𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐈𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞||𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

GEORGE FORBES POV:
Nine months later...

"I don't wanna go in!" Fern cries, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck.

"I know but you have to," I kiss her head, trying to set her down.

Her teacher comes over, Miss Harding. "Is everything alright?" She smiles.

"No," Fern screams, kicking her leg out.

I give her teacher an awkward smile. "Don't kick people, Fernsie—that's mean!" I whisper in her ear. She sniffs, burying her face deeper into my neck.

"I don't wanna!" She cries louder, and the other parents dropping their kids in with no problems start giving me looks. Not bad ones. Mainly the single ones, the ones who probably want to fuck me. The ones who also know I have a heavily pregnant Harper at home.

"Fern," Harding touches her back softly. "We're doing numbers today—those are your favourite, you don't want to miss it, do you?"

"What if mummy has the baby! I need to be there!" She pulls back, my heart breaking at the sight of her red cheeks and puffy eyes. I reach up and fix her school hat that's sitting wonkily on top of her head.

"If mummy has the baby, I'll come and get you, I told you this—but you need to go to school so I can look after mummy," I placate, starting to stress out a bit because Harper's overdue and I'm worried that she'll give birth at any second.

"You go to school, then!" Fern glances away. "And I look after mummy."

"I've been to school, Fernsie," I laugh, managing to set her down on the ground at least. "Now you need to go."

She isn't typically this bad. Most days, anyway. I think she has some sort of anxiety about leaving Harper when she knows she's going to have a new sibling soon.

"Hello!" Astrid comes running over, holding Henri's hand. "I know I'm a bit late but his hair really wasn't going right this morning," She sighs, turns to me. "Oh—no! What's happened?"

"Daddy's making me do things I don't want to do!" She stomps her foot on the ground.

"She wants to stay home with Harper," I squint. Should probably talk to her about how certain things should be said in public.

"Henri's here," Astrid crouches down, putting her arm around her little blonde-haired son. "You can go in together."

Fern looks up at me with her big Bambi eyes. I nod. "Go on."

She sniffs again, kicks the floor in her tiny patent school shoes. "But you have to promise you'll pick me up if mummy has the baby, yeah?"

"I pinky promise, Fernsie—here take this," I hand her school backpack over to her but her teacher takes it from me instead. She walks in with Fern and Henri, talking to them so she doesn't look back at me and run.

Once they're inside and the doors close, I walk out of the courtyard onto the street where a few other parents are gathered. "How the fuck do you get him to go to school every day?"

Astrid just shrugs. "He loves going—I'm sure I'll have to deal with this once he gets older, though."

"How's Harper?" Astrid blows into her hands rubbing them together. These early morning school runs are not for me. Especially in November.