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Kit:Happy Thanksgiving! You feeling okay?
Collins is in Connecticut with her family. I’m in New York with mine. This time next year, we’ll have a kid.
Do we split up holidays?
Do we spend them together?
We still haven’t discussed custody or childcare or had any of those important conversations about our shared future for the next eighteen years. And May isn’t getting any farther away, only closer.
I watch the screen, but no reply comes through.
She’s probably busy with her family. I’ve only met Collins’s mom and sister once, when Lili moved into the dorms freshman year. Her dad I know as a stoic professor, who I’m unsure ever made the connection my sister roomed with his daughter. When I asked him to say hello to Collins for me at graduation, he hardly reacted, and the ceremony was too chaotic for me to explain why.
I head into the closet and change into a navy suit on autopilot.
I moved the sonogram from my bedside table and into my sock drawer before Bash arrived yesterday. The pregnancy books are hidden under the bed since no one in my family knows about the baby. My parents would probably provide notice before showing up, but my siblings both have keys and probablywouldn’t.
As far as I know, Collins is still intent on changing jobs. Telling my family I knocked up my former assistant sounds slightly better than my current one. And so will having answers to all the open questions about what us co-parenting will look like when I share the big news.
I pull the photo of my baby out of the drawer and stare until it blurs.
I wish there were a way to go back to the morning I received it. To ignore Perry’s message when it popped up on her phone.
That argument isn’t the only reason things are strained between us right now. Everything felt more real after the ultrasound. At least for me. I’m not the one having to deal with nausea and heartburn, so it’s probably felt pretty real to Collins for a while.
I’ve been trying to give her space, to respect her boundaries and follow her lead. But we’re overdue for a big conversation, and the perfect text was supposed to set the tone for it.
There’s still no reply from Collins when I slip my phone into a pocket, along with my wallet, and walk down the hallway. Not entirely unexpected. Even if she has seen it, it’s not like I sent anything that required an immediate response. But the lack of one still chafes.
Bash is waiting by the door, tossing a glass paperweight the interior decorator placed on the entryway table between his hands.
I grab my keys out of the matching bowl and head out the door without saying a word.
“Everything okay?” Bash casts me a worried look as we wait for the elevator to arrive.
“Fine,” I answer.
He appears unconvinced. “You’re acting weird.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are. Is it work? Bosses being dicks or something?” He chuckles at his own joke.
My bosses are Dad and Uncle Oliver, technically.
I don’t crack a smile as I shove my hands into my pockets, leaning back against the wall. “Or something.”
Bash is right; I’m acting off. I’m accustomed to having control in certain circumstances. This situation is the first time I’ve felt so limited. What if Collins is reconsidering moving back to Connecticut right now, and that’s why she’s not replying? Her living in Brooklyn feels close by comparison.
The elevator stops a few seconds later. Not in the lobby, unfortunately.
Sadie smiles wide as she steps inside. She’s dressed up, same as weare, her hair in a fancy twist and a full face of makeup enhancing her pretty features. “Hey, Kit,” she greets cheerfully.
I manage a friendly smile in response. “Hi.” I nod toward Bash, who’s attempting to look cool and uninterested. “This is my brother, Bash. Bash, this is Sadie.”
She giggles, glancing between us. “I would have guessed you two were related. Nice to meet you, Bash.”
He grins. “You too, Sadie.”