Tom eases into the driver's seat of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz, he revels in the sensation of the supple leather upholstery beneath his fingers. The car purrs to life, a symphony of sleek engineering that is as effortless as it is powerful. The city stretches out before him like a glittering, endless expanse of possibility, and Tom can't help but feel like he's on top of the world.
As he navigates the bustling streets, Tom deftly retrieves his phone from his pocket, fingers moving with the precision of a seasoned pro. The glow of the screen illuminates his features, casting them in a soft, otherworldly light. He scrolls through his messages, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he reads Venetia's heartfelt thank-you note.
[19:47] Venetia: Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful. You didn't have to do that tho x
Without hesitation, Tom types out a response, his fingers dancing across the keys in a hypnotic rhythm
[20:19] Tom: You deserve them. Don't forget about the reservation at half ten x
The phone vibrates in Tom's grip as he reads the message from Venetia.
[20:21] Venetia: Sorry, we'll have to reschedule. Not feeling great. Don't worry though, we're okay. I mean, mentally we're both wiped out. I'm sorry I dumped the news on you so early in the morning, I definitely should have waited. My timing was fucking tragic lol
Tom's heart swells with affection, and he can feel a rosy flush rising up his neck as he taps out his response.
[21:21] Tom: No worries, my plans fell through last minute too. We'll rain check. Honestly, today has been weird. All I want is to lie in bed with you x
Tom can feel his own excitement bubbling up, mingled with apprehension and uncertainty. The thought of starting a family with Venetia fills him with a sense of wonder. He feels grateful for Venetia's honesty and trusts her completely.
Tom's mind drifts to a future with Venetia and their unborn child. He thinks about their tiny fingers and toes, their soft hair and the smell of their newborn skin. He feels a sense of protectiveness and responsibility settle over him. Tom knows that parenthood won't be easy, but the thought of sharing this experience with Venetia makes him feel invincible.
For the time being, the responsibilities of being a parent can be put on hold.
Venetia gazes at Tom's message on her phone screen, a few heart emojis filling up the empty space. She ponders over her response, not wanting to come across as a juvenile pre-teen with a limited vocabulary.
Tom, sensing her hesitation, doesn't wait for a reply. He slips his phone back into his pocket, a grin spreading across his narrow mouth. He's familiar with Venetia's quirks - he knows she's likely feeling pressured to come up with something more substantial than a simple message filled with cliched icons.
The car glides through the city streets with ease, its suspension system absorbing every bump and dip in the road. Tom feels as though he's floating on a cloud, lulled into a sense of tranquillity by the car's gentle sway.
The sound of horns blares through his slightly cracked open window, accompanied by the murmur of voices from the busy street outside.
Tom pivots his towards the window, and he takes in the vibrant scenery with rapt attention. In spite of the commotion, a sense of serenity washes over him, a tranquil moment interrupted only by thoughts of Venetia.
Gratefulness floods Tom's heart, a wave of emotion that brings tears to his eyes. Yet, Harry's words of caution echo in his mind, a warning that threatens to spoil Tom's moment of joy. Fuck. The prospect of revealing his plans to marry Venetia fills him with dread, and he can feel his hand trembling as he scrolls through his contacts, eventually settling on his father's number.
With a deep breath, he hits the call button, and his nerves intensify with every ring.
Tom rehearses the conversation in his mind, a litany of worst-case scenarios playing out in his head. He envisions his parents' disapproving gaze and the disappointment etched on their faces, the price he must pay for following his heart. Nevertheless, he knows that he must tell them, no matter the cost, for he cannot bear to keep his happiness a secret any longer.
"Hello?"
Tom's heart races at the sound of his father's voice. It's been a couple of months since they last spoke, and the tension between them is somewhat palpable.
"Dad, it's Tom," his words tumble out in a rush, the nervousness evident in his tone.
He can hear the click of a pen on paper on the other end before his father responds, "Tom, what's going on?"
The question is curt, and Tom braces himself for his father's usual impatience.
Tom feels a knot form in his stomach, hesitating before continuing, "I wanted to ask you and mum something. It shouldn't take long."
He swallows hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak.
There's a pause on the other end as his father's voice turns cautious.
"Okay? Shall I get mum or-"
Tom eagerly interjects, "Yes! Yeah, that'll be great"
He can barely contain his excitement, his voice rising with anticipation.
With the phone cradled against his chest, Dominic sinks into the luxurious embrace of his plush leather office chair. The Staffordshire Bull Terrier, a faithful companion to his leisurely phone calls, reclines by his side, unperturbed by his father's fervent cries of "Nikki".
Tom, ever-patient, focuses on the road ahead while his father continues to bellow into the receiver, his voice ricocheting off the walls of the spacious office.
