And then my gaze is drawn to a small rectangle of paper sticking out from beneath the apartment door.
My heart clenches in my chest. It could just be one of the neighbors, putting in a note about a neighborhood party orsomething, but as I stoop down to pull it out, I realize that my hands are shaking.
I don’t believe it could be something that simple.
I don’t know if I deserve that kind of peace…
I unfold it slowly, and I recognize the lettering on the inside at once; it’s the same kind I used to come home from college to find scattered around the apartment I shared with Thom, back when he would lay out a million chores for me to do as soon as I came home. He would tell me it was just so I could feel like I was pulling my weight, given that he paid for everything, but I can see now that he was just trying to do his level best to make it impossible to keep up with my studies and live with him at the same time.
Thinking of you. T.
That’s all it says. I flip the note over a few times in my hand, like more words might manifest right there in front of my eyes, but they don’t.
It’s from him. It has to be.
I look around the cramped corridor, wondering if he’s still here. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, like he could be watching me right where I stand, a sickness twisting in my gut.
And the twins—God, does he know about the twins? Is that what this is about? Is he trying to intimidate me like he did before, scare me into getting back with him at the risk of putting my babies in the firing line?
My hands still shaking, I push the key into the lock and push the stroller inside, crumpling the note in my hand.
This isn’t going to scare me. I’m not going to let it. I got away from him once, and if he thinks for a fucking second that I’m going to let him frighten me, he has another thing coming. He’s the pathetic one, not being able to move on after all this time, the asshole who can’t accept that it’s over and that I don’t want a thing to do with him again…
But before I know it, my legs are crumpling out from underneath me, and I sink to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Just like that, I’ve been thrown back into the midst of everything he did to me, the terror he inflicted on me. And now he knows where I live. He wants to make that very, very clear. And if he was jealous enough that I was so much as keeping friends…
I can’t imagine how he’s going to react when he discovers that I have babies by a whole other man.
10
MARTIN
I glanceto the door again, wondering if she’s going to show up at all. It’s nearly half-seven; I arrived early, making sure that the table was ready for us and everything was in order. Ridiculous, I know, since Morton’s has never let me down, but tonight of all nights, I need everything to be perfect.
It’s been just over a week since she came to the hospital and I surprised her at the appointment. I’ve been running it through my head ever since, trying to work out if I played it wrong, if I messed up by springing my presence on her the way I did.
But, a couple of days ago, she texted me to tell me that she wanted to go through with the dinner, and we arranged to meet for a meal here on Saturday night. I insisted on paying for her taxi, but she told me she had childcare covered—her cousin, she mentioned to me. I’m glad she has some kind of family around here to help her. Martha and I struggled enough raising a kid between us, and I can’t imagine what it would be like to deal with double the trouble at half the support?—
Finally, I hear a voice at the door. I whip my head around to see Lila standing there, speaking to the hostess, looking a little nervous. As well as looking hot as hell.
Not that that’s what this dinner is meant to be about.
She’s wearing a black dress that comes down to mid-thigh, and shows off a generous amount of her curvy body. Even so soon postpartum, she looks perfect to me, her hair loose around her shoulders, exuding femininity. I lift a hand to catch her attention, and as soon as she sees me, she smiles.
“Hey,” she murmurs as she comes over to join me. “This place…it’s a little fancier than I was expecting.”
“Oh, is it?” I remark, glancing around. To me, Morton’s is a pretty laid-back venue, at least compared to most of the restaurants I frequent in the city. Martha got me used to the nicer side of life here in New York, and sometimes I forget that not everyone operates at the same level of luxury she does.
“Yeah, but the food looks amazing,” Lila adds, sinking down into the seat opposite me.
A candle flickers on the table between us, casting a warm glow over the white cloth. I’ve already ordered a bottle of sparkling water for the table, not wanting to put alcohol into the equation. Part of it, of course, is that she’s still breastfeeding, but I’m all too aware of what happened the last time the two of us were drinking together, and I don’t want tonight to go the same way.
At least, that’s what I have to tell myself.
“They’ve never let me down,” I remark, as the waiter appears with a pair of leather-bound menus. Italian music pipes through the speakers around us, the low hum of conversation floatingover from the other tables, and Lila sneaks a look at me over the top of her menu. Her eyes are sparkling.
If I didn’t know better, I would say that she thought this was a date…
