but admitted the only way she'd really know is by doing the wedding ring test. Noticing my scepticism, Martha made a deal with me that once we get to my parent's house, the first thing we'd do is the test. I readily agreed because I felt that Martha's prediction for the baby's gender was wrong and I had to prove it to her. 

Obviously, when we arrived at the house and the first thing out of our mouths was a demand for my father's wedding ring, everyone was curious as to what we were doing. Mum thought that Martha was crazy for believing in the olden day methods but Sophie was intrigued to see if there was anything to it. Not that we'd know for at least another few weeks.

Following Martha's instructions, I lay down on the couch and waited for Emma to come back with some string. Once Martha had looped the ring on the line that Isaac had cut for her, she proceeded to hover it over my stomach. 

"What happens now?" I asked after a few more seconds of nothing happening.

"If it swings in a circular motion, it's a girl," Martha announced. "If it swings in a pendulum motion, it's a boy."

Suddenly, commotion from within the room saw people placing bets on how the ring would swing. From what I could hear, Sophie, Mum and Lucas were going with the baby being a girl. Dad, Emma, Adam and Daniel were betting on a boy. Isaac abstained from stating either way, as did I. We waited a little while longer until finally, the ring starts to move and people groaned or cheered.

"Huh," Martha said moments before her shoulders sagged. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Looking down at where the ring was suspended above my bump, I saw it move in a circular motion. "So, it's a girl, then," I smirked in Martha's direction. "So much for your old wives tales, kiddo." 

"I guess," Martha shrugged. Handing the ring back to my father, she shared a look with Isaac that I couldn't decipher. The moment passed quickly and soon Martha was looking at my father again. "Hey, Jimmy, want to go plan some more of this trip of ours?"

Isaac snapped his head to look in their direction. "What trip?"

I watched as everyone disappeared from the living room, leaving me there on the couch. I sighed and heaved myself up into a sitting position, something that was proving ever more difficult to achieve. Placing a hand on my bump, I said, "Well, I suppose that means you're a girl, huh? Well, Mummy loves you, sweetheart, even if you turn out to be a boy."

In the still of the room, with my hand still on my stomach, I felt something move from within. I jumped in fright but kept my hand pressed against my bump. Again, I felt the same butterfly sensation and found myself smiling. "Isaac! Isaac, the baby moved!"  

Just when you think you know what the sex of the baby is, this happens. So...

💙?
❤️?

Until Wednesday, my peeps.

Sarah xx