"It's more than that." I admit what I've been afraid to say even to myself. "Sometimes I miss him." I press my palms against my eyes, willing away these thoughts. "How pathetic is that?"
"It's not pathetic. It's human." Izzy reaches across the table, pulling my hands away from my face. "First loves leave marks, girl. Especially when they've got that billionaire swagger and a jawline you could cut glass with."
Our food arrives and Izzy dives in immediately, seemingly unbothered by the heat that would melt most people's taste buds.
"Besides," she continues, gesturing with her fork, "you've got yourself not one but two smoking hot billionaires now. Two men who know about your pregnancy and are still all in. That's not nothing."
"They've been amazing," I concede, pushing rice around my plate. "Julian makes me laugh even when everything feels overwhelming. And Tristan—he’s so good at noticing things. Little details about what I need before I even realize I need them."
"So why are you still hung up on Mr. Control?"
I sigh, taking a small bite of curry. "I honestly don't know. Maybe because everything with him feels unfinished. Or maybe..."
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe things will change now that he knows about the baby," I say hesitantly. "Maybe he'll be... I don't know, better somehow."
Izzy studies me, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. "Do you want him to change? Are you hoping he'll swoop in and make everything right?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." I drop my face into my hands again. "God, I sound like an indecisive teenager."
"You sound like someone with a complicated life." Izzy's voice is gentler than usual. "Look, maybe Alexander will step up now that he knows about the baby. Maybe he'll be less of an asshole. But sweetie, don't bank on it."
"I know," I mumble through my fingers. "I'm not expecting anything. I just... I can't help wondering."
"Well, for what it's worth," Izzy says, scooping up more rice, "I think you've got a good thing going with Julian and Tristan. Don't let the asshole mess that up with his control-freak bullshit."
She's right, of course. Julian and Tristan have been nothing but supportive since they found out about the baby. They've given me space when I needed it, company when I was lonely, and never once made me feel like I was a burden or an inconvenience. Why am I still letting Alexander take up so much space in my head?
"Enough about my disaster of a love life," I say, forcing brightness into my voice. "Tell me about that date you had. The Tinder guy with the suspiciously perfect teeth."
Izzy's face transforms instantly, lighting up with mischievous glee. "Oh my god, you are not ready for this story." She sets down her fork for maximum dramatic effect. "So I show up at the restaurant, right? This swanky Italian place. And there he is—Eric, Mr. I-Own-My-Own-Business, looking exactly like his profile pictures, which was the first red flag because who actually looks like their profile pictures?"
I feel myself starting to relax as she launches into her tale, gesturing wildly with her hands.
"So I go to sit down, and he says, 'Oh, I hope you don't mind, but my mother wanted to meet you.' His mother, Camille. His actual mother is sitting there at our first date, with a notebook. A fucking notebook full of questions."
"No." I set my fork down, fully invested now. "You're making this up."
"I wish I was! She started grilling me immediately. 'Do you want children? How many? What's your relationship with your father like?' Like I'm interviewing for the position of brood mare, not having dinner with her son!"
I can't help it—I burst out laughing, the stress of the day cracking open to let in Izzy's ridiculous story. "What did you do?"
"I sat there answering questions for a full hour," she says, looking both traumatized and proud. "Eric barely spoke. Just nodded along while Mommy Dearest evaluated my childbearing potential. When she started asking about the regularity of my menstrual cycle—I shit you not—I faked a family emergency and ran."
By now I'm laughing so hard my sides hurt, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. Izzy grins, clearly pleased with the effect of her story.
"She called after me as I was leaving," she continues. "Said something about how finding a good wife for her son was a full-time job."
"Oh my god." I wipe at my eyes, still giggling. "That's horrific."
"Right? And you thoughtyourlove life was complicated." Izzy reaches across the table to steal a piece of chicken from my plate. "At least none of your men bring their mothers on dates."
"Yet," I say, making her snort. "Maybe Alexander's next move will be introducing me to his mom."
"If he tries that, I will personally kidnap you and take you to Mexico." Izzy raises her water glass. "Bestie’s promise."
I clink my glass against hers, feeling the knot in my chest loosen for the first time all day. There's something healing about Izzy's fierce loyalty and absurd humor. She doesn't try to fix myproblems or tell me what to do—she just makes me feel less alone in the mess.