The actor can't help but visualise the scene playing out on the other end of the line. He imagines his father lounging indolently in his chair, one arm draped languidly over the backrest. Meanwhile, his mother, standing in the doorway, is tense and guarded, her arms folded defensively across her chest.
"Tom's on the phone. He says that he wants to ask us something..." she says with her voice trailing off.
Tom can practically see the coiled tension in her body as she snatches the phone from Dominic's grasp, her entire frame poised for any possibility.
As Nikki brings the phone to her ear, her face betrays nothing. Her eyes are dark and inscrutable, but that very well could be because of the scorching hot weather that England has been enduring lately. It's too hot to sleep - or talk for that matter. Too hot to do anything at all.
Meanwhile, the dog at Dominic's feet has finally stirred, raising her head to survey the room with a quiet, steady gaze.
"Tom?" She says, softly.
As he clutches the phone, his mind is flooded with memories of a not-too-distant past. Just a few months ago, he revealed to her about his struggles with drink. Recalling that moment, he can feel the ache in his chest, the same sensation that had threatened to overwhelm him in her embrace. The memory of her touch lingers in his mind, an exquisite mix of tenderness and resolution.
"Tom, are you there?" She asks again, her voice met by silence on his end.
Tom croaks, "Yes, sorry. I'm here."
While Nikki waits anxiously by the phone, her heart pounding with anticipation, Tom mind races with the weight of the recent news he carries, the secret he and Venetia have been holding close to their hearts all day...
The knowledge of their first unborn child feels almost too precious to share, like a fragile butterfly they fear might flutter away if they speak it aloud too soon. For now, they hold it between them like a cherished talisman, a secret treasure to be savoured and protected until the time is right. And so, the actor holds his tongue, knowing that in the silence of the night, he and Venetia can revel in the joy of their impending parenthood, cocooned in their own private universe for just a little while longer.
They hold onto this moment, knowing that the world is a fickle place and that anything could happen, leaving them with nothing but the bones of 'what could have been'.
"Mum, dad," he starts, his voice catching in his throat, "I have something important to discuss with you."
Silence echoes on the other end of the line, and Tom wonders if he's made a mistake in calling. But then he plunges ahead, determined to have his say, come what may.
"I was wondering if I can have your blessing to marry Venetia," he casually blurts out, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know it might seem rushed, but we've lost so much time together that I want to make it up. She's the love of my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without her."
Tom feels the weight of his parents' judgement hanging in the air, waiting for their response with bated breath. The sound of their breathing is the only thing that fills the long, drawn-out silence, making Tom feel like an eternity has passed.
"What do you mean, lost time?" Nikki asks, her voice trembling with emotion.
"I mean," he replies, his own voice steady now. "That I regret the time we lost being apart, and I want to make up for it by marrying her as soon as possible."
As Tom clasps the phone to his ear, his fingers tremble with nervousness, and his chest tightens with anticipation. He pictures his parents at the other end, attempting to make sense of his abrupt declaration. The atmosphere weighs down on him like a dense fog, and his breaths sound amplified in the stillness.
Finally, a beat of quiet stretches out, before his father's voice shatters the silence, tranquil and controlled.
"You've been through a lot recently, son. Are you sure about this?" His father's words are measured, but Tom can sense the underlying concern.
Tom's throat constricts, and he swallows hard. He knows that this conversation will be tough. But he has made up his mind, and he won't be dissuaded.
"Yes," he declares resolutely. "Venetia is the one for me, and I want to ask her to be my wife."
A soft sigh seeps through the line, and his mother's voice follows, tender and compassionate.
"We want you to be happy, Tom. But we have a stipulation."
Tom tenses up, expecting the worst.
"What is it?" he demands, a tinge of impatience tainting his words. He can't help feeling a little frustrated. He has already made up his mind, and he doesn't want anyone to stand in his way.
"Your mother and I have nothing against Venetia," his father says. "But you have to understand that we have our concerns. You're still young, and you've been through a lot. We don't want you to rush into anything."
Tom bites his lip, trying to keep his emotions in check. He knows that his parents mean well, but he can't help feeling a little resentful.
He is tired of people treating him like a child.
"I appreciate your concern, Dad," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "But I'm not rushing into anything. I love Venetia, and I know that she loves me. We've talked a lot about our future and we both see us getting married young. She won't decline it, if that's what you're worried about?"
There is a moment of silence, as Tom's parents consider his words. Finally, his mother speaks up.
"We understand, Tom," she says. "And we trust your judgement. We just want you to wait a little while longer until we can be there to witness the proposal. To support you," his mother states firmly.
"I want to see the look on your face when you ask her. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Tom's heart plummets. He had hoped to ask Venetia tonight and start arranging the wedding as soon as possible.
