Isn't that the way it should go? I don't know Allison, but I cannot deny her a chance at a family. If I kept Aidan as mine, if I didn’t allow him the opportunity to participate in this experience fully, I’d never be able to forgive myself.
Aidan's gaze locks on mine, and my eyes fill up with tears. In all our years of friendship I've never seen Aidan cry, but right now there are tears rolling down his face.
He slips his hands through my hair and pulls my face to his. He kisses me softly, his lips dancing over mine. He pulls back an inch, and I feel the heat of his breath on my skin.
“You'll always be my Best.” His words tumble over me, his double meaning shooting straight into my ripped up heart.
I can't respond. If I dare to open my mouth, the only sound that will come from me will be sobs.
We sit on the floor and hold each other as the city comes to life around us. People are off work, meeting friends for happy hour, going to dinner with their partners. They have no idea that up here in this apartment, a decade of friendship is being tested by life. We made it through my marriage. But this? A baby is bigger than us. Bigger than the day I promised to love Henry forever.
In a tapestry, can pulling on a single loose thread unravel the whole thing?
* * *
Sydney callsat eleven o’clock that night after I’ve cried myself to sleep.
“What?” I ask, still half asleep.
“Nothing,” Sydney chirps. “Just calling to chat.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“It's not late. I just got done studying.”
Sydney's words run on top of one another and it's hard for me to understand her. Either that or I really am still sleeping.
“I was sleeping, Sydney.”
“Well, wake up.”
I don't have the patience for this. “I’m going back to bed. Goodbye.”
“C’mon, don't hang up. I haven't talked to you since Thanksgiving. Don't you want to talk about Mom? How was she? Was she drunk? Ha ha, stupid question. Of course she was. You haven't even asked me how my Thanksgiving was. It was lovely, in case you're wondering. Wait, didn't you go to Aidan's parents fancy Pound Ridge House? How was that?”
Sydney finally takes a breath, and my head is reeling from trying to keep up with all her questions.
“Everything was great. Let's talk tomorrow.” There's no way I'm telling her about everything right now. Even though she said she just finished studying, I think she might be drunk.
“Natalie,” she whines my name.
“Bye, Sydney." I hang up and switch my phone to do not disturb.
I lie there in the dark, trying my best to fall asleep, but it's elusive. I cannot stop my mind from running in circles, or alleviate the pain in the center of my chest. I get up, open my laptop, and pull up a new braiding tutorial. Once I have all my rubber bands and a brush, I hit play and get to work.
* * *
“I’m loving allthese new hairstyles,” Savannah says, lifting a fishtail braid off my shoulder. She examines the complicated plait, then drops it. It lands against my back with a soft thud.
“Thanks. I've been watching some YouTube tutorials.”Someis an understatement. I've been watchinga lotof YouTube tutorials. It has been ten days since the pregnancy bomb was dropped. Aidan and I talked on the phone the day after he told me, trying hard to communicate the way we did before we took our relationship to the next level, but it was forced and painful. After Allison’s appointment, I sent him a text message asking how it went. He confirmed that there is indeed a baby, and it looks a bit like a peanut. I haven't talked to him since that day. I cannot bring myself to pretend everything is fine whenfineis the last thing I am.
In hindsight, I wish we told everybody we were involved. Because nobody knew about our relationship, it's hard to tell anybody about our demise. My sister is the only person I've told. I called her back the day after her late-night phone call, and she confirmed that after she finished studying, she took two shots of tequila to help her relax. We laughed about it until my laughter was replaced with tears. I told Sydney everything, and never before have I wished so badly that we were in the same city. A hug from her might make me feel a little better. And even a little better is better than how I feel right now.
“Do you mind if I poke through your closet?” We've been sitting on the couch for the last hour watchingHouse Huntersand waiting for Savannah’s boyfriend to go to work. On Friday nights he tends bar at a swanky uptown place, which means we drink for free. “I’m not feeling my wardrobe tonight.”
I wave a hand toward my bedroom. “Have at it.”
She claps her hands twice and gets up, going to my room. I follow her in and sit on the bed, watching her inspect my clothes. She pulls out the dress I wore to the wedding and holds it up to herself. Turning right and left, she says, “This is a sexy little number. Where did you wear this?”
