Chapter 25
Quinn’s been in the bathroom forever, and I know she’s even not halfway done. She puts on about four different face masks before going to bed. She’s not vain, just a creature of meticulous, ritualistic habit.
I’m already tucked under the covers, flipping through Netflix shows. There’s an empty bottle of water on the nightstand next to me. I told Quinn I was already getting a hangover, so she brought me water and two small liquid gels. I drank the water, but I haven’t touched the pain relievers.
I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink. My embryo transfer is next week. My very last chance at pregnancy. I’m not risking anything. I’m even doubling up on my prenatals. Anything to force my body to work.
When nothing on Netflix grabs my attention, I reach for my phone. Promising myself to be present, I haven’t touched it much today.
I hardly remember our girls’ trip last year. My iPhone was glued to my hand, unwilling to miss out on hours’ worth of b-roll content amidst the pretty mountain views in Estes Park. I’m sure a lot of followers envied me and my luxurious mountain vacation.
Little do they know, Quinn’s family owns this massive log mansion, so our trip is free, and the fancy-looking cocktails we usually drink are grapefruit juice, cranberry juice, and Burnett’s vodka. Our cheapness is mostly nostalgia. There was a point in our lives where we were happy, broke college kids. All we could afford were ramen noodles and hand-me-down furniture, but it was more than enough. We were rich because we had each other.
Checking my notifications, Adam texted me about an hour ago.
Adam
How’d it go?
Me
Chase actually pulled it off. He showed up while we were in the hot tub and whisked Noa away. I got booted from the room I share with Noa.
Adam
Boomerang. Told you. What are you up to?
Funny enough, I was dreading coming to our annual girls’ trip this year. But it is a non-negotiable tradition and Quinn would’ve skinned me alive if I tried to sit it out.
It’s not that I didn’t want to see my friends. But all of us being together reminds me how much I miss them. It was an easier choice at the beginning of summer when my life was falling apart. I should’ve moved home months ago, but enter Adam—the giant life detour I didn’t see happening.
Me
Waiting on Quinn, who is doing her five-hour bedtime routine.
Adam
Shouldn’t you guys be shitfaced and having fun? I thought your girls’ trip was a giant college reunion party every year.
Me
I took one fake swig of tequila.
Adam
What’s a fake swig?
Me
I spit it out over my shoulder when no one was looking.
Adam
You’re a class act, baby.
Just tell your friends what you’re doing. And tell them about me.
Me
You and your huge *rooster emoji*?
Adam
Knew it. So wait, does that mean I’m not funny, or I have bad taste in restaurants?
Me
Anyway, what’re you doing?
Adam
Can you sneak away and call me? I need to tell you something that can’t wait.
His text gives me nervous butterflies. He’s been my boyfriend for a while now, but I’m still going through all the flirty nerves as I continue to get to know him. How can we be so new, but so committed at the same time? Never in my life did I expect a man to help me have a baby that isn’t his.
Maybe that’s why I don’t want to tell my friends. It makes no sense, dangerous even. One of us is bound to get hurt. But when it’s just Adam and me, it makes perfect sense. There’s healing, laughter, pleasure, and so much hope. That’s the whole dilemma, the reason I’m putting off the inevitable in L.A.
Adam is my hope.
Me
One second.
“Quinn,” I call through the bathroom door. “I’m going to grab a snack. Want anything?”
“No, thanks,” she calls back. I’m almost at the front door when she shouts, “Oh wait!”
“Yes?”
“I think Addie and Reese have Twizzlers in their room.”
I smirk. “Want me to steal a few, or the entire bag?”
She’s laughing. “Entire bag.”
After shutting the door behind me, I bank right. There’s a large bay window up the hallway with a cushioned bench. It’s the perfect spot for a private conversation.
“Hey you,” Adam answers on the first ring. It’s apparent he’s driving, the low rumble of his sports car in the background.
“Hey you back,” I reply with a smile. “Is something wrong or are you just missing me?”
“I’m always missing you.”
Pulling my knees to my chest, I curl into a ball, feeling the frigid December air seeping through the window. It’s not snowing tonight, but everything is iced over, the pine trees decorated with pretty white and silver crystals. Yeah, it’s settled. Snow-capped mountains over sandy beaches any day.
“It’s midnight your time. Are you headed somewhere?” I ask.
“Ooh,” he singsongs. “Is that a little jealousy I detect?”
“Perhaps.”
“I was with Kayla all night.”
My jaw tenses and I try to breathe through the pounding in my chest. “Adam, I trust you. But elaborate. Quickly.”
