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ANDI

Oh, boy.

What does it mean?

I sit for a long time at my desk with my phone in my hand, thinking about Ford’s message.

Willa is back.

Things will be sorted out.

That’s good.

Then why do I feel so gloomy?

My limbs feel heavy.

I just want to go to bed.

I don’t know what Willa’s going to want now.

Will she just take Tilly and disappear again?

My heart hurts for Ford if that happens.

He loves his daughter and he wants to be a father to her.

Willa has to recognize that.

But I don’t know her at all.

She left her child with a stranger (albeit with a biological link), so I’m not convinced she has her child’s best interests in mind.

Or anyone else’s for that matter.

It’s admirable that she went to care for her parents, but she was gone months .

It wasn’t fair to Ford to do that.

Or to Tilly.

So it won’t be a surprise if she takes Tilly and goes.

And that will mean I no longer have a reason to help Ford.

I drop my phone and lean my head on my desk on folded arms.

I feel like the world is slowly spinning around me, and heaviness lodges in my stomach.

Things will go back to the way they were before.

That’s what Ford and I agreed on.

He’ll be my neighbor.

My friend.

I’ll ask him to fix a leaky tap.

He’ll…

well, he’s never needed much from me before Tilly arrived.

I abandon any pretense of working and trudge to my bedroom.

I lie down on the bed.

I think about my life before.

I worked my ass off to get my consulting business going.

I saw Elodie and my other friends sometimes.

I went home with men sometimes.

But holy crap, does that existence ever seem lonely now.

Kind of like right after my divorce, when I was bereft and depressed and broken.

Elodie said I can survive anything, because I survived that.

But right now, the excruciating emotions make me not so sure of that.

It’s crazy.

Tilly is not my daughter.

Ford is not my husband or even boyfriend, really.

It should be easier to recover from losing them.

So why does it hurt so much?

Hot tears slide from the corners of my eyes and into my hair.

I let them flow.

I let myself wallow in misery for a little while.

But I can’t do it for long, because Lieve is looking after Tilly and it’s time to pick her up.

I wash my face with cold water and brush my hair, then go over to Ford’s place.

“Hi!” I call to Lieve as I enter.

“Hi, Andi!”

“How’s my girl?” I ask her, walking over to where Tilly is lying on her playmat with the little gym above her.

She’s batting at colorful plastic flowers and babbling away.

Adorable.

“She’s good today. Very happy.” She gives me an update on feeds and diaper changes and sleep.

Tilly sees me and her babbles change and her arms reach out.

A hot softness fills my chest.

“Hi, baby girl.” I get down on the floor and reach for her.

She knows now when we’re going to pick her up.

“Hi! Are you having fun?” I give her kisses and a little squeeze.

I look at Lieve.

“I’ll stay here for a bit, since she’s having fun with this.”

“Sounds good.” Lieve stands and goes to get her coat and purse.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I play with Tilly, admiring her, trying to imprint her little features into my memory in case I don’t have much time left with her.

I’ll probably see her again—Ford does live next door to me—but…

I don’t know how that’s going to go.

Ford and I might not even be friends anymore.

I know we talked about it and said we could do that, but I didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

And I can’t imagine seeing him on the reg as just a friend.

What if he meets someone else?

I don’t think I could bear that.

I shake a rattling toy for Tilly and she grabs it away from me.

Maybe, if Ford and I are done with whatever this is, I should move away.

A knife twists in my heart at that thought, but I also think about how hard it will be to see him, to see Tilly, if we’re not even friends anymore.

I’ll look into real estate listings later and see what’s out there.

When Tilly grows fussy, I pick her up.

I was going to take her to my place for the night, but it’s easier to just stay here.

And I might only have a few nights left in Ford’s bed.

I change her and get her settled in her little cot.

Then I slump on Ford’s couch with my phone.

The game doesn’t start for a few hours yet.

I shouldn’t even watch it.

But I do.

It’s a train wreck.

Mostly for Ford.

