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It was another part of the equation that Tessa couldn’t stop thinking about. Something deeper passed between them, the same as when they first met at that press conference. The familiarity, the certainty that they had met before.

“Would it be mad to ask her?” Tessa asked before she could stop herself.

“I want to say no, but it is,” Billie said. “She’s only just getting to know this version of herself. You don’t want to overwhelm her. Plus, the idea might give her false hope that you’ll relent because of the soulmate thing.”

Tessa groaned. “Seriously, damn you and your logic. I thought you were supposed to have pregnancy brain or something.”

“Nope, none of that for me, I’m just hungry and horny all the time,” Billie said.

She reached for a handful of crisps and sprinkled chocolate and gummy bears over them before she stuffed everything into her mouth.

Tessa curled her lip in disgust as her friend chewed with chipmunk full cheeks, moaning to herself as she swallowed the ungodly concoction. When Billie finished, Tessa crossed herself and her friend.

“Fuck off, I’m pregnant,” Billie said, swatting at Tessa.

“I’m praying the baby doesn’t come out as if he’s had a Red Bull,” Tessa teased. “All that sugar you’re giving him—the wee critter doesn’t stand a chance.”

Billie chuckled and took a sip of her drink. “‘He’ eh?”

Tessa shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

A slow smile parted Billie’s lips as she looked down at her tummy. Tessa couldn’t help but smile too. Billie deserved a happily ever after.

Tessa got distracted when her phone lit up from its place on the table. She glanced at the screen, and Jamie’s name appeared beside the new text icon. Curious, Tessa opened it.

Jamie

If you were coming in the Fall,

I’d brush the Summer by

With half a smile, and half a spurn,

As housewives do, a Fly.

Tessa’s brow furrowed. “The fuck?”

“What?” Billie asked, glancing between the phone and Tessa’s face.

“It’s Jamie, she’s sending me. . . poetry?”

Another text appeared with the next stanza.

If I could see you in a year,

I’d wind the months in balls—

And put them each in separate Drawers,

For fear the numbers Fuse—

She texted the entirety of the poem, but one stanza in particular stuck out to Tessa. The second to last, which read:

If certain, when this life was out—

That yours and mine should be

I’d toss it yonder, like a Rind,