Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
“I don’t know, maybe this is over the top,” Caprice mutters.
We’re standing in an aisle at Great Buy, being surveyed by a wall of low-profile home security cameras. But my best friend is just sort of staring forward, not really looking at any of them. Her hair hangs loose and wavy, partially obscuring her light-brown face, and there are dark circles under her eyes. She keeps checking over her shoulder even though we’re the only people on the aisle.
“If it would help you feel safer, or even just help you sleep, I don’t see how it could hurt,” I say gently.
“But it doesn’t actually do anything to solve my problem.” She sighs. “Maybe I just need to move.”
I squeeze her arm. “You love your apartment. And your building. It’s a safe place. And you don’t know if this asshole even really knows where you live.”
She grits her teeth. Whoever sent the email she received last night wants her to think they do. After Caprice published her initial article about Unmatched, she was contracted to write a series of follow-ups and related articles. I’d thought she was done with them, but apparently a new one came out yesterday. Within hours, she had a brand-new email. Which, in a single sentence, managed to feel much scarier than all the others so far.
Single girl—fifth floor—careful when you open the door.
“Hi there.” A pasty white guy who looks about twenty years old approaches us. He’s wearing a bright blue Great Buy shirt and ill-fitting khakis. “Can I help you ladies with the security cameras?”
Caprice gives me a look like this is the last conversation she wants to have with anyone, let alone some bro who hasn’t even finished college, so I clear my throat and step forward. “Yes.” I glance at his name tag. “ Brad , can you tell us if any of these doorbell cameras can be installed in an apartment?”
“Hmm. Not many of them, depending on your building’s restrictions. Most require drilling into a wall.” He scratches his chin, then raises his eyebrows. “But actually, we have a new device that might be perfect. It replaces a peephole.”
Caprice perks up a little. “How does that work?”
“You just unscrew the existing peephole and remove it,” Brad says, picking up one of the boxes in front of us, indicating a diagram on the back. “Then this fits through the empty space and attaches on the back of the door. It’s a good solution if you can’t actually drill any holes.”
“So, does it like, record anyone outside even if they don’t necessarily knock?” she asks.
He nods. “Yep. You can adjust the settings to pick up as much or as little activity as you want, and control how long the videos are stored. You can even speak to visitors through your phone if you’re not home.”
I glance at Caprice. “Then you’d at least be able to screen everyone who comes by.”
“Yeah.” She exhales and takes the box. “Okay, that’s something. I’ll give it a try.”
Looking pleased, Brad directs us toward the registers and we wander back to the front of the store.
“I think this is a smart move,” I tell her. “Even if someone does find your apartment—which they won’t—you won’t have to interact. You’ll be safe inside. But you’ll have evidence if you need it. ”
“Yeah, I feel so much better,” Caprice says in a flat voice.
I stop her before we enter the check-out. “Offer still stands—we have an air mattress and an extra room. You can stay with us if you need to.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Thanks, but no thanks. Especially with you two doing the second honeymoon thing lately.” She greets the person at the desk and taps her card “People get so pissed at me for ‘ruining’ their relationships. Why can’t I get any credit for the one marriage I saved?”
And just like that, the pit in my stomach opens wide again. I swallow hard and glance away. Caprice grabs her receipt but takes a long look at my face as we head for the exit.
“Uh-oh . . . Did something happen?”
“I think the second honeymoon’s over.” I sigh. “Not sure there’s going to be a third.”
“He did not go back on that site,” she snarls.
I shake my head, focusing on the heat rising from the pavement as we cross the parking lot. At least the sun is starting to go down. “No. He didn’t.”
“What, then?” she asks, clearly bewildered. “Did he catch you alone with your rabbit?”
I glare, offended by her insinuation, but she stares at me unapologetically. I stab my key fob to unlock my Toyota. “He wants a baby.”
Caprice tilts her head like a clockwork doll as I duck into the car to start the AC, trying not to think about the cold look on Anton’s face when he suggested kids were non-negotiable.
“Okay, catch me up,” she says, sliding into the passenger seat, directing the air vents toward her face. “I’m clearly missing some details.”
So, I fill her in. On everything I can think of. How our relationship seemed to shift after my mother-in-law’s death. How absent Anton’s been, especially in bed. Until my sister came to visit with her baby—when boom, he suddenly couldn’t keep his hands off me. As long as I agreed to conceive immediately.
“But how can he—” Caprice starts, then seems to reconsider. “Actually, let’s back up. Weren’t you guys going to do some kind of therapy?”
“Yes,” I say, not meeting her eyes. Technically, we’ve been seeing a sex therapist. But I can’t bring myself to discuss those details out loud. Even to Caprice.
My phone starts ringing and I glance down to see Seth’s name lighting up the screen.