What is up with him?

He jumps a guy!

Everyone ends up fighting and Ford gets a penalty!

Does that mean he has to sit in the penalty box?

No, apparently not.

Oh, another player sits there for him.

He stays in goal.

I don’t know if that’s fair but those are the rules.

Tilly wakes up and I’m pulled away from the game for a few minutes to change her diaper and get a bottle ready, but I settle on the couch to feed her and watch more.

After that, I sit with her on the floor, making faces at her and playing peekaboo with her.

And I watch the team lose when the other team scores into the empty net at the end of the game.

“Your daddy is not going to be happy about this,” I say to Tilly, making her do little bicycle legs.

She squawks.

“I know.” I make a face.

“He lost his temper. I guess I understand it. He’s probably as upset as I am.” I look down at Tilly’s face.

She smiles.

I smile back.

“I love you, niblet.” My heart squeezes up so tight I can’t breathe, and I blink back tears.

I search the TV screen for a glimpse of Ford, but the Storm disappear off the ice and the bench pretty damn quick.

Will they interview him?

I bet the media wants to ask him about that fight.

So I keep watching.

It takes a little while but sure enough Ford does come out of the dressing room to talk to the media.

“Is that the kind of game you want to play?” one reporter asks.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout at the TV.

“Dumbass.”

“Oh sure,” Ford drawls.

“I love getting penalties.”

Oh, he’s pissed.

The reporters don’t seem to get it, though.

“I also love getting slashed ten times in a game,” Ford adds.

Ohhhh.

“Is that one of your worst games this season?” another guy asks.

Ford pierces him with a glare.

“I let in two goals,” he snarls.

“So, no.”

Ouch.

“We’re told you have a pretty strict regimen before every game. Did you deviate from that tonight?”

“What is this? Ask Me Anything? Look, this is the last place I want to be right now, talking to you. Next question.”

I wince and watch the rest of the mercifully short interview with my bottom lip caught between my teeth.

“Don’t worry, baby, he’ll never talk to you that way.” I cuddle Tilly.

Or me, hopefully.

The next day I volunteer at Bright Side Animal Shelter.

That’s a good thing because the animals distract me from my morose mood.

There’s nothing better than puppy hugs and kisses to cheer you up.

On my way there, I stop at Bagelicious for caffeine and carbs.

It’s just around the corner from my place and I often pop down here to grab coffee.

The barista hands me my flat white and I step aside to wait for my bagel to be toasted.

“Andi.”

I turn at hearing my name.

I blink.

It’s Trevor.

“Uh… hi.”

He gives a tentative smile.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good…” I don’t smile back at him.

What’s he doing here?

“You look great. I didn’t get to tell you that night at the awards dinner, but I like the new hair.”

“Uh… thanks.” The cut and balayage highlights were done so long ago it doesn’t seem new to me anymore.

“And congratulations, by the way. I’m sorry about how things went down that night.”

“You’re sorry?” I shake my head, confused.

“Yeah. Haven was…” He stops and rubs a hand over his mouth.

“I guess I don’t need to apologize on her behalf.”

“I guess that’s true.”

My bagel’s up so I move to the counter and take it from the girl with a smile.

“Thanks.”

When I turn back around, Trevor’s still there, with a coffee in his hand.

“Could we talk?” He indicates one of the small tables that’s empty.

I’d rather scoop out my own eyeballs with a grapefruit spoon.

“Why?”

His lips twist wryly.

“I get it. You don’t want to talk to me. But I have some things I’d like to talk to you about. If you’ll listen.”

I purse my lips.

I should just walk out.

But I say grudgingly, “Okay.”

We sit and I unwrap my bagel.

I study him as I take a bite and chew.

He’s still good-looking—deep brown eyes, perfect beard stubble, boyish smile.

Once upon a time I was attracted to him.

Now I just feel like he’s…

dishonest.

Disloyal.

Two-faced.

“I guess you’re not playing now.”

