“And I’m scared to death. What if he hates me? What if he thinks I kept her from him on purpose? What if he—” My voice catches. “What if he wants custody?”
“Rhea.” She puts a hand on my arm. “Breathe.”
I try.
“I’m going to see him again. Two weekends from now.”
She arches a brow. “And you’re going to tell him then?”
“That’s the plan. And hopefully before I sleep with him again,” I add, and she snorts.
“Good call.”
I glance toward Esme, humming to herself, completely absorbed in her Teddy Grahams.
“So… we get this little one for another overnight?” Laney grins.
“That would be great.” I say.
“You know I’ve got you. But, Rhea—are we naming this emotion? Because you’ve got about four of them battling it out on your face right now.”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Hope, maybe. Fear,definitely. But mostly? I think I just want her to know him. Him to know her.”
She nods, squeezing my hand. “It’s the right thing to want. The right thing to do.”
I know it is.
But my mind is racing.
TWENTY-FOUR
SPENCER
It’s not really two weeks. It’s only twelve days.
But twelve long days.
DAY1
One of my life’s greatest regrets was not reaching out the day after the gala. But I won’t let that happen again.
Text one, the words I’d wished I’d said:
That was fun. Let’s do it again. All of it.
Text two, five minutes later, because I don’t want her to think it was just about the sex.
Also, I need at least three book recommendations to pass the time between now and two weeks from now.
She doesn’t respond right away. I get it—she’s got her hands full. But finally, my phone vibrates:
Ensemble, c’est toutby Anna Gavalda.
I’ve read the English translation—Hunting and Gathering—but full-length novels in French are a stretch. Still, I accept the challenge.
Okay. Just as long as I have a tutor on standby.
DAY3
