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“Sounds about right,” Fallon said.

“I was going to head home, but I figured—maybe you could use a little company. Or a distraction. Or someone to help you polish off leftover cake.”

“There’s a lot more than cake left.”

“Already in the car,” Billie said.

Fallon put her phone down and looked around the quiet house. A tiny plastic dinosaur peeked out between the couch cushions as if it hadn’t gotten the memo that the party was over. She picked it up and placed it in the toy box.

Then she sat on the couch.

Then stood up again.

The silence stretched, making her feel more restless. She wandered to the window and looked out into the dark yard, barely visible now in the porch light. Becky was in labor. Dave was pacing. Riley was by Becky’s side. Andi too. The people she loved most were caught in this impossible, sacred middle space—waiting.

Fallon hated waiting.

She leaned a shoulder against the window and pressed her forehead lightly to the cool glass. What would it feel like, she wondered, when it wasthem? When it washerin that hospital room?

Two weeks.

Two weeks until they’d make their first attempt. Artificial insemination. It sounded so clean and clinical—but also terrifying. Not because she didn’t want it. She wanted it more than anything.

Fallon had always been a doer. Build a plan, take the steps, andfix the problem. But this? This required waiting. Hoping. Trusting the odds.

It would hurt. And it was more than knowing what Riley would endure physically. It was the vulnerability of it. The possibility of disappointment. The risk of dreaming too vividly, too soon.

Fallon couldn’t seem to help herself.

She imagined Riley squeezing her hand during the first ultrasound. Imagined hearing a heartbeat. Holding their baby. Introducing Owen to his sibling. Watching Riley fall in love allover again, this time with someone new, everyone commenting on who their child resembled—who they might become.

Her eyes stung, and she blinked hard.

Riley wasn’t even pregnant yet. It could take months. It could take longer. But the hope was already in her bloodstream. And that, she realized, was the scariest part.

A knock at the door made her jump.

She wiped at her eyes and crossed the room quickly, pulling the door open to find Billie standing there with two bottles of UFO White Ale.”

“Did I bring the right medicine?” Billie asked.

Fallon smiled. “You did.”

Billie stepped inside and slipped off her shoes. “You look a little pale, Fallon."

“Just the waiting game.”

“Something tells me it’s a little more than waiting to hear about Becky and Dave’s baby."

Fallon closed the door behind Billie and nodded toward the couch. “Want to sit?”

Billie handed her one of the bottles. “Only if you’ll drink with me.”

Fallon led them into the living room and dropped onto the couch with a sigh. Billie settled beside her, kicking her feet up on the ottoman like she’d done a hundred times before. They drank in silence for a few beats.

“You’re not wrong,” Fallon said.

“About what?”