“Sorry. It’s my brother-in-law. I should take this.” I swipe to answer, putting him on speaker as I shift the car into gear to drive back to Caprice’s apartment. “Hey Seth, everything okay?”
I ask the question out of habit, even now that Sharon’s gone. But my stomach drops as it occurs to me—maybe he’s spoken to Anton. We’ve been avoiding each other for days. Would he make some kind of decision about our relationship and use his brother to deliver the news?
“Just calling to see if you admit defeat,” Seth says. “Since you never answered my last text.”
I let out a low, relieved breath. I should’ve known. “I have a rebuttal,” I say. “I happen to be driving or I’d one-up you right now.”
“Sure,” he answers breezily. “You take all the time you need. After all, there are no shortcuts to any place worth going .”
My eyes widen. “You did not just zing me live on the phone.”
He chuckles. “Sorry, that wasn’t fair. I had it memorized from my high school guidance counselor’s office.”
“I’m going to need to up my game before you get here.” I laugh. Caprice gives me a questioning look, but I’m not sure how to explain our competitive motivational quotes, so I just shrug. “How’s the house sale going?”
“Actually, just went under contract,” Seth says.
“Are you serious?” I shriek. “Didn’t you just list it? That’s fantastic! When will you move?”
“The first people who saw it loved it, and even better, could afford it. I might be in Denver by next month if all goes well.”
“Thank goodness,” I breathe, realizing a moment too late that I have said this out loud. “Um, I know Anton will be excited to help you find a place here.”
“Pretty sure he’d rather watch grass grow than go apartment hunting,” Seth says, but then his tone turns more serious. “I haven’t told him yet. I wanted to check in with you first to see how he’s doing. It ah... seems like he’s struggling with Mom’s death more than I expected. ”
“Yeah, I agree.” I glance at Caprice, who’s listening intently, and for a moment I consider taking the phone off speaker. But my best friend has seen me through some ugly times in my marriage, and it seems silly to hide this when I really need her.
Seth exhales. “I tried to talk with him about it the other day, but... I don’t know, it was like he couldn’t hear me.”
“He told me about that,” I say, softening as I reflect on the conversation we had just before we came to blows over family planning. Things got intense so quickly, I’d almost forgotten he actually pulled away from me initially.
“He just sounded so... down. So alone,” Seth says. “He was going on about all this stuff, talking about our dad dying and trying to hold the family together. ”
I furrow my brow. “He didn’t tell me any of that. He just said talking with you about moving made him feel better.”
“I’m glad something can.” Seth’s voice thickens. “I’m just worried about him.”
My brother-in-law is possibly the most laid-back person I’ve ever met. He dealt with every blow of his mom’s decline in stride. Never panicking or missing a beat, just getting her what she needed. I’m not sure how to handle this level of Seth concern.
“What do you think I should do?” I murmur, pulling into a parking space outside Caprice’s building. I don’t mention Anton’s urgency to start a family, but part of me wonders if he already knows.
“I was going to wait till the house closed, but I might come out to look at apartments early, if you don’t mind me crashing for a few days?”
I close my eyes, grateful for the umpteenth time Anton has the very best little brother. “I don’t mind at all, Seth. I... I’ve been having a hard time reaching him, too.”
“Maybe we just need to gang up on him,” he says, sounding a little more like himself.
“Yeah.” I manage a laugh. “Can’t let him forget we’re still his family.”
But as soon as the thought leaves my mouth, I think of Anton’s impassive face. Hear his words echoing back through my mind. I don’t know if I can not do kids, Lydia .
What if Seth and I aren’t enough? What if he needs more?
By the time we eat something and get the peephole camera installed, it’s almost seven o’clock, but it works beautifully. We take turns coming down the hall from different directions and adjusting the settings, but Caprice has got the hang of it, and I can’t help noticing the line that’s been sitting between her eyebrows all afternoon has finally disappeared.
“Finally. Maybe I can get my brother off my back.”
“You told Theo about the emails?” I ask, gathering up the remnants of sandwich wrappers from Snarf’s.
“I sort of had to,” she says. “I got a pretty bad one while he was here.”
“And he hasn’t descended on Denver with his SEAL team yet?”
She rolls her eyes. “He only knows about the one .”
I bite my lip, but don’t say anything. Caprice’s twin brother has always been super protective, but it got worse after everything that went down with her former fiancé.
“Have you been treadmill running again?” I ask when I see her hands have started shaking.
“Yes.” She exhales. “I still don’t feel super safe at the park by myself.”
I frown. Like my husband, Caprice uses exercise as an outlet for anxiety and frustration. But nobody moves to Colorado just to run indoors.
“How about we go together Sunday morning?” I ask. “Actually, let’s go every Sunday. It won’t be too hot if we go early enough.”
