“Samantha mentioned she ran into you and Grant yesterday.”
I nod.Okay, here it comes.
Victoria's still smiling. The barista appears with her cappuccino, and she accepts it with a gracious nod. "Sounds like Grant is quite taken with you, yes?"
I'm not sure if that's a question or a statement. "We're... together. Yes."
"How marvelous." She takes a delicate sip of her cappuccino. "Young love. It's so refreshing, isn't it? That intensity. That mystery."
Young love. The words land like a slap reminding me—reminding both of us—that I'm young.Tooyoung for her ex-husband.
"I wouldn't call it young love," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "We're both adults. And I’m pregnant with twins."
"Yes, yes, I heard." Her smile never wavers. "And I didn't mean to imply that you’re not an adult. It's just—well, there's something particularly fierce about passion when you're in your twenties, isn't there? Before life teaches you to be more... measured."
Before life teaches you. Like I'm a child who hasn't learned any better yet.
My hands tighten around my coffee cup. "I'm twenty-four. And I’ve had plenty of life lessons."
"Oh, I’m sure." She waves a dismissive hand, rings glinting in the afternoon light. "And I hear you're building some sort of business, aren't you? Perfume?"
"Yes. Natural, sustainably sourced fragrances."
"How lovely." The way she says it makes it sound like a charming hobby. "Grant always did appreciate ambition. When I met him, he was a nobody. A kid from Queens with big dreams and no money." Her expression turns nostalgic. "We built his empire together, you know. Twenty years of partnership. I was there for every acquisition, every deal, every success."
Twenty years. The number hangs between us, a lifetime compared to my eight weeks.
"That must have been rewarding," I manage.
"Oh, it was. Is." She corrects herself deliberately. "Being part of something that significant—helping shape it from the ground up—there's nothing quite like it. We're not together romantically anymore, but Grant and I, we'll always be connected. We share a daughter, after all. A history. You can't erase twenty years."
Her message is crystal clear. You're temporary–even if you are pregnant with his babies. I'm permanent.
I should leave. Should make an excuse and get out of here before she draws more blood. But I'm frozen, watching her sip her cappuccino with that perfect smile.
"Samantha mentioned your conversation yesterday was… interesting." Victoria's tone is conversational, but her eyes are sharp.
Interesting. That's one way to describe it.
"It was a difficult conversation," I say carefully.
"Of course it was. Poor thing, she's having such a hard time with the divorce still." Victoria sighs, all maternal concern. "And now to find out her father is involved with someone so—well, so different from what she's used to. And she’s going to have half-siblings soon. It's a lot for her to process."
Different. Another careful word choice. Different meaning younger, less sophisticated, less worthy.
"I understand it's an adjustment," I say.
"You're very gracious." Victoria's smile sharpens. "I'm sure it can't be easy, stepping into a family with such deep roots. Grant and I, we've known each other since we were your age.”
My throat feels tight and I can’t think of anything to say.
"And then there's the matter of his... patterns." She whispers the word, like she's sharing a secret. "Grant is wonderful, truly. But he does have a tendency to be—how shall I put this—enthusiastic about new ventures. New interests." Her eyes meet mine. "New people."
The implication is a knife between my ribs; I'm not special, just his latest interest.
"But the thing about Grant," Victoria continues, stirring her cappuccino with a tiny spoon, "is that when the initial excitement fades, he always comes back to what's familiar. What's comfortable. What's real." She gestures between us. "Twenty years of history doesn't just disappear because of a few exciting weeks."
A few exciting weeks. That's all she sees—a temporary distraction Grant will tire of. And when he does, he’ll leave me and the babies behind.
