How could I not? • Tom Holland

Nine

Halloween was something else.

You and Tom had spent the last couple of Halloweens together. One time you went to see a horror movie – of which Tom didn't enjoy. He'd been scared shitless the entire movie, head hidden in the sleeve of your sweater. He made you promise that you'd never drag him to see a horror again and so far, you'd kept that promise. The year after you stayed at his apartment and ate candy straight out of the bowl. The candy was originally for the kids before you both remembered that he lived in a rather ratty apartment complex and no one was going to be knocking on his door that night.

Despite maybe the old lady from next door offering expired cakes.

This Halloween you were alone. Laura had left for a date, twirling around the living room in a freaky, rather well-made costume with a smile wider than the cosmos. She had insisted that you hand out candy to the children but instead you sat on the couch, slouched over the large bowl of chocolate wrappers and cheap lollypop sticks.

The bowl sat on your growing belly, empty wrappers spewing out the top. Every time there was a subtle knock at the door you grew only the slightest bit guilty but that quickly fizzled away when your eyes landed on the still unopened chocolates practically crying out your name.

But there wasn't enough chocolate in the world to drown out how much you missed the brunette boy you called your best friend.

Laura's apartment was empty compared to his – yours.

You missed your bedroom – the one that was reasonably clean, only a few of your clothes scattered across the floor. You missed Tom to tell you to pick them up before someone trips. Then for him to get tired of waiting and pick them up for you. You missed the smell of his scented hair gel stinking up the bathroom and burnt pancakes pulling you from a light sleep.

Grunting, you push your self up and lean over the coffee table. Slightly sticky fingers grab the envelope which held the gender of your baby. Your baby with Tom, who right from the start had given you nothing but loyalty and support. Who had shown you more love and acceptance then you had possibly shown yourself.

While a large part of you was still upset about the extremity of the words thrown back and forth, you also happened to miss him. You were itching to go home and crawl up on your own couch under the cotton blanket that you'd been falling asleep on for years. Laura's apartment was cosy but it wasn't yours and Toms. It didn't hold the same comfort and dare you say it... love.

You loved him above everything else. Above the fear that things had been screwed between the two of you. You loved him above the thought that this – whatever it was, wasn't going to work out.

Because how could two young adults, barely sure of what they wanted to do with their lives raise a baby together? The answer was right in front of you the whole time, floating around your brain every time you so much as took a glance at the boy with the unruly hair. It was in the way your cheeks heat up under his gaze and the way your wardrobe was overflowing with hoodies secretly taken from his wardrobe.

You were in love with him. And that's how and why you'd make it work – if he'd forgive you. God knows you'd already forgiven him.

If you could forgive each other then this could work – you knew that without a second of doubt. It wasn't like you believed in the whole soulmate ordeal or the belief that two people could just somehow... perfectly ended up together at the right time and spend the rest of your lives together but that was you and Tom.

Whether you lived in that two-bedroom apartment for the rest of your lives because it was all two dropout uni students working in dead-end jobs could afford, working hard to spend every spare penny on making sure that the growing life in your womb had the best life possible.