Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy, Katey Lovell [booksvooks .txt] 📗

help.” My voice was hard; still quiet, but firm. I’d pulled myself up by my bootstraps, he should be big enough to do the same. “Especially if it’s making you callous enough to take advantage of people who cared for you. I bailed you out so many times, Darius. So many times. I got myself into debt, and I’m only just getting back on my feet. But I made a decision, I made changes, and finally my life’s on track. You could sort yours too, if you wanted to.”

“You’re strong, Sophie. I’m not as strong as you. I don’t think I’m brave enough to ask for help.”

I almost laughed at that. Strong? Brave? They’re not words I’d ever use to describe myself, and for Darius, who only ever cared about how I looked on his arm, to praise these personality traits was surreal to say the least. Image and other people’s opinions had been his primary concerns in the past.

“It’s your choice. Your life. You have to live it how you see fit, but I’m telling you, if I hear of you using Summer as a bargaining tool again, I’ll kick you in the bollocks so hard your balls will fly out of your mouth.” I glowered, determined to show I meant it. “Nadia’s said I can see Summer whenever I want, and I will. She’s a special little girl.”

“She is, isn’t she.”

“She deserves better than a dad who won’t face up to his problems, that’s for sure,” I replied harshly, removing my napkin from my lap and neatly placing it alongside my empty bowl. “You’re a parent. You need to act like one.”

The blood pumped through my veins as I strode to the bathroom. I wasn’t strong, I wasn’t brave. I was just a thirty-year-old woman trying to get her shit together.

I shut myself in a cubicle, grateful for the privacy.

The inane pan pipe music that was playing out seeped into my brain, soothing me until I was numb to Darius. I felt nothing for him, good or bad. The embers were no longer smoking. It was as though a bucket of water had drowned them out, then washed them away for good.

Chapter 31

Emotion swelled in my core as it hit me that Tawna really was getting married. With four hours to go until the ceremony we’d already got through half a box of tissues with all our blubbing.

I was glad Eve, Tawna and I had stayed together at the hotel for Tawna’s last night as an unmarried woman. There had been much reminiscing, a few tears and plenty of sharing of our hopes for the future. It reminded me how lucky I was to have these women in my life.

We were at the hairdressers, sat in a row as we each had our hair curled and set, the sides loosely pinned up off our faces with delicate wisps framing our faces. Whenever I wore my hair that way at home I used one grip for each side, then complained when it worked its way free after ten minutes. The hairdresser used about ninety, ramming the pins so sharply that I began to wonder if they were piercing through my skull.

“Do you want a glass of champagne?” the young girl who washed our hair asked us. “Complimentary, seeing as it’s such a special occasion.”

Tawna adamantly shook her head. “No, thank you. I want to be able to remember every minute of this day, and if I’ve been drinking I won’t. I’d love an orange juice though, if you have it?”

“I think this is the first time I’ve known you refuse champagne,” Eve teased affectionately. “You’ve changed already and you’re not even married yet.”

“I’ll have a drink or two later,” Tawna said, “but I’m not going to go mad. I don’t want to spend my wedding day with my head down the toilet.”

“Especially not when your hair’s looking as fabulous as this,” the lady doing Tawna’s hair said, carefully patting her hand against Tawna’s newly-curled locks. “You’re every inch the blushing bride, and now your hair’s sorted you just need the dress and you’ll be ready to walk down that aisle.”

“Oh, now my tummy’s doing loop-the-loops.”

“It’s normal to have nerves on your wedding day,” the hairdresser assured her, as the young assistant returned, placing our drinks on the counter. “So long as you’re not having second thoughts, nerves are a good thing.”

“No second thoughts.” Tawna twisted her head to examine her new style. “I couldn’t hope to find a better man than Johnny.”

“He is Mr Perfect,” I confirmed. “Imagine a male model, with his own business, who loves his mum and you’re on the right track.”

“Sounds like quite the catch,” the woman doing my hair said with a chuckle, before jabbing one final hairpin into my scalp with such force that I bit my tongue to suppress my yelp. “My Mike was like a model when we got married. He had a beautiful head of hair and a fantastic body. Now he’s bald as a coot with a beer belly. Such a shame.”

“That’s what your future holds, Tawna.” Eve twisted one of her curls around her index finger. “Receding hairlines and expanding waistbands.”

“I don’t care,” Tawna replied happily. “It’s not just about looks, I’d love Johnny no matter what. I’m lucky to have him.”

“You’re a good match, and he’s lucky to have you too,” I said, then took a sip of my champagne. The bubbles tickled against the underside of my nose. “Does it feel weird to think you’ll be Mrs Hamilton in a few hours?”

“It feels great.” Tawna’s face was radiant, as though sunbeams were shining out of her pores. “I can’t wait to be married. Bring it on!”

“Bring it on,” Eve echoed, holding up her champagne. The three of us chinked our glasses.

“To Tawna and Johnny,” I added, before taking a swig. “May their day be unforgettable.”

“Are you sure it’s on straight?” Tawna asked, scrutinising the position of her tiara in the mirror.

“It’s straight,” I