“Uh-huh. And I’m the freaking Queen of England.” She sighs. “Look, I’m not asking for details. That’s your business. But I saw the way you two were this morning. The sexual tension in the air was like mustard gas. I’m not eveninvolvedin your drama and it still got me feeling weird. And now, you’re biting his head off for wanting to drive you to a doctor’s appointment? It’s not crazy of him to ask, you know. He did play a rather key role in putting this bun in the oven.”
“I need to do this by myself,” I insist numbly. “There are some things I just have to do on my own.”
“Butwhy?”
Why, indeed?Important question. Central to the whole affair.
“Because he’s not going tobehere, Yas,” I croak. “After we deal with Aleksei and all of this is over, Bastian is going to disappear. That was the deal. So what’s the point of getting used to him being around? What’s the point of letting him come to appointments and hold my hand and—” I swallow hard. “No. I can’t build a life in my head that doesn’t exist. I can’t let myself want something I’m never going to have.”
The bathroom goes quiet except for my ragged breathing.
“Oh, honey.” Yasmin’s arms wrap around me, pulling me into a hug that smells like her eucalyptus body wash. “I get it, I do. But pushing him away because you’re scared of losing him… That’s still losing him. Just on your terms instead of his. Kind of like cutting off your nose to spite your face, as my Great Aunt Marianne used to say.”
“At least it won’t hurt as much if I’m the one doing the cutting,” I whisper into her shoulder.
“Won’t it, though?” She pulls back, and I can feel her studying my face. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like it’s hurting plenty already. Both of you.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
“Well, whatever you decide,” Yasmin says softly, squeezing my hands, “I’m with you. But make sure you’re choosing what youactuallywant. Not just what feels safest. Sometimes, the safe choices come back to bite you in the ass the hardest.”
32
ELIANA
sterile field /'ster?l feld/: noun
1: sanitized, contaminant-free workspace for food safety.
2: the cold room where they look inside you while you’ve never felt more alone.
Leave it to the lone man at the women’s clinic to make himself the center of attention.
The guy, whoever he is, is being really obnoxious. In a room full of women gestating with the miracle of life, he’s badgering the receptionist with incessant questions about parking validation like it’s the most important thing in the world.
Is it three hours or four? Should I have brought quarters? Are you sure I won’t get towed?
And yet instead of telling him to cool it, his wife comes up to him and says, “It’s gonna be alright, honey. Come sit with me.” She laughs fondly, indulgently, the laugh of a woman who knows beyond all reasonable doubts that she’s loved. I hear the manlaugh self-consciously, apologize to the receptionist if he was being difficult, and join his wife in a seat.
I hate them both so much. More like my jealousy is manifesting as hate. Whatever.
“First baby?”
The voice comes from my left. I turn toward it, pasting on what I hope is a pleasant expression. “Oh. Uh, yes. First one.”
“How exciting! You must be thrilled.” The woman claps in delight for me. “Is your partner parking the car?”
“No, I—” I swallow. “He, uh… he couldn’t make it today.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Work?”
“Something like that.”
My hand drifts toward my phone. I could call Bastian, if I wanted to. He’d be here in twenty minutes. Maybe less, if he drove like the maniac I know he is.
I stop myself.
This is whatIchose. Backing out now would be a compromise of my own values. I picked this hill—time to die on it.
