Serendipitous

Part 1

Sometimes, all I want to do is silence the voice in my head. Tell her to, respectfully, fuck off and find a new home. Tell her to stop whining, as all it's doing is boring absolutely everyone to ultimate death.

The golden, fluffy muffins are warm through their casings as I ease them out of their moulds, and onto a cooling rack. A light, sweet aroma of raspberries wafts around my small kitchen area, brightening up the greying skies outside of my third floor window. I smile to myself as I continue to dance around my kitchen, my emotions turning with the wind once again. As a side note, I find that that happens quite often. One second, I'll be sad and lonely and feeling far too sorry for myself, and the next second, I'll be happy, and dancing like there's no tomorrow. I'm sure I could read into it if I wanted to, but I really don't have the motivation to. 

Skipping back to my workbench, I place another few rows of casings in the still-warm muffin trays, spooning thick amounts of the blueberry muffin batter into the moulds. Sticking them into the oven a second later, I cross to the other side of my kitchen, dumping the dirty dishes into the sink with the 'later' mentality. Taking up my phone that's been lying in a lonely state on the other end of the bench, I flick it open, clicking on a new message.

lera: want to come over to mine for lunch?

My eyes fall to the clock sitting on a plain grey wall, my mind doing the math to figure out how much time I have until I need to be at work. It's just passed eleven am, which leaves just under four hours until I need to be at work, just enough time to smother Oliver to death with cuddles. Smiling to myself, I text Lera back, telling her that I'll be at her place with extra muffins in an hour. With an elated sigh, I push a becoming, not out of the ordinary headache away from the surface of my mind, walking back into the main part of my kitchen and grabbing enough ingredients for another batch of muffins.

...

A giggling Olly claps his hands together as I bounce him on my knee. I clutch him tighter, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his soft forehead. My eyes track to Lera, who's laughing as she pulls two grilled-cheese's off of the sandwich press sitting in her kitchen. She shakes her head 

"He is so spoilt with you and the girls dropping by. You're so good with him."

I try to hide the uncomfortable feeling that hits my eyebrows, pulling them together in a squint. 

I think one of the good things about having such a tight knit, small friendship circle is that there's no battle lines that have been put up. We all see each other as best friends, with no one ranked above another. For example, Lera was the first person I met at college, when we were both trying to pull our stuff up the heavy staircase (I still owe Christian for lugging my stuff up for me). Melanie was my roommate for all four years that we were students, and Natalie, whom I've known for one year less, has still been an amazing friend, through everything. We all fit together, as weird as that may sound. We know each other better than anyone else does, and that's something that's held us together, like glue. That safety, knowing we'll always have each others backs, through everything and anything.

Which is why I feel extra guilty about hiding this massive secret from all of our friends. We don't have secrets between each other, we never have. But I never wanted to burden any of them with my 'secret', let alone now, when having children is actually a 'thing'. I don't want my friends to feel guilty or upset when they talk about children in front of me, and I don't want to create a rift or anything like that between us. 

"You okay Pers." I look up, bringing a tight smile to my lips as Lera sinks down into the chair beside me. Keeping one hand wrapped around Olly, I pick up a half of my sandwich, bringing it to my lips. I stifle a groan as the gooey cheese hits my taste buds, satisfying my appetite in the process.