Page 16 of Desperate Games

I want in.

And not because of status.

Not because of power.

Or money.

I want in because of her.

Andy.

And if she’s at that dinner?

Well then, let’s just say, things are going to get a lot more interesting.

Chapter Four-Andrea

“Andrea, you know you can stay home longer, as long as you need,” Mom says gently as the car pulls to a stop at the top of the driveway.

Dad’s on the phone, thank God.

Which means he’s not part of this conversation—and that’s a blessing.

The last thing I need is him fussing over me.

Look, I love my parents. I do. But sometimes they can be a lot.

And maybe that’s part of it—growing up in the shadow of their unshakable love story.

Because I’ve spent my entire life wanting what they have.

Even now, all these years later, I still want it.

I want to be a mother. So badly, it’s like this ache under my ribs.

This quiet, constant drumbeat that never goes away.

Some kids dream about being astronauts or presidents or groundbreaking scientists.

Not me.

Sure, I liked school. I’ve built a career I don’t hate. But honestly? Most of that just feels like filler.

Something to do while I wait for the real part of my life to begin.

The part where I build something lasting.

A family. A home. A future.

And no—it’s not some cop-out fantasy, so kindly fuck right off if you think it is.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a parent?

Imagine it from beginning to end.

Planning to bring a whole human being into the world. Growing that life inside your body. Pushing it out into the world through hours of sweat and blood and pain—and then? You get to spend the rest of your life worrying about them more than you worry about yourself.

Every minute. Every day. Forever.