“Nope. But only a few months until spring training.”

“Right.”

“I saw pictures of you at a hockey game with… is that Ford’s baby?”

My head jerks back.

Not what I expected.

“Yes,” I say slowly.

“It’s his baby.”

“What were you doing there? What’s going on?”

Answers flood my mind.

But I want to be careful what I say.

Then again, it’s Trevor.

I certainly don’t need to be concerned about his feelings.

I might as well be honest.

“You know Ford and I are friends.”

He makes a face, with a little head shake, like yeah, but that’s ridiculous.

I lower my chin and look up at him over my glasses.

“He has a daughter he never knew about and I’ve been helping him look after her.”

“Whoa. Weird.”

“And… we’ve…” We…

I’ve fallen in love.

Ford hasn’t.

And Willa is back.

So there’s no point in telling Trevor that we’ve become more than friends.

Because that’s ending now.

“Well, he needed some help, and I owed him.”

His forehead puckers.

“Wow.” He sits back in his chair, holding his coffee cup in both hands on the table.

His lip curls.

“That is wild. You don’t even like kids.”

I just smile at that.

“So wild,” I say lightly.

“Is that what you came here to talk to me about? Because?—”

“Haven and I broke up.”

Huh.

I gulp my coffee.

After I swallow, I say.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me? Why would you think I care?” My question is genuine—I don’t care.

He sits back in his chair.

“I… I don’t know. I thought you might.” He keeps his gaze focused on me.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

I exhale, take another sip of coffee, and say, “What happened with you and Haven?”

“She got pregnant.”

My eyes widen.

“Are you serious?”

“You must have noticed at the dinner that she was pregnant.”

“Of course I did. I mean, are you serious that you broke up with her because she’s pregnant?” Incredulity makes my voice rise.

“You know I never wanted kids.”

“I know, but… it happened. You’re going to be a father, whether you like it or not.” I gape at him.

Would he renege on his parental responsibilities?

Surely he’s not that despicable?

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll support her and the kid. I just don’t want to live that kind of life.”

“What kind of life?” I ask slowly.

“You know. We talked about it. We always wanted our freedom. We were both focused on our careers.”

I dip my chin in agreement.

“And babies cry a lot.”

Was that a joke?

“They do,” I agree, now with firsthand experience.

But now…

that doesn’t really seem like enough of a reason to turn your back on your own child.

I let out a breath and push the remainder of my bagel away.

“I’m… surprised by this.”

“I wanted you to know. In case… maybe…”

I stare at him.

Holy shit.

He wants to get back together.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I may have wanted this, after we broke up.

I may have fantasized about him coming to me and saying he made a terrible mistake and I’m the one he really wants.

I could have that life I lost, the life I mourned after the divorce.

The one I now realize was hollow.

But now…

I’ve lost again.

I imagined myself with Ford and Tilly, the three of us a team, and now that’s never going to happen.

The ache in my chest is so profound I have to press the heel of my hand there.

I could go back to Trevor and try again.

“Trevor.”

He nods.

“You are a jerkbag.”

His mouth opens.

“A douchewagon. A dickweasel.”

“Hey…”

I hold up a hand again.

I never had a chance to let loose on him.

“You used me. You betrayed me. You cheated on me with a friend. Who I worked with. That was a great job and I had to leave it. You’re a self-absorbed, self-centered, lying, cheating bastard, and now I see on top of all that you’re an irresponsible deadbeat. I would rather roll around naked in dog poop than get back together with you.”

He regards me with narrowed eyes.

“And you know that’s all true.” I move my head slowly from side to side.

“Now I know what it’s like to be with a good man.”

“You are fucking him, aren’t you?” He curls his lip.

I ignore that and lean forward.

“I don’t know what happened with you and Haven, how that started, how it ended, what happened in between, but you got her pregnant and you have to deal with that. Man up, for God’s sake. If you two can’t work things out, fine, it’s probably for the best, but you have responsibilities to her and to that child and you need to live up to them.”

