Kitabı oku: «The Midwife's Christmas Baby», sayfa 3

‘Excuse me a moment,’ she said, and fled to the toilet. Thankfully it was queasiness again rather than actually being sick, and she splashed water onto her face until she felt able to cope again.

When she got back to Oliver’s office, he’d clearly had time to review Sara’s notes.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I just felt a bit...’ No, now really wasn’t the time for her to tell him that it was morning sickness. She stopped. ‘I’m fine.’

‘If you’re going down with that sickness bug, I want you off the ward right now before you pass it on to anyone else,’ he said. ‘Go home, Ella.’

‘It’s not that.’ She didn’t want to tell him the real reason right now. It wasn’t the time or the place, and she still didn’t have the right words to explain the situation to him. ‘So do you have an answer for Sara?’

‘Yes. I agree with you, so I’ve marked on her notes that I’m happy for her to have an elective section. I’ll get it booked in with Theatre. Do you want me to come and have a word with her?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Especially as that coffee was making her feel queasy again and she didn’t want to have to dash off to the toilets again and risk him working out what was really going on. ‘Thanks. I’d better get back to my patient. Catch you later.’

Ella was acting really oddly, Oliver thought. Rushing out of his office like that. Yet she’d been adamant that she wasn’t going down with the sickness bug that was sweeping through the hospital.

So what was the problem?

Things had been awkward between them ever since the night of the masked ball. The night when he’d taken her virginity. He still felt guilty about it; and as a result he’d probably been even more cool with her than she was being with him.

He really ought to have a chat with her and try to get things back on an even keel between them. Especially as he was the Assistant Head of Obstetrics now. There was absolutely no way they could get involved with each other; although he wasn’t directly her boss, he was her senior. Though it would be nice to salvage some kind of working relationship, so they were at least on semi-friendly terms in the department. He liked Ella. He missed the easiness between them.

As for anything more... Well, he’d told her the truth. He wasn’t a good bet when it came to relationships. Even though Ella was the one woman he thought might actually tempt him to try, it just couldn’t happen. It would all go wrong and wreck their working relationship for good.

He knew she’d be writing up her notes after her appointments, so he quickly typed out a message on the hospital’s internal email system.

We need to have a chat. Come and see me when you’re done today.

Before he hit ‘send’, he added ‘please’, so she’d know he wasn’t being cold and snooty with her. And hopefully they could sort things out.

We need to have a chat. Come and see me when you’re done today, please.

Oh, help. That sounded very formal and very ominous, Ella thought as she read the email at the end of her shift. Why did Oliver want to see her?

She hadn’t put a foot wrong in her job ever since she’d moved from London to Teddy’s eighteen months ago. But, now Oliver was Assistant Head of Obstetrics, he was bound to have read everyone’s file, to help him get a handle on the team and see where anyone might need more training. If he’d read her file, then he’d know that she’d only just scraped through her exams at university. Was this why he wanted to see her? Did this mean he was going to expect her to prove herself all over again?

Great. Just the thing to start off a Saturday evening. Not.

Dreading what he was going to say, she went to Oliver’s office. ‘You wanted to see me?’

He looked up from his desk. ‘Yes. Close the door, please.’

Now that was really worrying. Was he about to tell her that he was reorganising the team and there wasn’t a space for her? She couldn’t think why else he would reverse his usual open-door policy.

Adrenalin slid down her spine, and she did as he’d asked.

‘We need to talk,’ he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his.

‘Right.’ She sat down.

‘Coffee?’

Even the thought of it made her gag. She tried really hard to stop the reflex, using the trick her dentist had taught her last time she’d had to have an X-ray by making a fist of her left hand, squeezing her thumb with her fingers. Except it didn’t help and she still found herself gagging.

‘Are you all right, Ella?’ Oliver asked.

‘Mmm,’ she fibbed. ‘Maybe some water would help.’

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

Oh, help. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. At all. And it made it worse that every time she looked at him, she remembered what it felt like to be in his arms. What it felt like to kiss him. What it felt like when his bare skin was sliding against hers...

And this wasn’t the time and the place for remembering that, either. ‘Why did you want to see me?’ she asked instead of answering his question. ‘Am I losing my job?’

