⇾ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

𝚇𝚇𝚅

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 → 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕

⊹ 𝟼-𝟼-𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟾 ⊹

"Jules, would ye just get in the damned car?" John asked, quite frustrated. I emerged from the front door after keeping John and Julian waiting a little longer than expected—accidentally. It wasn't my fault that this baby decided to reject every single thing that I had had for breakfast an hour ago.

Julian cackled and ran away from John when he tried to reach down and scoop his son off of the ground. "Julian!" John shouted, putting his hands on either side of his face. "Bloody fuckin' hell," he groaned.

"Reminds me of someone," I said, and when John turned in my direction, I raised my eyebrows at him expectantly.

His eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Right, thanks for that," he mumbled.

I pointed to Julian running around in the front yard, laughing his bloody arse off. "Better go get 'im," I said. "Lord knows I can't."

"Yeah, I know you bloody can't," he said. "You and yer little belly. Starting to think it's all made up just so you don't have to chase Jules when he decides to be a little brat." He scowled over at Julian—who had now stopped on the complete opposite side of the yard and was staring at John as if to tease him.

I rubbed my hands over the ever-so-small protrusion from underneath my sundress. "Suppose I make myself vom every two seconds then, yeah?"

"Dunno," he said. "Maybe ye do."

"I can promise you that I don't," I answered. "If it were up to me, I would be the opposite of pregnant."

"What's the opposite of pregnant?" he asked.

"Not pregnant!" I replied. "Duh!"

He grinned, then turned back to where Julian was facing him from across the lawn. "Julian bloody Lennon, get yer arse over here!" he shouted. "We've gotta be goin'! Uncle Paul gets all fussy when we're late for things!"

As soon as I heard Paul's name, I cringed and felt almost like vomiting again. He hadn't spoken to me since the day the band had recorded their demos. In fact, he had made an effort to not speak to me. Now, however, we had to see each other. We were driving all the way up to Wales for Mike's wedding, so we didn't have much of a choice.

My parents had taken the news of my second pregnancy about as good as we could have expected, but they hadn't taken it nearly as bad as Paul. Not even Mimi had taken it as badly as Paul. Paul was nothing short of a bloody drama queen. Of course, he had to make it a bigger deal than it actually was. That's all he knew how to fucking do.