Apparently, he’s speechless.

“It’s true, I never wanted kids.” My disgust with him ebbs.

“It’s true, I felt the same way—I wanted freedom. Freedom to have fun, to work hard, to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Babies cry a lot, and they poop and puke and make life hard. And I totally understand anyone who makes the decision to not have children. It’s personal and private and valid.” Then I think of Tilly and her sweet little face, her infectious baby laugh, her joy when she sees me, and my heart swells so big in my chest I almost can’t breathe.

“But please, please, please, I beg you, get to know your child. Take responsibility. Give yourself the chance to fall in love with her. Or him. Maybe you can’t. Maybe you really are too self-centered for that. But maybe you can. And maybe having that baby will teach you what love really is.”

He stares at me.

I stand and pick up my uneaten bagel in the wrapper, then my coffee.

“I don’t want to see you ever again. Good luck.”

I march out of the coffee shop.

On the street, I pause.

Holy shit.

That was good!

I’m proud of myself.

But I’m also alone.

Again.

At the shelter, I take Atticus and Diva for a walk, bundled up against the chilly wind that’s blowing today.

I help Joe give another dog a bath, and I spend some time brushing Diego.

Or attempting to.

He’s not thrilled about it, but the idea is to get him used to it, so I try.

And I think.

Thoughts keep cycling through my head and I’m not getting any clarity on how I should be handling this.

I need to talk to my best friend.

Elodie comes over since I’m looking after Tilly tonight, arriving with a bottle of wine and a large pizza.

“Amazing,” I say gratefully, taking the pizza box from her.

“Where’s Tilly?”

“She’s asleep right now.” I check the time.

“I’ll wake her up in about half an hour.”

“How’s the sleep, wake, food schedule going?”

I laugh.

“Eat, wake, sleep cycle.”

“Whatever.” She grins, following me to my kitchen.

She pulls two wine glasses out of the cupboard, familiar with where they are, while I grab plates for our pizza.

“It’s going really well, actually. She’s less fussy because she doesn’t sleep too long or stay awake too long and she’s sleeping better at night, which is fantastic.”

“I never thought I’d see you like this.” She pours the wine.

“Me either.” I make a face.

We take our pizza and wine into the living room to eat.

After a couple of bites, I say, “I have some… news.”

“What is it?”

I take a breath.

“Tilly’s mom is back.”

Elodie’s eyes widen and she lowers her pizza back to the plate.

“What? Holy mother of cake.”

“I know.” I close my eyes briefly.

“What happened? Did you see her? Did Ford?”

“No. She wants to meet, but he’s away until Sunday.” I swallow thickly.

“We don’t know what she’s going to say.”

Elodie gets the dilemma quickly.

“Oh, man. I’m sorry.”

I give a quick nod.

I relate Ford’s message, which basically said nothing, and all my spiraling thoughts and emotions since then.

“I don’t know if he’ll want a relationship with me now that Willa is back and he won’t likely have Tilly, at least full-time.”

She eyes me.

“You said you could do this.”

“I thought I could.” I scrunch up my face.

“But I want more.”

“Are you in love with him?”

I hesitate, then drop my head forward.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Andi.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand.

“I should have known better. My judgment about men is flawed. Professional athletes are only concerned with themselves—with their careers and getting ahead.”

“Like Trevor.”

“Oh! I almost forgot! I ran into him today.”

Her head jerks back.

“Shut the front door. Really? Where?”

“At Bagelicious. I… think he was looking for me. He wanted to talk.”

“He better not be fucking stalking you.” She scowls.

“Yikes. I don’t think so. I told him I never want to see him again.”

“Whoa.”

“Get this! He and Haven broke up!”

Her jaw drops.

I related the conversation I had with him.

“Wow,” she says slowly.

“That’s wild. Didn’t I say that, though? He’s such a shithead. It’s karma.”

“Right?”

She takes a gulp of her wine.

“You think Ford is like that, too.”

