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When we pulled up to the house, he raced out of the car. Ana came out onto the porch and scooped him up, twirling him around in her arms. I slipped my hands into my pockets and watched the two of them interact with the new knowledge I had of her.

She had been crying for me all these years?

“Thanks for letting me take him to lunch,” I said once she set Brody down.

“Brody, go on inside so I can talk to your dad,” she said.

“Don’t forget to tell Mom about the game!” he exclaimed. Then he went scurrying off as a chuckle fell from my lips.

“The game?” Ana asked.

“I told him I’d take him to a Dodgers game if it was okay with you,” I said.

“You can see him whenever, Tyler. He’s your son.”

My eyes met hers before they fell down her body. I wanted to mend things with her, to make things right between us. But I still hurt. All of it still hurt. I looked into her eyes and flashed back to that day when she sat on my couch and stayed silent when I asked her what she was going to do after high school.

So many opportunities to tell me about her pregnancy. It was all so confusing, and I didn’t know where to begin.

“Well, I’ll research tickets and give you a call then,” I said.

“Sounds nice. I’ll be on the lookout for it.”

“He had, um, spaghetti and chocolate milk, and ice cream.”

“Sounds about right,” she said, giggling.

“Anyway, I’ll, um—I’ll call you.”

“And I’ll be here waiting,” she said.

It was the sound of her voice that led me to something else, something deeper than idea of her waiting to hear about a ball game. Something more vulnerable.

I needed to get into my car and drive away. I needed to get back to my office. I needed time to think.

Ana

It hurt that Tyler suddenly didn’t want anything to do with me, but I had brought it on myself. I hadn’t had to hide Brody from him, and yet I had. I had thought it was for the right reasons. I had thought I was doing the best for everyone in the situation we had found ourselves in. But that didn’t excuse the hurt I had caused, the confusion I had brought down on my son and Tyler.

And myself.

“Things were really looking up, Kristi.”

“I know they were,” she said.

“And I ruined it with my selfishness.”

“Ana, you were caught up in a whirlwind no one could have prepared for. Stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I hid Brody from his father.”

“You did what you thought was best for Tyler at the time. And you were right. He probably would have resented you in the long run for keeping him behind and from going to Harvard—though it wouldn’t have been your fault in the first place.”

“I hurt him, Kristi.”

“Well, yes, you did.”

I sipped on my wine as that reality dawned on me. I had hurt him the way he had hurt me all those years ago. And yet revenge wasn’t sweet. Not that I had sought revenge. Quite the opposite. There was a time I had wanted Tyler to feel the hurt I had, but I’d been pregnant and hormonal and generally angry with the entire situation.

I hadn’t actually wanted it to happen.

“Do you think he’ll give me a second chance?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Ana. Do you want one?” Kristi asked.

“Of course I do. I love him. I want to be a family with him, if we can.”

“Then it’s up to him how he wants to process this. It’s out of your hands.”

“He told me he loved me. I believed him. I still do. So why is he doing this? Why can’t we sit down and talk?”

“Because he’s hurt and confused.”

“So was I! I still am! You don’t see me trying to dodge his phone calls every time he wants to call and ask about Brody.”

“True, but it’s your responsibility as the one who created this situation to give him access to his son,” she said.

“We both created this situation.”

“You both created Brody. It was your decision to hide him.”

“Thanks,” I said flatly.

“Ana, I’m your friend. I’m not here to make you feel better. I’m a sounding board and a giver of truth. If you can’t accept your part in this, it’s just going to keep hurting.”

“I have accepted it. I told Brody who Tyler was without Tyler there because he was being an asshole!”

“And that was his choice. But you made a choice as well. Had you waited a little while longer, you might not have had to tell him alone.”

“You can really be a bitch sometimes.”

“Ana, don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Throw your guard up. This is a serious situation and there is no right answer. There is no ‘least messy’ way to get out of this. It’s as complicated as it gets. You can rant about it, you can talk to me about it, you can tell me how you’re feeling, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. Someone has to start coping with the reality of this situation.”