Page 87 of Baby for My Ex's Brother

She laughs and that laugh turns into moan when I reach into her pants. We end up at the counter, which is not where we planned to end up but is where we are.

She bends forward with her hands braced against the edge, and there’s enough room left for the curve of her stomach. She makes that low sound against her own forearm that I feel everywhere at once, raw and unguarded, the kind of sound she has stopped trying to hold back around me.

The counter is solid under her hands, and I keep one arm braced near hers, steady, watching the line of her spine, the way her hair has fallen forward over one shoulder, the small movements she makes that tell me exactly where she is and what she needs.

It ends with both of us breathing hard in the middle of the afternoon, her laughing softly into her own arm, me with my forehead against the back of her shoulder, and I think, not for the first time, that I did not know a body could become more compelling to me with time rather than less.

Hers has. I suspect it will keep doing that for the rest of my life.

Her phone buzzes on the counter while she’s catching her breath. She reaches for it, reads it, and laughs. “Cherry,” she says, by way of explanation. “Mike finally asked her to dinner. A real date, not a friend thing. He brought flowers. Real ones. He researched what kind she likes.”

“Good man.” I consider this. “Does he know she’s trans?”

“He should. She doesn’t hide it.”

“What happens if it doesn’t work out?”

She shrugs, still looking at her phone, thumb moving over another incoming message. “They’re both adults?—”

“She’s ten years older than him. And they couldn’t have children naturally—” I stop myself. “I dislike that phrase.”

“Yeah, me too.” She looks up. “But I know what you mean. I don’t think Mike is looking for anything but her, though. He’s had a thing for her for a long time.”

“Then good for him.” I mean it. “And good for her, if it goes the way he’s hoping.”

Luna glances up from her phone. “You’re getting soft.”

“I’m not getting soft.”

“You just expressed genuine concern for the romantic well-being of two people you barely know.”

“I expressed an opinion. There’s a difference.”

“There really isn’t,” she says, smiling, and goes back to her phone. She yawns, and I take this as my cue. I walk her to the bedroom with one hand at the small of her back, and she goes without argument, which tells me how tired she actually is.

“We should get Hairy a bigger tank,” I say, while she’s settling into the pillows. “And a companion. Goldfish do better with company.”

“Mm,” she says, eyes already closing. “Yeah. Get him a girlfriend.”

“Or a boyfriend. I’ll look into compatible species.”

“You’re very invested in this,” she murmurs, smiling without opening her eyes.

“I am,” I admit, and I mean it more than the lightness of the conversation suggests. The fish matters to her, which means the fish matters, and I have already spent more time than I will admit researching tank sizes and water chemistry.

She’s asleep within a minute. The baby takes more out of her these days than she’s used to. I’ve learned not to comment on it, just to let her rest when rest arrives.

I go to the window. I stand with my hands in my pockets and think about Hugo, which is not where I expected my mind to go, but it goes there anyway.

No one wants to marry you.

have thought about that sentence at odd moments without choosing to. I think about it now, standing at this window with Luna asleep behind me and a fish living a much better life than he started with, and I feel nothing.

Not anger. Not vindication, which would at least be something. Just the absence of a thing that used to have weight, clean and total, like a tooth that finally stopped aching one day, and you only notice because you go looking for the pain out of habit.

Those were his old words. He doesn’t say things like that anymore.

We talked the other day, and he congratulated me on everything with Luna with what sounded like genuine warmth. “Can’t say I’m not a little jealous. She’s going to be a wonderful wife and mother.”