‘Losing your job?’ Oliver looked surprised. ‘Of course not. Why would you think that?’

‘Your note was pretty ominous.’

He frowned. ‘It was meant to be polite.’

‘And you just asked me to close the door...’

‘I’m not sacking you, Ella, and this isn’t a disciplinary meeting, if that’s what you’re thinking.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Things are a bit strained between us and I wanted to clear the air, that’s all. Look, let me grab you some water or some coffee, and we can—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Ella, you’ve gone green. Are you quite sure you’re not going down with the sickness bug?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Then what’s wrong?’

She couldn’t see her way out of this. She was going to have to tell him at some point, so it might as well be now. And she’d had all afternoon to think about how to tell him and still hadn’t come up with the right words. Maybe short and to the point would be the best option. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said miserably.

Pregnant?

Oliver’s head spun and he actually had to shake his head physically to clear it.

Pregnant.

He’d been here before. With Justine. Except the baby hadn’t been his, because Justine had lied to him all along. He knew Ella was nothing like Justine; but the past still haunted him.

The last time those words had been said to him, he’d been just as shocked. The baby hadn’t been planned and he’d still been studying for his specialist exams. He hadn’t been ready for the extra responsibility of parenthood, but of course he’d done the right thing and stood by Justine. It was his duty.

And then, when Justine had finally told him the truth, he’d been let off the hook. Except by then he’d started to think of himself as a dad. Having that taken away from him had hurt even more than Justine’s betrayal. He’d been shocked by how isolated and lost he’d felt—and he’d sworn that never again would he let himself get emotionally involved or in a position where someone could hurt him like that.

Now here he was again, hearing a woman tell him that she was expecting his baby. Even though Ella came from a completely different background, and he’d worked with her for long enough to trust her on a lot of levels—the situation brought back all the hurt and mistrust.

‘How pregnant?’ he asked carefully.

‘My last period was the middle of October. I’m nearly three weeks late.’

‘Seven weeks, then,’ he said, calculating rapidly. They’d had unprotected sex on the night of the Hallowe’en ball. That would’ve been two weeks after the start of her last period, from what she’d just said. Which meant they’d had sex right in the middle of her cycle: the most fertile time.

And she’d been a virgin—something that made him feel guilty and protective of her at the same time. And which put all kind of inappropriate memories in his head: the way her voice had gone all husky with arousal, the way her pupils had gone wide and dark with desire, the way it had felt when he’d finally eased into her...

Oh, for pity’s sake. He couldn’t think of that now. She’d just told him she was pregnant.

Of course it was his baby. There was no question that it was anyone else’s baby. Everyone knew that Ella was completely devoted to her job—come to think of it, she hadn’t dated anyone since he’d known her.

Except for that one snatched evening with him. And he’d been the only man who’d ever shared her bed like that—with the ultimate closeness. Which made it special, because Ella wasn’t the sort to sleep around.

She looked anxious. ‘So you believe me?’

‘That you’re pregnant? Or that it’s mine? Obviously the dates tally. And, given the situation, it’s pretty obvious that the baby’s mine.’ He looked at her. ‘I assume you’ve done a test, to be this sure about it?’

She nodded. ‘Today.’

‘And you didn’t suspect anything before today?’

She frowned. ‘No.’

‘Even though your period was late?’

‘I put that down to stress,’ she said. ‘You know it’s been crazy round here, with so many people off sick, plus Sienna’s going off on maternity leave really soon and it’ll take Max a while to settle in properly. We’re all rushed off our feet.’

‘So what made you decide to do a test today?’ Then he remembered how she’d run out of his office, admitting afterwards that she’d felt a bit sick. He’d assumed she was going down with the bug. But it hadn’t been that at all. ‘You started getting morning sickness,’ he said, answering his own question.

She nodded. ‘I can’t bear the smell of strong aftershave and coffee. That’s what made me...’ She swallowed hard, obviously feeling queasy at just the thought of the scents.

He grabbed one of the bottles of water he kept in his desk drawer and pushed it across the desk at her. ‘Here.’

‘Thank you.’ She unscrewed the cap and took a sip of water. ‘Oliver, I didn’t mean this to happen. I wasn’t trying to trap you, or try to sleep my way up the ladder or anything like that. It wasn’t planned.’

