I brush a kiss to my daughter’s forehead and rescue her teddy from the ground, gently placing it beside her before walking out the room with a whispered, “Love you, Tabi.”

Sasha, my best friend, joins me in the doorway of our little Greek holiday villa that her parents rented for us as we watch my girl.

Tabi fights sleep, her forehead wrinkling as she attempts to keep her bright green eyes open. Her eyes match her dad’s, although it’s difficult to remember him from the one time we met. Her short, quick breaths signal she’s zonked out after a day of playing around the pool.

“All I’m saying, Rosie, is what’s the worst that could happen?” Sasha murmurs, pushing a wave of my brown hair away from my tired eyes.

“You don’t get to say that after last time, remember?” I mutter under my breath. The cold tiles under my feet remind me it’s nearly the end of the season here. 

“I know. I know. The last time I said it, you became a mum at eighteen.”

“While trying to complete a degree.”

She winces. “But it was a one-off, and look at the cute nugget you had.”

I stare at my nearly-four-year-old, who squeezes her teddy and smiles, which makes my lips quirk. Her black curls surround her.

“Tomorrow we’re heading home.” Sasha doesn’t need to say anymore.

I rock on my feet, and my shoulders droop. We’re not excited to return, although she works at Tabi’s preschool. I’ll be dragging my heels to work at my parents’ carpet business.

“I researched universities offering master’s in sports psychology while you and Tabi were playing in the pool,” I explain as I lift my hands to my face to smell Tabi’s soap. The scent rarely leaves me, although now it’s fighting against my coconut suntan lotion.

“And?”

“It costs thousands. I can’t justify it. It’s difficult enough bringing up Tabi and working at my parents’ company. Adding studying to that will be impossible, and I need to earn money, not spend it.” I pick at a flake of paint on the doorway as my throat itches. “I probably won’t get a job at the end of it. I’d return to the drudgery of carpets with a useless master’s degree. I might as well stay there.”

She grabs my fiddling hand. “But you have dreams, Rosie.”

“But I don’t get to have them at the moment.” I adore Tabi, but sometimes I want to be more than Rosie, the mum to the most precious girl. I want to be a woman known for what she can achieve. “One day I’ll chase my dreams.” I sigh, my chest sinking.

“I can’t give you your dreams, but I can babysit Tabi while you have a night out. You slogged your guts out at university and didn’t get to socialise.” Sasha tucks her arm in mine. “Everyone partied while you changed nappies.”

“I did have some fun,” I stutter.

“Interning with your old rugby club’s sports psychologist isn’t the same as having a threesome with two hockey players,” she teases.

We giggle as we remember my classmate who fucked her way around campus while I was busy with middle-of-the-night feeds and studying.

“Go out tonight. For me. Have the fun you didn’t get to experience.”

I suck the pad of my thumb while I contemplate the chance to be a freer version of myself for one night. “You always bring me out of myself.”

She presses on, “Then trust me. Just one night out. You don’t have to do anything special or talk to anyone. Sit outside a bar, have a cocktail, and watch the sun go down. Don’t rule out hooking up with a sexy waiter, though.”

I fiddle with the hem of my T-shirt. “I’m sure they’d love to hook up with a single mum who hasn’t had sex since her one-night stand knocked her up. I’ve got nothing to wear. I’m frumpy and—”

“Then don’t tell them any of that. Say you’re Bella, not Rosie, and live like you would have if your precious girl hadn’t come into your life. Be someone not known as a mummy for one night. If your life hadn’t gone the way it did, you’d be playing rugby for England.”

I follow her to my suitcase, trying not to ruminate on how I’d be a coach instead of a player. I have dreams that I’ll never chase.

Sasha throws my cotton summer dress at me. I brought it to Greece and never wore it because my inner voice told me it makes me look ugly. I hate that judgemental cow.

“I’ll do your hair and make-up.” She moves my hair around as if already styling it. It’s nearly as limp as I feel. “I see your sadness that you’re returning to the carpet business. Have one night of fun. Pretend you’re not struggling with money worries because Tabi’s dad doesn’t know she exists. Please? You won’t listen to me when I tell you to work in admin at a sports company for experience—”

“As if they’d take me.” My shoulders sag, and she pulls them back.

“You need to regain your confidence and remember you once commanded a team of raging women on the rugby pitch, even though you were the smallest. You’re a powerhouse. Get your dress on, give me five minutes to make your eyes pop, and go flirt with a sexy Greek waiter or bad boy who’s on holiday.”

Tabi murmurs something about doggos while sleeping, ca. A smile tugs at my lips.

It’s one night.

What’s the worst that could happen?