Caprice’s eyes light up immediately, but she bites her lip. “Lydia, you hate jogging.”
“I do.” I give her an indulgent smile. “But I love you, and I know how much you hate running on a machine.”
She straightens in her chair, clearly soothed by just the idea of channeling nervous energy outdoors. And now I wish I’d thought to suggest it earlier. “Well, maybe not every week,” she says. “But it might be nice once in a while...”
“I did it with you before and I didn’t die,” I say with confidence. “I’m sure Anton would be quick to detail all the health benefits.”
“Fine. Maybe a couple times,” she says, and I love hearing some optimism seep back into her tone. “But if I agree to that, you have to stop avoiding talking to me about this baby thing,” she says with a pointed look.
I toss our wrappers in the trash and sigh, moving across her little studio to curl on the corner of her couch. I’ve spent the last hour or so mulling over everything Seth said, but she’s right, I have been avoiding talking about it.
“I don’t know,” I say dropping my face into my hands. “Half of it was the way he sprang it on me...” My cheeks warm as I recall the urgent way he pawed my body the other night. The way, I’ve had to admit to myself ever since, I’ve been hoping he would touch me again. “But Seth is right, Anton’s hurting. He’s lost nearly everyone he loves. So I just... I’m trying to give it some thought.”
“Hold up.” Caprice raises a hand. “I was there for that whole conversation. I did not hear Anton’s brother tell you to heal him with a magic baby.”
I twist my fingers in front of me. “You’re right, he didn’t.”
He suggested we could be enough to fill the empty space. But Seth didn’t see the way Anton looked with Celia’s baby. What if starting a family is truly something Anton needs?
Caprice studies me with a frown. “Lydia, do you want a baby?”
“Ah, we’ve always talked about having kids someday...” I say, looking anywhere but at her.
“Talking about kids and wanting them are two very different things,” she says with a sharp look. Caprice and her brother were the product of their mother’s failed attempt to save her marriage. One of the reasons we became friends in college is because neither of us grew up with a dad.
“I do worry a little about balancing everything,” I say, thinking of my sister trying to manage around her son. “I’m not sure Henry could handle things on his own if I had to step back. I don’t want to do anything to disrupt the Pooches’ growth.”
“I wasn’t really asking if you thought you could fit one in around your business,” she says more gently. “I was asking if you want to become a mother. ”
I bite my lip and look away. Caprice knows me well. She’s met my mom and has a decent grasp on some of my most complicated feelings. But even I’m not sure how to describe the dread this particular question inspires.
“I wish I was one of those people who has always known they did or didn’t want kids,” I say in a weak voice. “I’ve never had a strong drive to start a family... But I worry I might regret not having one. I’m just scared. How do I know which is the right decision?”
“I can’t tell you what to choose.” She squeezes my arm. “But take your time and think about it. And for God’s sake, don’t have a baby if that isn’t what you want.”
I nod, because I understand what she’s saying. Except Anton made it pretty clear the topic isn’t up for discussion. We’ve fought so hard to be together. Could he really just walk away? Could I let him?
Aside from a brief, ragey time when I thought he was cheating on me, I’ve never imagined us apart. The future has always been Anton and me. But I take a moment, trying to picture us with separate lives. I come up with a vague, cloudy vision of him with some faceless wife and kids. It’s hard to visualize, this nonexistent family of his.
What isn’t hard to imagine? Anton happy as a dad.
But when I try to come up with a different, future version of me? I draw a blank. At best, I can see myself at work. But every time I try to conjure up some cloudy figure waiting for me at home, I only see Anton. Does that mean I’ll be alone? Eating meals solo, walking the dog by myself. No one texting me to check in during the day or filling the house with the scents of baking lasagna?
I swallow. Close my eyes. I can still see the look he gave me the other night—the one where it was clear I was shutting us down. I was pushing him past some limit we might not come back from.
Again.
My chest aches.
We’ve been inseparable for ten years. Seeing each other through college, building our careers, supporting one another through family and personal struggles. Through good times and bad, as we said in our vows. So much between us just works , which is probably why we were able to weather Unmatched at all .
And here I am, thinking about bringing it to an end, when all he really wants—is a future together?
In the next heartbeat, I insert myself into that image with him. So it’s a cloudy version of us with the faceless kids. It still seems murky, still somewhat terrifying if I’m honest, but somehow familiar enough because we’re together. Maybe even... doable.
“Lydia? You’re awfully quiet over there.”
I take out my phone, only to have somewhere to look besides my best friend’s penetrating eyes, which I’m not ready for just now. But when I do, I suck in a breath. There’s a new text waiting from my husband.
Anton
Will you go out with me tomorrow night?
I look at Caprice and bite my lip. Guess it’s time to finish this conversation.