“Really? When?”
“Months ago. But I actually knew long before that.”
She quirks a brow, curious, and waits silently for me to explain.
“Bea drew a picture of the two of them on top of a cake. When I asked her about it, she said Uncle Ezra told her there would be a surprise.”
Claire giggles. “Remind me never to tell that girl my secrets.”
I laugh back. “That would be smart.”
“So why did you seem upset, then?”
Her fingers graze mine in an invitation and I accept by twining them together.
“Am I a bad brother if I say I’m relieved they’re having a shotgun wedding at city hall?”
The look on her face is anything but accusatory when she asks, “What would make you think that?”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”
I pull my hand away, but she stops me. Grounds me.
“Asher. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You should know by now that I’d never judge you.”
My body deflates. She’s right. Claire has a way of putting me at ease. Must be a skill she learned in medical school.
Exhaling, I admit what I’ve been selfishly holding inside for a long time. “I’m not ready for a wedding. Last year, a buddy asked me to be a groomsman, and even then, I couldn’t get myself to do it. He understood why I bailed and never once gave me a hard time about it, but…” I swallow thickly, digging for the strength to say the rest.
Claire squeezes my hand and rubs her thumb back and forth softly.
“I—I’m so happy for my sister. Truly. Ezra is perfect for her—for our family—but the white dress, the flowers, the traditions… it just makes me think of my—of Daisy.” A swell of emotion nearly knocks me over, but I remain upright.
“It’s okay to think about your wife,” she assures me.
“Please don’t call her that,” I mumble.
For the first time, Claire’s neutral expression falters and morphs into one of shock.
“But—”
“I know,” I cut her off with more intensity than intended. “Shewasmy wife. But she’s gone, Claire. She’s fucking gone.”
I don’t even register the tear that escapes until a delicate finger swipes it off my cheek.
“Hey, hey, hey,” she shushes. “She will always be your wife. Even when you remarry, she’ll still be yours.”
I huff out a sob. “Yeah, I don’t see that happening.”
“What do you mean?” Frowning, she angles in, searching myexpression. “Don’t you want Bea to have a motherly figure in her life?”
“She already does. She has Millie. She has—”Youis on the tip of my tongue, but I stop myself. “She has my mom and Natalie. Joey, even.”
Claire bites her lip like she’s holding back, but she doesn’t keep her thoughts to herself for long. “You can’t mean that. Bea should have another parent. She deserves to see you share your life with someone.”
This time I do retract my hand from hers. “I’ve done just fine as a single dad.”
“Shit. You know that’s not what I meant.” She heaves out a loud breath. “Of course you’ve done fine. More than fine. You’ve done a remarkable job raising Bea. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone for the rest of your life.”
