Lessons in Laughing Out Loud by Rowan Coleman

and sprayed her cleavage with perfume. Of course Sam had ceased to be interested in her that way a long time ago—if he ever really was in the first place—but pride made her determined to show him that she too had moved on in the last five years, even if she didn’t have a girlfriend who made pasta by hand and liked arugula to excess. She wanted him to see that she wasn’t merely the flunky of a PR guru and talent agent, not someone who went through a series of emotionless one-night stands with virtual strangers because she couldn’t have the man she wanted. No, Willow was most determined that he shouldn’t notice that.
Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she opened the door.
“Willow.” Sam hadn’t changed that much. He looked tired and, unsurprisingly, stressed, but he was still pretty much the same tallish, handsome-ish man that Willow had loved so inexpertly. She was disappointed by the butterflies in her tummy when she looked at him, her body betraying her head with the memory of passion that had been extinguished before it had really had a chance to ignite.
“Sam.” Willow managed to keep her voice even as she stepped aside and let him into her flat.
“Well, where is she then?” His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his jaw clenched. He would not look directly at her.
“Asleep. She conked out just before I phoned you.”
Sam shook his head with contempt. “This is typical of you, Willow. You waltz back into my life like a time bomb, and wherever you go, shit follows.”
Willow took a breath. “Actually, your pregnant daughter waltzed back into my life. I could have just shut the door in her face.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t,” Sam shot back, his blue eyes thunderous.
“That isn’t fair and you know it,” Willow said. “I’m letting it pass because you are in shock. And you should be. How did you let this happen, Sam?”
“How did I . . . ? This has got nothing to do with you. Chloe!” Sam tried to barge past her. But Willow blocked him once and once again.
“She’s my daughter. I’m taking her home!” he yelled, his impotent rage boiling over.
“I don’t want to go home.” Chloe appeared behind Willow. “So fuck off.”
“You . . .” Sam lunged at Chloe, barging Willow out of the way, and for one stunned second Willow expected to turn and see Chloe knocked to the floor, blood trickling from her lip. But in the moment that it took her to turn around, she found Sam with his arms around Chloe, holding her as best he could, which was tricky because of her not inconsiderable bump.
“How did you miss that ?” Willow said, only realizing she’d spoken aloud when Sam looked at her.
“Have you ever told a teen girl she looks like she’s gaining weight?” Sam snapped back. “It never goes down well. Best to keep out of it.”
“That’s your motto, isn’t it? Keep out of it.” Chloe pried herself out of his arms, her childlike relief at seeing him evaporating in a second. “I’m serious, Dad. I can’t come home. I don’t want to be in that house anymore. It’s suffocating me!”
“Whose is it?” Sam ignored her, nodding at her belly. “Is it that Ryan kid’s? It is, isn’t it? I swear to God I’m going to knock him from here to next week and then back again.”
“No! It’s not that loser’s.” Chloe looked affronted.
“Whose is it, then, who’s done this to you? I’ll kill him.”
“It doesn’t matter whose it is,” Chloe shouted. “Why won’t you listen to me?”
Father and daughter both saw red at exactly the same moment.
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter ? It matters, all right. For one thing it’s a matter for the police. You are underage—”
“I won’t be in that house with you and that awful bitch anymore. I’ve got this baby to think about now and you don’t want me there anyway!”
“I’m going to prosecute. First I’m going to prosecute and then I’m getting a solicitor. No, first I’m going to beat the shit out of him and then