‘Too right it wasn’t planned,’ he said grimly. He wasn’t angry with her, but he was furious with himself. Why hadn’t he taken proper responsibility when it came to precautions? More to the point, why had he made love with her in the first place, when he’d managed to keep his hands to himself and his libido under control for the last eighteen months? Why had he given into temptation that night, let the single glass of champagne he’d drunk go completely to his head and wipe out his inhibitions enough to let him kiss her and take her to bed?

Though he really wasn’t prepared to answer those questions right now.

Instead, to cover up his guilt and confusion, he snapped at her. ‘So what was it? The Pill didn’t work?’

She flinched. ‘I’m not on the Pill.’

What? He could hardly believe what he was hearing. ‘You led me to believe you were.’ So, in a way, she’d been as devious as Justine. Clearly his judgement was incredibly poor when it came to relationships.

‘I didn’t say I was on the Pill.’

‘You hinted at it.’ He remembered it very clearly. ‘You said I didn’t need a condom. Why would you say that unless you were taking the Pill?’

‘Well, that lets you very nicely off the hook, doesn’t it? Because it’s all my fault. That’s fine. I accept the entire blame for the situation.’ She screwed the cap back on the water bottle. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Darrington, I’m not expecting anything from you. I just thought you had the right to know about the baby.’ She stood up. ‘I’m officially off duty right now, so I’m going home.’

‘Wait. Ella.’ He blew out a breath. ‘You’ve just told me you’re expecting my baby. At least give me time to process the news. And what do you mean, you’re not expecting anything from me? As the baby’s father, of course I’ll support you financially.’ Just as he’d supported Justine when he’d thought that she was pregnant with his baby. A Darrington always did the right thing.

‘I don’t want your money.’

‘Tough. Because I have no intention of letting you go through this unsupported and on your own.’ He stared at her. One thing he was very sure about: this time he wasn’t going to have fatherhood snatched away from him. This time he was exercising his rights, and he was going to have choices. ‘It’s my baby, too, Ella. So that means I get a say. In everything.’

‘I never had you pegged as an overbearing bully,’ she said, ‘but you’re behaving like one right now. I’m telling you about the baby purely out of courtesy, and I know you’re not interested in being with me so I don’t expect anything from you. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve already told you I’m off duty and I want to go home. Goodnight.’

This time, she walked out.

By the time Oliver had gathered his thoughts enough to think of going after her, Ella was nowhere to be seen.

Great.

If he ran after her now, everybody would notice. The last thing either of them needed right now was to have the hospital speculating about their relationship—or, worse still, actually guessing that Ella was pregnant with his baby.

He needed time to think about this. To get used to the idea. To work out exactly what he was going to do.

So much for thinking that he and Ella could smooth over what had happened that night and try to repair their working relationship. Her bombshell had just changed everything. And right at that moment he didn’t have a clue what to do next, or even what to think. She hadn’t even told him why she hadn’t been on the Pill, and he needed to get to the bottom of that. His head was spinning.

He’d finish all the admin here and then go for a run to clear his head. And then, maybe, he’d be able to work out the best way forward. For all three of them.

The run cleared his head a bit. But then the reality slammed home. He was going to be a father.

Oliver took a deep breath. He’d been here before, but this time he had no doubts at all. The baby was his, and so was the responsibility. OK, so she’d told him he didn’t need to use protection, and that had turned out not to be true—but it took two to make a baby. Plus Ella’s family lived hundreds of miles away in Ireland; although her best friend lived in Cheltenham, it basically meant that Ella was on her own. She and the baby needed him to step up to the plate and be responsible.

He could start by making sure that she was taking folic acid and eating properly. Which was hard in the early stages, when you had morning sickness and couldn’t face the smell or taste of certain foods. He now knew the smell of coffee was a trigger for her, so he needed to find something that was bland, yet nutritious and tempting at the same time. Decaffeinated tea might be easier for her than coffee; he knew she usually drank tea at work. And maybe some fresh strawberries, pasteurised yoghurt and granola.

