Present day . . .
The best way I can describe how badly I want a child is to say I’ve always seen myself as a mother. A lot of girls do, but it wasn’t just that I thought having children was something I was supposed to do or something I might like. It was part of my identity before I was old enough to understand how it all worked. Like every other little girl who plans to be a mommy, I grew up believing that my ability to bear children was a foregone conclusion. I was so sure that once Harrison and I started trying, we’d be able to get pregnant. After all, if I’d spent years before putting a lot of effort into trying not to get pregnant, getting pregnant should be easy, right?
In reality, it wasn’t so simple, and month after month, motherhood was a dream kept just beyond my reach. When my body wouldn’t cooperate, my heart felt raw with the effort of wanting. Try after try left me with an empty nursery and empty arms, and the vacancy in my womb grew unbearable. It felt as if the more I wanted a child, the further it fell from my reach, until I was grieving the loss of a child who’d never been conceived. The magnitude of that grief built a wall between me and my husband until he was so lonely he sought comfort in another woman’s arms.
And look how happy they are now. Harrison’s chest is puffed with pride, and his wife is glowing. She’s the picture-perfect expectant mother today, wearing a light pink chiffon dress with a big bow at the top of her baby bump. And I hate her desperately.
The baby shower is at a local winery, which seems a little thoughtless to the mother-to-be who can’t partake, but that would be consistent with Harrison’s personality. If a baby shower at a winery speaks of his social class and importance more than a baby shower somewhere else, then that’s what he’s going to want, regardless of the preferences of the mother of his child.
It’s a crisp early spring day, and the dining room doors are open to the patio. The place looks amazing—tables dressed with white cloths and pink napkins folded into little cranes at each spot. The centerpieces are made of light pink peonies and white roses, and look like something you’d see at a high-budget wedding. In fact, the whole party rivals some of the nicer wedding receptions I’ve attended. Lunch was four courses, each served with its own wine pairing, and the cake is as tall as Jake’s niece.
The baby shower probably would have made me sick to my stomach if I didn’t have Jake here by my side, quietly whispering his commentary on the food, décor, and the behavior of the parents-to-be.
We’ve just been served cake—an Ooh La La! creation and, so far, the best part of this day—and we’re sipping at our fresh cups of coffee when Harrison makes his way to the empty seat beside me. He props his elbows on the table as he takes us in.
“I’m so glad you could make it, Ava,” he says in his best salesman voice.
Jake slings his arm over the back of my chair and scoots toward me.
I smile. “Yes, I wanted to congratulate you in person.”
Jake squeezes my shoulder.
Harrison’s gaze darts between my face and Jake’s, then settles on Jake’s hand on my shoulder. “I see you’re still dragging poor Jake around.” He shakes his head. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, Jake. You’re a better sport about it than I am. I don’t even like going to these things with my wife, let alone just a friend.”
Jake smiles next to me, totally unfazed by Harrison’s attempt at cruelty. “I’d go anywhere with Ava,” he says. “I mean, we can have a good time watching paint dry, so if she wants company at your baby shower, I’m happy to oblige. Besides, I get her to myself all next weekend, so I’m trying not to be too greedy.”
“Is that so?” Harrison shakes his head. “Well, you two have a good time.” He pushes back from our table and walks to the next.
I feel small. Like I’ve been caught playing a game. My ex knows better than anyone that there’s nothing between me and Jake. Harrison and I were together for years. He saw that Jake and I were the perfect example of how a man and a woman could have a truly platonic relationship.
I look down at the napkin I’ve crumpled into a ball in my lap. The happy pink taunts me. They’re having a girl.
“Hey,” Jake says. He takes my chin in his hand and tilts my face up to his. “Don’t let that asshole get you down.”
I swallow hard. “I was foolish to think he’d care.”
“He does care, Ava. Seeing me here with you is making him crazy. I bet he’s watching us right now, isn’t he?”
I take my eyes off Jake’s to look over his shoulder. Harrison’s still at the table beside ours. He’s nodding as if he’s listening to the conversation, but I catch his gaze on us before he yanks it away.
“The only foolish thing,” Jake says, bringing my attention back to him, “is that you still want him to care.”
“I . . .” I wince and shake my head. I wish I didn’t. Harrison’s opinion of me and my life shouldn’t matter at all. “It’s immature, but I want him to feel like he lost something good when he walked away from me.”
“He might never say it, but he knows he did.” The fingers on my chin fan out, sliding over the sensitive skin under my ear before moving back up into my hair. I know what he’s doing and how this looks from Harrison’s perspective, and though it’s small and probably proves I’m petty, I’m grateful. “You wanted more than you got out of that relationship. You gave more than you received.” He strokes a thumb along my jaw. “But I promise you, there are better things coming.”
Affection swells in my chest. Sometimes people say nice things to make you feel good, but you know in your heart you don’t deserve the kindness. But when someone you’ve known this long wishes you well, when someone who knows all your flaws, shortcomings, and neuroses believes in you, it means more. “Thank you.”
He hums, his eyes dropping to my mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Ava.”
I hear my quick inhale. “Now?”
His eyes remain on my lips as if he needs to catalog every millimeter he wants to taste. “Yeah. It’s not going to be the kind of kiss I want, but the kind I want will have to wait for when I have you alone.” He dips his head and sweeps his lips across mine.
Tingles radiate through my limbs. A spiral of warmth coils in my belly, and he does it again, lightly nipping at my bottom lip before pulling away. I take a fistful of his shirt, trying to keep him close. I’m so full of sensations and longing for more that I can’t breathe.
“That should do it,” he says. He slides his mouth to my ear and whispers, “He never deserved you.”