Page 64 of What He Doesn't Know

“Probably won’t be until the holidays. That’s the only time we ever count on seeing him.”

“Do you talk to him much?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Every other week or so, but sometimes we go longer. I did talk to him recently though…” My eyes found Jane, and I watched her sitting almost completely still in her cage, no song to sing that night. “Christina is pregnant.”

I couldn’t look at Reese then, but I knew his eyes were wide, his mind racing for what to say.

“How do you feel about that?”

My heart squeezed, and I lifted my glass to my lips, taking a small sip of wine as I thought on it.

It was the first time anyone had asked me.

Cameron had suggested we buy them a gift, and that’s just what he’d done. He even got the card. All I had to do was sign my name on it before he mailed it out. And Mom and Dad, they were too excited to ask how I felt — as they should be. They were finally going to be grandparents.

They should have already been.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I mean, obviously, I’m ecstatic. I’m so happy for Graham, and Christina, too. They’ll be amazing parents. And of course, I know Mom and Dad are thrilled. I can’t wait to be an aunt.” I paused. “And Cameron, he’ll be the best uncle.”

He would have been the best dad.

Reese eyed me for a moment, propping one arm over the back of the couch. “Okay. But how doyoufeel.”

“I told you, happy,” I said again, but when my eyes met his, I knew it wasn’t the truth.

He knew it, too.

I sighed. “And… heartbroken. It was supposed to be me, you know? I had been pregnant first. I should have five-year-old twin boys right now. Graham’s child should have older cousins.” I skated the rim of my wine glass with my index finger. “I should be a mom first, and an aunt second. But I’ll just be an aunt. Period.”

“You’re still a mom,” Reese said tenderly. “You always will be. And it’s okay to not only feel happy. It’s okay that you have real, tangible, painful feelings toward this. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I feel like it does.”

“It doesn’t,” he said quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

I just looked at him in answer, waiting.

“Did you and Cameron ever… are you guys trying again?”

My throat tightened at the mention of him, and I shook my head, taking another, larger drink of wine. “New topic.”

He nodded, taking a sip of wine as I watched Jane swing sadly inside her cage. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t want to talk about that.”

The truth was that we hadn’t tried again, Cameron and I. We hadn’t even talked about the possibility. It wasn’t that weweren’ttrying, either, but it had never been a conversation between us — not even when we’d become pregnant with the twins. It just happened.

Cameron didn’t like to talk about anything. He never did. Why would losing our sons change that?

Reese must have sensed my heartache, the cloud hanging over me, because he immediately launched into some stupid drama Sheldon and Sierra had gotten themselves into earlier that day.

I never kept up with any of the school gossip, but it was a distraction, and Reese kept the conversation moving easily from topic to topic as we refilled our glasses throughout the evening. We reminisced on old times, caught up on stories from college and the years since, made plans for the spring concert — we talked about any and everything other than what, or ratherwho, had made me cry all day.

I was thankful to Reese for that.

Somewhere around ten, we ended up at his piano.

He played the piece he’d been working on, a slow and heartbreaking melody in honor of his family. Watching as he settled in behind the piano brought back a flood of memories.