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“It may look like you’ve lost a lot. I choose to look at what you’ve gained. You found tennis when your mom and I got divorced. You’ve helped so many kids turn to writing because of what happened at Wimbledon. You found your passion and writing career through what your mother went through. And this.” He puts his hand on my stomach, and I tear up. “I know leaving Alex was incredibly difficult, but look what came out of that love.”

“Why are you so wise?

“Not wise, just longevity. Eventually, you see things with an aerial view. You were so young that all you could see was the pain right in front of you. You should be able to see a little bit past that now. Look forward, baby girl.”

I sit there in my dad’s arms with the bean inside of me, and not only can I see past the pain, but I also see the joy. The joy all around me. I will always miss him. But I have to get to a place where the bean and I can be happy with what he can give us, not what we want and deserve. We’ll have to accept him for him.

81

Tess

I’m nauseous today, which is good since I’m on a mini-tour. By doing this, I hope it softens the blow for Joan that I’m going to need some serious time off. She did NOT honor my request of not working in October. I still haven’t told her. Mikey and Ari didn’t figure it out when they visited me. I can mocktail with the best of them. They can all find out after he does.

I’m flipping my purple pen through my fingers and waiting on my burger at this hotel bar in Portland. I pull my blouse down over my bloated belly. It keeps riding up. The doctor said I will pop pretty soon, but for now, I look like I just guzzled a six-pack.

I glance up and drop my pen. It’s been two months and twenty-eight days since our night together and almost six months since we broke up. I’ve stopped listening to the podcast and waiting to figure out a life with him and started moving towards one without him. I really wasn’t up for defining my future today. But of course, he rewrites my plans again.

I stare straight ahead to catch my stolen breath. “Can I get a Booker and a glass of local Chardonnay?” The deep timbre of his voice undoes me.

I sip my club soda ignoring the wine that I desperately want. I eek out, “Mr. Bishop. Fancy seeing you here. Work?”

“Ms. McGuire.” He holds up his drink. My heart is beating like a hummingbird. “Work what?”

“Are you in town for work?” My voice is a little less squeaky.

He turns his body towards mine. “No. I’m in town for you.”

My breath catches again. If he’s here for me, just me, we’re in trouble. I’m no longer just me anymore.

“Are you ok?” I ask. I lean towards him, and the pregnancy hormones take over. My emotions live just below the surface these days. I tear up and have no filter left. I say the words that simmer in thoughts of him. “I thought my life was so big. And it’s so small. And so much smaller without you.” It’s the bravest thing I’ve ever said. I lean back, my blouse popping up again. I quickly pull it back into place.

He smiles that crooked little smile, and I’m unraveled. “I’ve missed your words. I’m afraid I won’t be quite as eloquent.” He takes my hand, and a light inside of me switches back on. Every thought and feeling I’d shut away is bursting through every crack he left in my heart. He slides a piece of folded paper and a pen towards me. I open it. It’s HR paperwork listing me as his emergency contact in purple Flair.

Tears fill my eyes. “I know you want me to accept this sweet romantic gesture, but I need your catalyst. I need to know this isn’t loneliness or guilt. I’m not her. I don’t want you to change for me, but I do want you to share your life with me. I want to be first, but I’ll share my spot sometimes.”

“I’m not lonely. I’m empty.” I squeeze his hand. “I was with my dad sitting on the deck…”

“It’s a good deck.”

He smiles resolutely at me. “It is. My mom was pulling groceries from the car. Dad and I were engaged in a heated debate, but she pulled focus. His entire essence lightened like his subconscious was smiling. She wasn’t even looking at him, and the atmosphere on the deck changed. He sat a little taller, his eyes were a bit brighter.”

I weave my finger in and out of his. “That’s romantic and sweet. They always know where the other one is in the room. I just used that detail in a book.”

He sits up straight. “I never noticed. He saw me staring and said, ‘Every time she walks in the room it’s like the first time I saw her and clearly pictured how my life would turn out.’”

“I know you. That’s not enough to rush to my side. Or to heal all the shit from your past.”

“It wasn’t, my intuitive girl.”

“Whether I’m your girl still remains to be seen.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Fair. He yelled at me about how I fucked up with you. He lectured me on what matters. He told me he doesn’t regret a single decision he’s ever made. He feels love outweighs any career loss. He work-shamed me. Then told me to stop giving my future away to Charlotte.”

“He’s not wrong.”

“All I could think about is I’m wired differently. How I’d never be able to come to that decision. That I was a lost cause. How could I give myself to someone again? How could I prioritize them over my needs? How do I make your needs matter? How do I fit you into my life and put you first?”

I sigh. “Alex.”