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with him had been entirely my choice.
    I thought about my best friend and me, we had both been virgins only a few days earlier, and we’d both been used by men who took that away from us. In different ways, but used all the same.
    The day that Jonah went to prison, I watched him smile at Rosie in court. She was so strong. As he stood up, he grabbed his dick through his jeans and laughed along with his Neanderthal friends. Joaquin had to be removed and went to join Rafe, who had already been taken out. I looked at Jonah’s friends, those boys, thinking they had the right to use women like that, to look at us like that. They thought we were there solely to please them, and didn’t deserve an ounce of their respect.
    That was the day I made the decision that shaped most of my adult life. I would never be the used; I would be the user. Sex would be for my pleasure, and when my needs were met, they could leave.
    I looked at Rosie’s mother, Bernie, crying in the arms of my mum, as my dad wrapped a protective arm around the shoulders of my best friend; and then I looked back to Jonah in the dock. I saw the fear in his eyes as he was found guilty and led away. I saw his weakness. I didn’t need a weak man in my life, I was strong, I was powerful, and I would never need a man to validate me. I made the decision that day, to be happy, to be single, have fun and live for today. And that’s exactly, what I did.
    Smells Like Teen Spirit
     
    “Baby,” Holly cups her hands around my belly button and talks to her soon-to-be-born sibling, “Can you come out and play now, please?” I suppress a giggle as she sits back and waits, for her request to be answered.
    “The baby just needs a little longer in Mummy’s tummy, Poppet.” I try to explain to her.
    “I didn’t need this long,” she says, placing her hands on her hips and frowning. We made the mistake of telling her a few weeks ago, that she was already with us by that point; every day since then she has pretty much demanded that I give birth. Apparently, it’s totally unacceptable that her brother or sister needs a little longer. She has a point though, I’m massive, and exhausted, and so sick of people saying, ‘Have you not had that baby yet?’ I mean, you can clearly see that I haven’t, do you really need to ask?
    There’s a knock at the door and Holly’s face lights up. Rosie and Jackson are in London for a week for work, and we’ve been waiting for Rosie and the kids to get here all morning and she was just about reaching breaking point with her patience.
    “Now who’s bad at timekeeping?” I joke as Rosie follows her three munchkins and Holly into the living room and leans down to kiss me on the cheek. I’m the one who is always late; I’ll probably be late to my own funeral, and Rosie hates it.
    “Just wait until you have to manoeuvre three of these things around, and then tell me about timekeeping,” she says, sounding frazzled but amused as I laugh. No, thank you, two will be quite enough.
    Holly takes Beth, Bobby and Alfie to her room to play, and Rosie puts the kettle on, telling me to stay put. We haven’t seen each other for a few weeks, so she feels the need to mother me. I’m okay with it though; I can’t be arsed lugging my lump of a body around if I don’t need to.
    “You look great, babe,” Rosie says as she sits cross-legged on the sofa opposite me, “Massive, but great.” She smiles and sips her tea, and I groan; I am huge. Rosie looks around at the house, the last time she was here, we had just moved in, and it was chaos. “The place looks good,” she says, but I can hear the sadness in her tone. “I’m still gutted you’re moved back to London though.”
    I sigh, Ben and I had moved back to Buxton when Rosie was heavily pregnant with the twins; we bought a cottage there and still own it, but Ben got offered a great contract down in the capital, it was too good to turn down, so we’re renting a place here for the three