“That word again.” My voice is harsh, but I hate this. “Talk to me, sweetheart.” I calm myself because she doesn’t need to deal with my shit.

She lets out a deep breath. “I’m just missing you. Aaron moved out this week, and there’s some stuff going on at the office.”

Just the news of Aaron moving out of the house is enough to make me feel better. I would’ve never been the one to push it, but knowing he’s gone will help me relax a little. The idea of him being there when I couldn’t was killing me.

“How’s he doing?” I wonder. No matter what, our friendship will never be the same. I could never look at him knowing he got the girl and I can’t imagine he’ll be calling me for a beer anytime soon. There is no way this can end well enough for either of us to the point where we can go back to what we were. If she picked him, I could never go around there. Looking at her with him would destroy me. Aaron will always be tied to Natalie through Aarabelle, and I respect that. She’s his daughter, and though I may love her like she’s my own, she’s not. The loss of his friendship weighs heavily on me.

“He’s good. I hope he is at least. He’s in counseling and Mark is helping a lot. Is this weird?” she asks.

“It’s not pleasant, but he’s a part of our lives.”

“Yeah,” she sighs.

“I was thinking of Krissy today.” I mention my sister for the first time in a long time.

“Oh? You never mention her anymore,” Natalie notes with her voice sounding more alert.

I feel like a dirtbag for not talking about her. Krissy was my younger sister, and I doted on her. When we were kids, we were best friends and later I protected her from asshole guys who wanted to fuck her. Which, considering we were Irish twins and only ten months apart, meant I broke a lot of my friends’ jaws.

“Just wishing she could see me now . . . changing diapers and shit.”

Natalie laughs and I smile. I love the sound she makes and how her eyes brighten. I can see it in my head. “You don’t change diapers. You massacre them. But you’ll have a lot of time to learn.”

“Fuck that. I’ll let you handle all of it.” My eyes close, and I could pass out.

“I don’t know . . .” she trails off.

“I hate to cut you off, but we just got back and I’m exhausted. Can we talk later? I’m beat and I have another shit day tomorrow. Let’s hope everyone steers clear because I’m liable to snap.”

“Of course. Get some sleep. I love you.” Her voice is low and my eyes keep closing.

“Yeah, I need a nap. Love you. I’ll call soon.” We say our goodbyes and I swear I’m asleep before we disconnect.

“You still haven’t told him?” Reanell asks as we sit at the Plaza Azteca. She grabs another nacho and pops it in her mouth, waiting for my answer.

“No, I don’t want to stress him out, and when I miscarry, I don’t want to have to tell him. It’s easier this way.”

It’s been a month since I found out I’m pregnant, and whenever I talk to Liam, he seems stressed beyond his max. Each time I go to the bathroom, I’m terrified. It’s like I know it’s coming and I just wish it would happen.

“I think he deserves to know,” she says, grabbing her giant fishbowl-sized margarita.

“I fully plan to tell him. But if I tell him now and then lose the baby, he’ll be devastated and still be deployed. If I tell him and his mind goes elsewhere and he gets hurt—then what?” I ask her and stare. She knows I’m right. He’s been stressed, crabby, and he leaves again for another time down-range, as he calls it. So, for now it’s better for me to keep this quiet and keep him focused on the task at hand.

She nods and sits back. “I get it. You have a good point. There are so many things I don’t tell Mason when he’s gone.”

“Like?”

“Well, he doesn’t know about how the stupid, piece of shit hot water heater went again. He’ll get upset that he didn’t fix it, and then I’ll have to stroke his ego about how he’s so amazing. And really, I’d rather buy myself some Jimmy Choos and say it was my reward.”

I laugh and snort, “I don’t know how that man deals with you.”

Rea smiles and throws back her drink. “I promise that Mason has more cracks than the San Andreas Fault. He spends more money on his stupid sports memorabilia than I do in shoes and purses. We even out and we don’t have kids.”

Reanell’s eyes fall and I know what she’s feeling. She and Mason tried for years, and instead of killing themselves over it, they just resolved that if it happened, it happened. I admire that they put their marriage first, but I couldn’t possibly imagine a life where Aarabelle didn’t exist. My hand drifts to my stomach and I think about the baby inside. If I lose him or her, it will wreck me. I know the pain both emotionally and physically. The agony of not being woman enough gnaws its way up my throat.

“Lee?” Rea’s hand touches my arm.

“I can’t lose this baby,” I admit with tears forming.

“No matter what happens . . . I’m here. I’ll hold your hand, rub your back, and then we’ll get drunk, but I think this baby is a miracle.” She raises her glass, and I raise mine. “To Dreambaby.”

“Dreambaby?”

“Well, he’s Dreamboat, so he has Dreambabies.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

We both laugh and talk about my doctor’s appointment. According to them, everything is on track and I conceived while we were in South Carolina. I’m only six weeks pregnant and my plan is to let Liam know once I make it through the twelve week period. I’ve lost two babies during the first trimester and the other was at fourteen weeks. I can’t worry him, and I don’t want to have him distracted.

Reanell sits back in the booth with a look that I know too well.

“What?” I ask.

“How are you handling Aarabelle and Aaron?”

I sigh and look away. “It’s hard sharing her like this, but it’s the way it is. Aaron is trying really hard and we’re getting along surprisingly well. He’s going to therapy and he loves her.”

Right now he’s taking her for short periods of time and nothing overnight. He said he’s not ready with his sleep schedule and the nightmares being as bad as they are. I’m proud that he’s aware of his PTSD and how it’s affecting him. The decision not to keep Aarbelle overnight is his decision instead of something I have to fight him on. Our lives have drifted through rougher seas, but he’s trying to calm them.

“How do you think he’s going to handle . . . ?”

“Not well. But he knows I’m moving on. I filed for divorce and he signed it.”

“Wow, that’s surprising.”

It was a shock, but I was glad it wasn’t drawn out. Aaron and I had tears in our eyes when I gave him the papers, but nonetheless he didn’t fight me. It was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It was truly admitting that the marriage was dissolved on our own choice.

“He said he loves me and he wants us both to be happy.” She nods and looks around. “You don’t think so?”