He dropped in to the supermarket on his way home, trying to ignore the piped Christmassy music and the stacks of Christmas chocolates and goodies displayed throughout the shop. Right now it didn’t feel much like Christmas. It felt as if the world had been shaken upside down and he wasn’t quite sure what day it was. Though he rather thought he might need some kind of Christmas miracle right now.

He concentrated on picking out things he thought might tempt Ella to eat, and added a box of vitamins specially formulated for pregnant women. Then he came to the large stand of flowers by the tills. Did Ella even like flowers? He didn’t have a clue. He knew some women hated cut flowers, preferring to let them bloom in a garden or on an indoor plant. And there was the scent issue. Something as strong as lilies might set off her morning sickness.

But it would be a gesture. A start. A way of showing her that he wanted to be on the same side. Maybe something not over-the-top and showy, like the large bouquets sprinkled with artificial snow and glitter. Something a little smaller and bright and cheerful with no scent, like the bunch of sunny yellow gerbera. Although he didn’t have a vase at home, he could stick them in a large glass of water overnight so they’d still look nice in the morning. Hopefully Ella would like them.

Then maybe tomorrow they could talk sensibly about their options. Hopefully Ella would tell him what she really wanted. She’d said that she was only telling him about the baby out of courtesy, but did she really mean that? Did she want him to be part of the baby’s life—part of her life? Or did she really mean to do what their colleague Sienna seemed to be doing, and go it alone?

And what did he want?

Since Justine’s betrayal, Oliver had major trust issues when it came to relationships. He didn’t date seriously. He hadn’t even wanted a proper relationship, thinking that the risks of getting hurt again were too high. But the fact that Ella was expecting his baby changed that. He knew he definitely wanted to be a part of his child’s life.

And Ella? He’d fought against his attraction towards her for months, keeping it strictly professional between them at work. Then, the night of the charity ball, he’d danced with her; it had felt so right to hold her in his arms. To kiss her, when he’d driven her home. To make love with her, losing himself inside her.

If he was honest with himself, he wanted to do it again. And more. He wanted to wake up with her curled in his arms. Being with Ella had made him feel that the world was full of sunshine. That snatched evening was the first time he’d felt really connected with anyone for years. He could actually see them as a family: Ella nursing the baby at the kitchen table, chatting to him about his day when he got home from work. Going to the park, with himself pushing the pram and Ella by his side—maybe with a little dog, too. Reading a bedtime story to the baby together and doing all the voices between them.

They could give their baby the kind of childhood he hadn’t had. One filled with warmth and love.

But then reality slammed in. Did she feel the same way about him? Did she want to make a family with him, or did she just want financial support, the way Justine had? OK, so she didn’t know who his parents were, and she’d said earlier that she didn’t want his money—but was it true?

Had it meant anything to her, giving him her virginity? Or had it all just been a nuisance to her, an embarrassment, something she wanted to get rid of and he’d happened to be in a convenient place to do her a favour? And why had she been so adamant that they didn’t need contraception—especially as it now turned out that she hadn’t been on the Pill?

He didn’t have a clue. In normal circumstances, that would be a difficult conversation to have. With pregnancy hormones clouding the issue, it was going to be even harder.

Tomorrow.

He’d sleep on it and hope that the right words would lodge themselves in his head by tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

ON SUNDAY MORNING, Oliver drove over to the pretty little square where Ella’s flat was and rang her doorbell.

She opened the door wearing pyjamas, sleepy-eyed and with her hair all mussed. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he said.

‘It’s almost half-past nine, so it’s my bad,’ she said wryly. ‘What do you want?’

He held up the recyclable shopping bag. ‘I brought breakfast. I thought maybe we could talk.’

‘Breakfast?’

‘And these.’ He handed her the gerbera. ‘I hope you like them.’

Unexpectedly, her beautiful green eyes filled with tears. ‘Oliver, they’re gorgeous. I love yellow flowers. Thank you. Though you really didn’t have to do that.’

‘I wanted to,’ he admitted. And right now, seeing her all warm and sleepy, he really wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close and tell her that he’d protect her from the world.

Except he wasn’t sure how she’d react, and he knew he needed to take this slowly and carefully until he had a better idea of what was going on in her head. He wasn’t going to end up in the same place he’d been after Justine, where he’d been in love with her but she hadn’t loved him back.