"I mean... I don't know if I can hold off," he admits, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
"You can," his father interjects. "We'll make it worthwhile. It'll be a spectacular event, full of her favourite things and people."
Tom inhales deeply, attempting to contain the despair welling up inside him.
"All right," he murmurs finally.
He breathes a sigh of relief, grateful for their understanding.
"Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude.
After bidding farewell to his parents, Tom presses the red button on his phone screen to end the call. The silence in the car is heavy, palpable.
He glances out the window, watching the streets blur by as the vehicle moves towards his destination.
As he replays the conversation with his parents in his mind, he feels a twinge of pride at how smoothly he managed to steer the conversation towards the topic of marriage. He considers phoning Harry - who had been pushing him to seek their blessing - but he decides against it.
The last thing he wants is to stir up more trouble.
His thoughts soon turn to Venetia, the only person he really wants to talk to tonight. He smiles to himself as he imagines her reaction when he pops the question. He knows she has no idea what's coming, and the anticipation makes his heart beat faster.
Tom's car comes to a halt outside the towering sandstone building. He steps out, taking in its grandeur with a mix of awe and anticipation. The extravagant building exudes a sense of power and wealth, its imposing presence casting a shadow over him as he approaches.
He strides towards the entrance, his mind consumed by thoughts of Venetia. The memory of her revelation earlier in the day still fresh in his mind, driving him with a sense of urgency. He can't wait to see her again, to hold her close and share in the excitement of their news.
As he pushes open the door to the lobby, Tom is greeted by an opulent space that takes his breath away. The walls are lined with polished marble, and a sparkling chandelier hangs overhead, casting a warm glow over the room.
He makes his way towards the elevator, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the marble floor. With each passing moment, his heart beats faster, his excitement mounting as he imagines the reunion to come.
This morning was a challenge. He wanted to say a lot more than he did - and so did she. They were quiet, overwhelmed. Now that they've thought about it all day, they have so much to say. So much to reassure.
The elevator hums as it ascends, each passing floor bringing Tom closer to Venetia. He can barely contain his excitement, his anticipation building with each passing moment. He can picture her smile, the way her eyes light up when she sees him, and the feeling of her hand in his.
Finally, the elevator dings, signalling that he has arrived. Tom steps out into the hallway, his gaze fixed on the door at the end of the corridor. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself for the moment to come, and begins to walk towards their accommodation.
*
Venetia bursts through the door, her chest heaving with the exertion of her daily run.
The adrenaline still coursing through her veins fuels her muscles, causing them to tremble with anticipation. With a sharp thud, she slams the door shut behind her, the force of her impact reverberating through the room. She doesn't bother to lock it; there's no need. The production accommodation where she lives with Tom is equipped with state-of-the-art security, rendering it impregnable to any potential intruders.
A memory flits through her mind, an old wound that still stings. She recalls the first time she tried to visit Tom and was apprehended in the lobby by a wary security guard. Venetia can still feel the sting of humiliation at being referred to as a mere "friend", despite being one of the most celebrated actresses in the world. Yet, now that she's living with Tom, that memory brings a wry smile to her lips. "From humble beginnings," Tom likes to quip occasionally, raising his coffee cup in a toast.
Pushing the memory aside, Venetia wanders into the living room and collapses onto the sofa, stretching her legs out in front of her.
"Tommy?" she calls out, but there's no reply. The room is dimly lit, with only the faint glow of the lamps that they never bother to switch off. It's not as though they're the ones footing the electricity bill.
Venetia reaches for the remote control and flicks on the sleek television that dominates the opposite wall. She idly scans through the channels, but her attention soon wanes. The actress has a lot on her mind - namely, the tiny life growing within her womb, of which she had no inkling until this morning. She glances down at her flat belly and smiles softly.
Abandoning the remote control, Venetia nervously places her right hand on top of her stomach, mimicking the gesture Tom made this morning upon discovering the news. The sensation of warmth that radiates from her belly sends a shiver of joy and fear down her spine, and she can't help but wonder what the future holds.
Despite the minuscule size of the being growing within her, she tenderly caresses it as if the cluster of cells can already feel her touch.
From a young age, Venetia had always dreamed of becoming a mother. She'd spend hours playing with dolls, rocking them gently in her arms and cooing as if they were real. Her Bratz dolls always had pregnant bellies made of clothes, with their babies being Little Pet Shop figurines. As she grew older, her desire to have a child of her own only intensified.
When her classmates were dreaming of prom dresses and "fitties", Venetia yearned for the day when she would hold a child of her own.
