"Call your friend off."

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“Isn’t it pretty?” Sian shrieked for what felt like the hundredth time. I nodded, hardly looking at the pink-stoned ring. It was all she had been talking about for the last few days, and I was starting to get bored of the wedding talk. I had literally just stopped hearing about Auntie Francis and Declan getting married; I didn’t want to speak about weddings for at least another year.

We were sitting on a bench in the park, and it was becoming a little too easy to tune out of what Sian was saying and turning my thoughts to what I was going to put myself through that night.

I still hadn’t told Niall about meeting Denny. I wasn’t going to. I was just going to turn up, tell him to stay the hell away from me and my family and be done with it. Although, something told me that it wasn’t going to be that easy. I was already having to hide my phone whenever Niall came into the room, because Denny kept texting and ringing it. There was nothing threatening said, or written, but the fact that he was contacting me, was enough.

And I didn’t want Niall getting hurt.

Sian seemed oblivious to the fact that I wasn’t paying attention, and I only really started listening to her again when she was describing – yet again – how Adam had proposed to her.

“…and it was such a surprise, Evie,” she gushed, her eyes welling up slightly. “I just told him I was pregnant, and he whipped out this ring; it was beautiful.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“And he was okay with it? That you’re having his baby?”

“Well, I’m not actually pregnant,” she replied thoughtfully. “I thought I was, but it turns out I got the counting wrong.” I slapped my hand to my forehead. Typical. That was so typical of her.

“Wait, Sian, you have told Adam that, right?” She batted her eyelashes in response, her face suddenly looking very, very guilty.

“I forgot?” I slapped a hand to my forehead in disbelief. She hadn’t told the poor guy he wasn’t going to be a dad. I didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or give up all together.

Sian’s lips twitched and she started to giggle, leaning against me as she tried to stop. Suddenly, I was overcome with laughter as well, and we sat there in the warm summer’s day, cackling manically and scaring everyone who went passed with the hysteria.

“Are you even going to tell him, Sian?” I asked as we walked back along the street, after our laughing fit. She skipped ahead, glancing back at me over her shoulder.

“I will, I’m just waiting for the right moment!” she called out, turning into my garden.

“Right,” I laughed, “and the right moment’ll be when he’s picking out colours for the non-existent baby’s room, will it?” She stopped just as she put her hand on the door handle, evidently thinking about it deeply.

“Maybe a wee bit before that,” she mumbled, going into the house. I rolled my eyes, following her inside. The smell of baking hit my nose, knocking me for six; someone was cooking? In this place?

I walked through to the kitchen and grinned; mum was standing at the cooker, stirring something one the hob as she chatted to Pam animatedly. It was the first time I had seen her smile in ages. Pam seemed just as interested in the conversation as mum was, which made me happy.

Mum deserved to be cheered up. I hadn’t done a very good job of it as of late; I had been too distracted by Denny’s reappearance and trying to keep me and Niall together. Did that make me a bad daughter? Putting my happiness before my mother’s?

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