‘Come in. I’ll put the kettle on.’ She ushered him through to her living room. ‘I’ll go and have a quick shower and get dressed, and then I’ll put those lovely flowers in water.’

‘You don’t have to change on my behalf.’

She gave him a speaking glance. ‘I can’t be sitting here at my kitchen table in pyjamas, with you all dressed up like a magazine model.’

‘Apart from the fact that I’m not all dressed up, I don’t mind if you stay in your pyjamas.’

‘Well, I do.’

He really didn’t want to sit around doing nothing. It wasn’t his style. He’d always preferred keeping busy. ‘Shall I make breakfast, then, while you’re showering?’

He could see that she was torn between insisting that it was her flat so it was her job to make breakfast, and letting him do something. ‘All right,’ she said finally. ‘I normally eat in the kitchen, if that’s all right with you.’

‘OK. I’ll see you when you’re ready.’

By the time Ella had showered and changed into jeans and a cute Christmassy sweater with a reindeer in a bow tie on the front, Oliver had laid two places at the tiny bistro table in her kitchen and had arranged everything on the table: freshly squeezed orange juice, granola, yoghurt and a bowl of hulled and washed strawberries. It looked amazing. And she couldn’t remember the last time anyone apart from her parents had made this kind of fuss over her. Right now she felt cherished—special—and it was a good feeling.

‘No coffee,’ he said.

‘Thanks. I really can’t bear the smell of it.’

‘And that’s why I held off on the croissants. Just in case they affected you, too.’ He gestured to the teapot. ‘The tea’s decaf—I thought it might be easier for you to manage.’

‘That’s so sweet.’ He’d made all this effort just for her, and her heart melted. ‘This all looks so nice. Thank you.’

‘I had to guess because I didn’t really know what kind of thing you like for breakfast.’

She blushed. ‘You didn’t stay for breakfast when... Well, you know.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Right at that moment, he looked just as embarrassed and awkward as she felt. She’d been stupid to bring up the issue.

‘I just wanted to do something nice for you,’ he said.

‘And I appreciate it,’ she said meaning it.

He poured her a mug of tea. ‘No sugar, right?’

She loved the fact that he’d actually noticed how she took her tea. ‘Right.’

‘So how are you feeling?’ he asked.

‘Mostly fine. Just as long as I avoid strong smells.’ She smiled. ‘And that should get better in about six weeks, or so I always tell my mums.’

‘It’s usually better by the second trimester,’ he agreed.

‘I thought Sienna was teasing me when she told me that tin cans actually smell when you’re pregnant,’ Ella said, ‘but she’s right. They do.’ She shuddered, and took a sip of the orange juice. ‘This is lovely. Thank you so much. I feel totally spoiled.’

‘It’s the least I could do.’ Again, Oliver could imagine having breakfast with Ella on Sunday mornings. A lazy breakfast, with toast and tea and the Sunday papers, and then taking the baby out together for a late-morning walk in the park... It shocked him to discover how much he actually wanted that.

A real relationship.

With Ella and their baby.

Thankfully she hadn’t noticed him mooning about, because she asked, ‘So is everything OK with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re settling in well to your new job?’

‘Just about,’ he said, smiling back at her. Maybe this was going to work out. They could at least make polite conversation. And they’d been friends before the masked ball. They respected each other as colleagues. He really believed they could salvage something from this now.

He kept the conversation going until they’d finished breakfast and he started clearing the table; then he noticed that there was still something left in the bag he’d brought with him. ‘Oh, I meant to give you this earlier.’ He took the box of vitamins from the bag and handed them to her.

She frowned. ‘What’s this?’

‘Folic acid—obviously now you know about the baby, you need to start taking it.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Her face shuttered. ‘Did it occur to you that I might already have bought a pregnancy vitamin supplement with folic acid?’

‘I—’ He stared at her. No. He hadn’t given it a second thought.

‘Oliver, I’m a midwife. It’d be a bit stupid of me to ignore my years of training about the best way for pregnant women to look after themselves and their babies, wouldn’t it?’

She sounded really put out, though he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. All he’d done was buy her some vitamins. ‘I was just trying to help. To look after you.’