She vividly remembers a time in school, when her drama class was tasked with simulating the experience of motherhood, Venetia was the only girl who eagerly volunteered to strap on a fake pregnancy belly and care for a plastic doll. While her peers giggled and teased, Venetia cradled the doll with a fierce protectiveness that foreshadowed the fierce maternal instincts she would one day possess.
For Venetia, the idea of bringing new life into the world was nothing short of magical. She imagined herself cradling her baby, singing lullabies to soothe it to sleep, and watching it grow into a beautiful, thriving child. She longed to feel the flutter of tiny kicks inside her womb, to hold her newborn baby in her arms for the first time, to experience the pure joy of motherhood.
Now, as she sits alone in her quiet room, Venetia gently caresses her flat stomach and marvels at the wonder of the life growing inside her. She imagines the tiny arms and legs, the button nose and rosebud mouth of the child who will soon join her in this world. Her heart swells with the fierce, unbreakable love that only a mother can feel. She knows that this child will be her greatest accomplishment, her most precious possession. And she is determined to do everything in her power to protect and nurture the life that is already so dear to her.
Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening startles her out of her reverie. Tom walks in, a look of panic on his face, as if he's just walked into a crime scene. For a moment, he forgets about the state-of-the-art security that protects their home, his mind consumed by worst-case scenarios.
But then he sees her, and all thoughts of danger fade away. Like Venetia, Tom has always longed to be a parent, and the sight of his partner is nothing short of heavenly. He moves quickly to kneel next to her on the sofa, gently placing his hand on top of hers. They look at each other with wide smiles, both filled with a sense of joy and wonder at the new life growing inside Venetia.
"We should've pulled a sickie today," she softly whispers through a giggle, light and carefree.
"I don't think our productions would have appreciated that," he says, shaking his head.
Venetia grins, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Who cares about that? We've got better things to do than work," she says, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Tom's ear.
God, she loves his locks.
Tom's heart flutters at her delicate touch.
"Oh yeah?" she asks, her voice soft.
Tom leans in closer, his breath warm against her cheek.
"We should've spent the day together. Just the three of us for the first time ever," he says, his eyes locked on hers.
Venetia's cheeks flush with heat, and she can't help but smile.
"We shouldn't be getting attached," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tom takes her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers. He sympathetically flashes a smile, knowing that what she said is somewhat true.
Venetia begins to feel the weight of guilt as she takes up most of the sofa. She effortlessly sits up. Tom catches her eye and cracks a smile, his warmth and affection for her palpable. Venetia returns the smile, grateful for his understanding, as she invitingly pats the empty cushion on the love seat next to her.
Tom stands up from the floor and settles next to her, taking a moment to get comfortable. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her in closer, and she presses her cheek into his chest. The two of them sit in comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts, as they watch a neon-fused HBO show with a moody synth soundtrack. The colours flicker across the screen, but their minds are elsewhere.
Halfway through the show, Tom turns towards her, his voice soft and gentle.
"When did you find out?" he asks, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern. Venetia looks up at him, her expression thoughtful, before replying.
"I took several tests this morning, after Invicta left," she confesses, feeling the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. "I wanted to be sure before I told you."
Tom nods, his arm tightening around her, as he silently takes in her words. They sit in silence for a moment longer, the weight of the situation hanging heavily in the air.
"Was it the bad maths day-" Tom doesn't get to finish his sentence, because Venetia psychotically nods her head.
"How did you find out so quick?"
Venetia can't help but smile at Tom's innocent question. Her mind drifts back to a when she was training to become a midwife, and her days were spent learning about the delicate balance of birth.
"You're forgetting that I was training to be a midwife before stardom," Venetia replies with a confident grin.
This earlier she felt a sense of pride in her ability to catch wind of her own pregnancy so early, especially considering her morning sickness hasn't even begun yet. As a midwife, she had learned all the early telltale signs and knew exactly what to look for...
She remembered the countless hours spent poring over textbooks and attending lectures on anatomy, physiology, and the stages of labour. She had studied the intricacies of foetal development, the various complications that could arise during pregnancy, and the techniques used to assist women in labour.
Venetia's knowledge of midwifery was extensive, and she knew how to handle every aspect of childbirth with care and precision. She was well-versed in the different positions and breathing techniques that could ease a woman's pain during labour, and she knew how to recognise and respond to signs of distress in both the mother and the baby...
It's just a shame that she never got a chance to finish her midwifery degree - to be able to go into the delivery room and be able to help a birth person through something so life-changing.
"Still," he cracks a smile, nuzzling his chin on top of her head. "It feels like the world's fastest sex-to-pregnancy thing," Venetia closes her eyes, feeling exhausted, tired and hungry.
"Hey, don't knock it off. It means that we have more time getting used to the idea that we're going to be parents," she whispers through a smile.
"True," he laughs, kissing the top of her head. "That's very true."