I’m not touching this. No way. He needs to be the one to keep this conversation going.
“She’s … happy.”
His story on the way home from California? It makes sense now.
“That must sting, Shep. I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah. It’s life. Sucks that it’s mine. Well, I guess it’s really not, is it?” His attention returns to me. “I loved her. She’s pregnant. And it’s not my baby. Not my life. I’ll get to show up at her house, my old house, every week to pick up or return the dogs while she’s growing some other dude’s baby. Like a weekly gut punch as her belly expands over the next nine months.”
“That does suck.”
He nods again. “I can’t do this, Sophie.” His eyes look different, misted over with emotion I’m certain he’ll never release.
My stomach twists as a heavy ache settles over my chest.
“It’s selfish of me. I know this. I wish I had militant control over my thoughts and emotions, but I don’t. I bleed just like everyone else. I fall victim to irrational thoughts and random musings of my life before now.”
I return an incremental nod, but I don’t know why because I don’t understand where he’s going.
“In a matter of days, I found out that Millie is pregnant and so are you. And I can’t do it. I can’t watch you go through this pregnancy with someone else’s baby. And before you state the obvious, I know it’s not your baby either. But my stupid, unreasonable brain will self-destruct seeing you pregnant, wishing it were mine because I want that life. I just can’t seem to find the right person at the right time in my life to have that.”
It takes everything I have to keep from begging him to just wait. Wait for me to churn out this baby. Then I’ll give him one too. An original baby machine.
One for you.
One for you.
One for you.
Everybody gets a baby!
He’s waited long enough. It’s his turn. He deserves to find the right person who is in sync with him now, not later, not after a divorce when it’s too late, not after having someone else’s child.
My mom’s favorite line to Chloe and me when we were young was “there will be another.”
Another toy because the one I want is sold out.
Another friend because the one I had no longer wants to be my friend.
Another chance next year to try out for drill team.
Another dress since my best friend just bought the prom dress I wanted.
There will always be another.
Except, there won’t. There will never be another Shep.
“So this is it? Like a forever goodbye? No more outings. I stop shopping at Wag Your Tail. We just end it forever?”
“I can’t tell you where to shop. And I won’t say forever.”
“True. But if you could, would you tell me to shop at some other store?”
“Sophie …” He bows his head and closes his eyes.
I shake my head and take a few steps back. “That’s a yes.”
“Sophie …”
“No. I got my answer.”
“It wasn’t an answer.”
“Cersei!” I call her, keeping my focus on Shep. “I didn’t pursue you. I didn’t call you first. I didn’t invite you to Sedona. I didn’t ask to be your friend. And I definitely didn’t ask to be best friends. I told you I could give you one day at a time. I never promised to share everything with you. I did not mislead you. Just friends. You could have said no, but you didn’t.”
“I know.”
Why? Why does he have to be agreeable? He has no fight in him. I’m not wrong, but god … just fight me on it. Fight with me. Fight for me.
“It’s me,” he says. “It’s the fact that I could not have envisioned this situation. Not Millie. Not you. And I definitely could not have predicted or even imagined how I would feel, how the emotions I’ve suppressed would come to the surface and suffocate me. It’s an awful feeling, and no one is to blame. Still … I’m sorry. Even if you weren’t expecting anything from me, even if you didn’t want anything from me, I’m still sorry.”
I remain unmoving for several breaths, wordlessly telling him that I hear him. I acknowledge him and his feelings. With a slight nod, I accept his apology and turn. Taking a few more steps, I stop. “For the record, you were easy.” Swallowing hard, I blink out more tears. “The good kind of easy. You were what I n-needed when I didn’t know what or … w-who that was. So … thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
SHEP
“I’m getting a divorce.”
I line up my putter. “You don’t have to copy everything I do,” I say to Howie.
He uses his putter to do some side to side stretching as I replace the flag. “I think it’s a trend. I think one woman does it and the rest follow suit after they see the first friend who did it made it to the other side in one piece. Financially stable. Feeling the rush of freedom.” He grunts. “Completely delusional that they will find something better than they had.”