‘To take over, more like,’ she said.

‘But—’

‘Do you think I’m suffering from “pregnancy brain” and I’m completely flaky?’ she asked. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘And, for your information, “pregnancy brain” is a total myth. I came across a piece on the news the other day that said actually women’s brains are sharper when they’re pregnant.’

What? Where was all this coming from? He didn’t understand. ‘Ella, I didn’t accuse you of anything of the sort.’

‘No, but you bought me folic acid without even thinking that I might already have some. There’s a huge difference between asking me if you can pick something up for me, and just presenting me with it as if I’m too stupid to have thought of it for myself.’

‘You’re overreacting.’

‘Am I?’ She folded her arms. ‘If this is how it’s going to be for the next seven and a half months, with you looking over my shoulder all the time and making decisions for me without even bothering to discuss things with me first...’ Again, she shook her head. ‘That’s really overbearing and that’s not what I want, Oliver. Actually, right now I think I’d like you to leave and give me some space.’

He stared at her in disbelief. ‘All I want to do is to protect you and the baby, and provide for you. How’s that being overbearing?’

Could he really not see it? Ella wondered. ‘It’s overbearing because you’re not discussing anything with me. You’ve made the decision already and you’re expecting me to just shut up and go along with it.’ She’d been there before: when everyone thought that little Ella wasn’t bright enough to train as a midwife. She hated the way Oliver seemed to be falling into those same attitudes and thinking he knew what was best for her. She’d had years of feeling undermined and useless, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. ‘And if you dare say that’s just pregnancy hormones making me grumpy, I’ll...I’ll...’ She was too angry to think of what she’d do next. So much for thinking he wanted to cherish her. What an idiot she was, letting herself fall a little more in love with a control freak who wanted to boss her around.

‘Ella, this is—’

‘I need some space. Thank you for the flowers and breakfast, because that was very nice of you, but I’d really like you to leave now. Please.’

‘What about the washing up?’

‘I think I might just about be capable of sorting that out for myself.’ She stood up and gestured to the doorway. ‘Would you give me some space, please?’

Maybe making a tactical retreat would be the best thing to do right now, Oliver thought. ‘All right.’

He wasn’t sure whether her reaction had made him more hurt or angry. He’d tried to do the right thing, but Ella was being totally unreasonable. He’d never called her intelligence into question. Why on earth would she think he had?

Despite her protests, he was pretty sure that pregnancy hormones were affecting her mood.

He’d try to talk to her again later and hope that she’d be in a better frame of mind. More receptive.

Going to the gym and pounding the treadmill didn’t help. Neither did going to his office and spending a couple of hours catching up on paperwork.

Was he really being overbearing and making decisions without asking her? Oliver wondered.

A simple box of vitamins really shouldn’t cause this much trouble.

Justine had been more than happy for him to make a fuss of her and buy things for her while she was pregnant. Then again, she’d had her reasons. But Ella was seriously independent. Brave enough to travel to London at the age of eighteen to study midwifery, so far from her family home in Ireland that she wouldn’t be able to just pop home for the weekend like most of the other students could. And she’d be brave enough to bring up this baby on her own.

Except she didn’t have to.

He wanted to be there. For her and for the baby.

He didn’t want to tell her about Justine—not just yet—but he could try to build a bridge. Try to see things from Ella’s point of view.

It didn’t take him long to drive back to her flat.

This time, when she answered the doorbell, she didn’t smile.

‘Hear me out?’ he asked. ‘Please?’

She said nothing, but at least she didn’t slam the door in his face. ‘I was going to get you flowers as an apology, but I already bought you flowers this morning and I don’t want you to think I’m going over the top—especially as you already think I’m being overbearing. I had no idea what to get you. I don’t know what you like, so I just...’ Oliver hated feeling so clueless and awkward. Normally he was in charge and he knew everything would go smoothly. This was way out of his comfort zone.

‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t need you to buy me things.’

Another difference between Ella and the women he usually dated: they expected presents. Expensive presents.

‘The most important thing is that I’m sorry for being bossy. I don’t mean to be and I’ll try not to be. But,’ he said, ‘old habits die hard, and I can’t promise that I won’t mess up in the future.’