Chapter 16 #3
At the Greene Gardens house, we told the movers to pile everything in the walk-in closet except for the boxes marked “baby,” which were supposed to go straight into the nursery. But somehow, this one hadn’t made it.
“I guess I’m starting with you,” I said softly, my eyes fixed on the label.
It felt like the logical place to begin. Anything for the baby could be useful now or in the near future.
I sank onto the closet floor, the plush carpet cushioning my knees as I began pulling at the box’s taped tabs. It was tightly sealed, but I managed to pry it open after a little struggle.
Inside, I found packaged onesies, a blank photo album, baby books, and a long strip of ultrasound photos.
The sight of the ultrasound photos stopped me cold.
I remembered them vividly—Kendra’s way of announcing her pregnancy to Leo and me. My eyes had bugged out when she presented the pictures, her joy infectious. I’d been excited for her, but I’d also felt a pang of fear.
I worried the baby would change things between us, pulling her away from our friendship. So many women I knew had drifted away after becoming mothers, consumed by the demands of their new lives. I feared I’d lose her to late-night feedings and playdates.
I exhaled, shaking off the memory, and continued unpacking.
As I worked through the items in the box, my hand landed on a Moleskine notebook. I grabbed it by the cover, intending to set it aside, but something stopped me.
Words.
Written in Kendra’s handwriting were paragraphs of sentences that spilled out when the book fell open on the carpeted floor.
Curiosity drew my eyes to the page.
I can’t believe in just a few months we’ll meet our little miracle. This journey has been nothing short of magic, filled with dreams of little footsteps that will soon echo through our home.
The sentence hit me like a wave, halting my movements.
She kept a journal?
I didn’t even know she liked journaling.
I lifted the notebook, holding it in my lap. As I flipped through the pages, I realized this wasn’t just a random journal. It was intentional. A diary documenting her pregnancy. These pages held Kendra’s deepest thoughts—things she’d never shared with me.
Her fears about labor. The quiet anxiety every time she went to the bathroom, praying she wouldn’t see blood. Her excitement and joy about becoming a mother.
I skimmed over her entries, smiling at her words, stopping to read sections that tugged at me more.
Then I turned to a page near the end of the journal.
If we have a girl, Tyrell and I decided we’d name her Violet. It’s pretty and classy like Ivy, and contains four important letters. Vi and Le. Letters in Ivy and Leo. It’s a little piece of our friends’ names, whose support has meant the world to me.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, my jaw dropping.
My eyes moved down the page to the next section.
If it’s a boy, Levi it is. It’s strong but soft, just like Leo. It also has both the first letters of their godparents’ names. I hope he grows up with Leo’s strength and Ivy’s grace.
I pressed the journal against my chest, shutting my eyes tightly as tears escaped, sliding down my cheeks.
“Levi,” I whispered, tasting the name. “I love it.”
I had thought I’d never know what Kendra and Tyrell wanted to name their baby. They’d kept it a secret, wanting it to be a surprise. Finding the journal—and their chosen names—felt like a gift I hadn’t expected.
A wave of gratitude swept over me. Leo and I had held off on naming Baby Love, and now I was so thankful we had.
I pulled the journal away from my chest, my tear-filled eyes returning to the page. I read further, soaking in her words.
I still believe Ivy and Leo are meant to be, more than they know. Being godparents and sometimes needing to work together when Tyrell and I ask them to might just show them the beautiful bond they share but that they’ve yet to uncover.
I crumpled into a mess of sobs.
For months, I’d wished I could pick up the phone and call her, desperate to hear her voice again. She wasn’t just my best friend—she was my sister. My only true confidant.
If she were here, she would’ve been the first person I called after both hookups with Leo.
And I just knew if she were still here, she would holler with laughter and pepper me with “I told you so.”
Reading her journal reminded me of how deeply my friend understood things—often beyond what I could comprehend. Her insistence that Leo and I were perfect for each other had always seemed ridiculous to me. We were polar opposites in so many ways. But now… I wasn’t so sure.
Because the truth was, I did have feelings for him. Feelings that had only grown stronger since we’d been intimate.
As much as I wanted to pretend that him moving out made it easier to maintain a clean, quiet, organized environment… the reality was, I missed him.
A lot.
It wasn’t just his presence I missed. I missed his touch.
We’d only done it twice, but already I could feel the ache of withdrawal.
We’d kept things cordial enough when I’d dropped the baby off at his loft so I could hang out with my mom and attend the grief support meeting. But even in those brief interactions, it was hard to ignore the truth I couldn’t avoid admitting now: I missed him.
Sniffling, I wiped my tears, preparing to keep reading the last few journal entries from Kendra when I heard the baby wake from his nap.
The sound of his little voice, babbling and cooing, pulled my attention instantly.
A smile spread across my lips as I pushed myself up from the carpet, making my way to his nursery.
“Hey… Levi,” I said the moment I stepped into the room, his little eyes found mine, and his face lit up with a big, gummy smile.
“Oh, you like that, huh?” I whispered softly, my chest tightening with the kind of love I never thought I’d feel for anyone, let alone a baby.
I leaned over the crib railing, placing my hand gently on his soft, round belly. “Levi.”
His smile widened at the sound of the name, and my heart swelled.
“You like that, don’t you?” I asked, my voice catching with emotion. “Good. Because you look like a Levi.”
I scooped him up, planting a kiss on his chubby little cheek. He responded by brushing his hand against my face, his tiny fingers grazing my skin.
My heart melted.
If someone had told me a year ago that I would fall head over heels in love with a baby, I would have laughed in their face. I thought I didn’t like kids. I’d never been around them before Levi.
But Levi had changed everything.
“Let’s get you your bottle,” I said softly, cradling him as I headed to the bottle warmer.
Once it was ready, I sat down with him in the rocking chair, settling him in a comfortable position as I offered him his milk.
The room was quiet except for the soft sounds of Levi drinking, the rhythmic creak of the rocking chair, and the warmth of his tiny body resting against mine.
As I held him, my thoughts drifted back to the final words, Kendra’s last journal entry, that I’d read in Kendra’s journal before I had to leave it behind to tend to Levi.
I’ve always believed names carry power and influence.
Tyrell and I decided to choose names that had the same letters as our friends’ names to prove how good they look together.
Giving you this name serves two purposes, little one.
It’s to show you that you are loved beyond your mom and dad, and it’s to serve as a hope that one day, Ivy and Leo will see the love between them that Daddy and Mommy saw in them—that we still believe to this day was meant to be.
Tears stung my eyes again, but this time, they were accompanied by a small, hopeful smile.
Kendra had made a promise to be that person for Levi, to ensure he always knew he was loved. And now, I was determined to keep that promise for her.
Which meant I needed to mend things with Leo, too.
Because maybe—just maybe—we could be the family Kendra envisioned she and Tyrell being to Levi.
Maybe.