"Don't screw this up. She's giving you a chance. And it's more than you deserve."
Click.
I sit holding the phone, staring at nothing.
Three months of therapy. Trust journals. Silent work.
Tomorrow I’ll see her.
I go back to the Notes app. Add one final line.
Week 12, Day 3 - 8:47 PM:Tomorrow I’ll find out if three months of work is enough. Afraid it won't be. More afraid of not trying. She's giving me a chance. That's all I can ask for.
I close the journal.
Walk to the window. Look out at the city lights.
Bailey is somewhere out there. Probably can't sleep either.
Tomorrow we'll be in the same room for the first time in three months.
I can't control the outcome. Can only show up and tell the truth.
Everything I've worked for comes down to one conversation.
And for the first time, I'm ready.
25
Bailey
I've been awake since 4 AM, rehearsing what I'll say.
By the time Gretchen finds me in the kitchen at six, I've written and deleted three different speeches in my head.
"You okay?" She starts the coffee maker—for her, not me. I get herbal tea now.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
"You're meeting him. Hearing what he has to say."
"What if it's all just words?" My hand finds my stomach automatically. "What if he hasn't actually changed?"
Gretchen sets a mug of tea in front of me. "Then you'll know. But Bay? You deserve to hear him out. Not for him—for you."
"What do I even say?"
"The truth. That's all you can do."
***
I change outfits three times.
The jeans that still button—barely. A loose sweater that hides the bump. My hair down, then up, then down again because I can't decide which makes me look more put together.
"You look beautiful," Gretchen says from the doorway.
"I look exhausted."