“He’s been very clear his priority is his career.”

“It sounds like that’s changed, though.”

Then I tell her about the game last night.

“If he was distracted about Tilly, that’s really bad. He can’t be happy about that.”

“Hmmm.”

“I have to admit, he’s really made Tilly the priority.”

Elodie shakes her head.

“You should see the look on your face.”

I blink.

“What?”

“Like you’re in love.”

I drop my head forward.

“Andi. Think about it. Is Ford really like Trevor?”

I know the answer immediately.

I don’t have to think about it.

Ford is nothing like Trevor.

They are both professional athletes and dedicated to their sport.

But that’s it.

Ford was there for me as a friend, even before we started sleeping together.

He went to the awards dinner with me.

He went for a beer with a friend so he could talk about his grief.

His teammates love him and respect him.

He changed his whole life for his daughter, rather than reneging on his responsibilities to her—unlike Trevor.

He’s a good man.

“No.” I screw up my face.

“No, he’s not like Trevor at all. But it’s probably best if things end between us once Tilly’s gone. He won’t need me anymore. I can get back to normal. It’s been tough running a business and looking after a baby.”

“Many people do it,” Elodie says dryly.

“I know, I know. We got through it.” I tell her about my misgivings about seeing Ford and being “just friends” and maybe seeing Tilly once in a while in passing.

As I talk, my voice catches and I try to breathe around the emotion swelling from my chest into my throat.

“I don’t think I can stand that.”

She looks at me with sympathy.

“I get that.”

“I think I’ll move.”

“Whaaat!”

I nod.

“Oh. I have to wake up Tilly.” I wipe my fingers on a paper napkin.

“I’ll be right back.”

I hurry into her room and gently rouse her.

When she beams a smile up at me, I almost burst into tears.

This is killing me.

I talk and sing to her as I change her diaper, and she watches my face intently in that wise way she has.

When she’s dressed again, I carry her out to the kitchen to get her a bottle and then rejoin Elodie.

“Here she is! The big girl’s awake.”

“Hi, Tilly.” Elodie leans over.

“Remember me? No? That’s okay.” She sighs as if deeply offended.

As I feed Tilly, we resume our conversation.

“So, yeah, I looked at condos for sale last night. I found a few things I like. And they’re pet friendly! I could adopt a dog from the shelter.”

“Are you sure Ford isn’t going to want to continue things with you?”

“No.” I drop my gaze to Tilly.

“But I’m afraid to hope for that.”

“That amazing date he took you on had to mean something.”

“I thought so, too. But he never said anything. I keep thinking maybe this will be a relief for him—to get more time back, to get his focus back. He’s worked so hard to improve his game. He hasn’t been playing his best and I know it bothers him.”

“Right.”

“But then I think about how much he loves Tilly now. He doesn’t want to lose her entirely. His dad told him to talk to a lawyer about it, and he has that positive DNA test, so it seems likely he’d be able to get at least partial custody.”

We hash things out until we’re going over the same stuff again.

And there’s no point in talking about it anymore.

I won’t know what’s going on until Ford comes home.

But I’m going to be prepared.

I’ll have a plan for moving on with my life.

I’m stronger than I was before.

I can handle this.

I can be sad and heartbroken and also proud of myself and confident that I can still live my best life, however it turns out.

I just might need a little time to get over the heartbroken part of that.

I pat Tilly’s back until she burps because I can’t break that practice and then we play with her on the floor.

“How’s your Christmas shopping coming along?” I ask Elodie.

“Are you going to your parents?”

“Yeah. On the 24th. What about you?”

“I hadn’t planned to go home for Christmas,” I say slowly.

“I don’t know why. But now, I kind of want to. I want to see Mom and Dad and Daisy. I can go for as long as I want, since I’ll be unencumbered. If I have to do some work while there, that’s fine.” I remember my own shopping the other day.

“I already bought Ford and Tilly Christmas presents,” I say sadly.

“I think they’ll like them.”