He roars in laughter. “I tried to call you earlier to explain, but you didn’t answer. Chase asked us to help while he was away. It was my turn to stop by. I brought dinner and held the baby while Kayla showered, ate, and then took a nap.”
“You babysat all night?” My unnecessary jealousy quickly dissipates, replaced by adoration.
“I did. I held Presley for like four hours, I shit you not. Burped her, changed her diaper, and Kayla even showed me how to swaddle. I’m a quick study. I think I’m ready for all this.”
“Oh boy,” I murmur into the phone. “You sniffed her, didn’t you?”
“Huh?” he asks as he flicks on his turn signal.
“I swear that’s what got me. I didn’t want kids. Then, Noa had Jonah, and I sniffed him too many times. Babies give off these sneaky pheromones. You think they just smell so good because of the lavender baby products, but no, it’s their magic juju. They’re planting the seed so their kind can multiply.”
He chuckles. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is. How else do you explain me going from being anti-baby to spending a literal fortune in a fertility clinic?” I clear my throat. “Or, sorry, I guess I mean you spending a literal fortune.”
“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t be weird about the money.”
“I’m not being—”
“Amani, I can afford to have the fertility clinic put the entire Brady Bunch in your womb. Wouldn’t even notice the dip in my bank account. I own over fifty investment properties, all of them grossly lucrative. I buy cars the way most people buy shoes, and guess what? None of it means a goddamn thing. It’s all empty stuff and extra money for no reason. I had nothing to look forward to each day until you… I really love you.”
Holding my cheek, I can feel the warmth. Apparently, big declarations of affection make me blush the same way as when Adam calls me pretty.
“You still there?” he asks.
“Why do you always say this stuff over the phone? I can’t kiss you over the phone.”
He laughs. “I think all my best words come out when I’m worried about you or missing you.”
“Well, maybe I should keep you worried and missing me, then.” I press my fingers against the glass window, my fingerprint visible against the frosted window.
“No,” he finally says. “Missing you is why I wanted to talk. I fucked up.”
“What?”
“Our contract? It’s not good enough. I don’t want to wait to meet the baby until you let me. I want to hold her as soon as she’s born. One holiday a year isn’t enough. Not even close. I want to do this with you, every step of the way. Maybe it’s too late for you to have my baby, but it’s not too late for us to be a family.”
Scrunching my bare toes against the bench, I absorb his words. We’ve been dating behind everyone’s back for what…six months? Is this a change of heart or Adam panicking? How long is long enough before I know if we’re ready to be a family?
“What’re you saying specifically, Adam?”
“Stay in California. Move in with me, and let’s raise this baby together. If you don’t like my place, I’ll buy us whatever house you want. On the beach, in the city. As long as it’s within driving distance of my dad, the rest I don’t care about. If you’re happy, I’m happy. And when we’re ready to take that step, I promise I’ll buy you whatever ring you want. Amani, I’m all in if you are.”
Why is he asking me this now? When my choice seems more impossible than ever. Being here with my friends feels like breathing again. It’s a reminder of the old parts of me I actually want to keep. There was a happy Amani before social media became too much and before all I knew was the ache of disappointment from negative pregnancy tests. The past couple of years have been hard, but my friends have known me for far longer than that.
I miss my mom. Unlike Adam’s dad, I know she has her memories, but she’s in pain, too. I’m still needed here. It was stupid to run off to L.A. to reinvent myself. I could’ve done that at home, supported by the people who have loved every version of me. And now I have to choose…
One type of love or a different type of love. Which is superior?
I let out a long sigh before I finally answer. “There’s no baby yet.”
“I have a gut feeling. You’re going to be a mom, I know it.”
“And you want to be a dad to my baby?” I ask.
“Something like that.”
The background noise of the highway and his engine have gone. I realize he’s parked now. Likely sitting in his driveway, waiting for my answer.
And I don’t know how to answer.
It sounds an awful lot like Adam wants me to have a baby on his terms. He wants to give me everything so I don’t need anyone but him. I know it’s not from a selfish or controlling place. I think it’s fear. It’s okay for me to rely on him, but if Adam were to move to Denver and leave his family and friends behind to raise my baby, his heart would be completely reliant on me. I get the impression that’s not a risk he wants to take.
“Adam, I love you. I mean that. But let’s talk about the rest if and when there’s a baby to plan for. Okay? But if you need some reassurance, I want to be all in, too.”
“Fair enough. Thank you.”
“All right,” I say, kicking my legs out and swinging them around. “I’m off to complete a Twizzler heist, but I’ll sneak away and call you tomorrow.”
“Twizzler heist?” He laughs. “Okay, summer girl, good night. Sweet dreams.”
“Good night, summer guy.”