“I still wanted to see you. Besides, you haven’t told me how your antenatal class went.”

I wrinkle my nose.

“That bad, eh?”

“I wonder if I’m better off not knowing all that stuff.”

“Did you at least meet some nice people?”

I shrug. “Pete thought so.”

“Pete!” Emma shouts. “What was he doing there?”

“He turned up at my place just after I spoke to you and somehow ended up coming with me.”

“He voluntarily went with you to an antenatal class? Pete?”

Emma looks incredulous and I don’t blame her. This is the same guy who balked whenever two-year-old Freddie went anywhere near him.

I nod. “He says he’s ready to be a dad and a part of my life.”

Emma leans back in her chair, crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “He wants to get back together with you,” she states. “What a nerve.”

“I shouldn’t have brought up his name.”

I look at my hands resting on the table so Emma can’t see my eyes filling with tears. My friends think the worst of Pete and yet all week, he’s been coming over after work with a healthy meal for two selected carefully from a deli he tracked down as he looked for places that provided tasty meals to go. We’ve sat on the back porch eating and chatting about all sorts of things, and he’s hardly ever brought up work – his or mine. Every time he puts a hand on my stomach to feel the baby kick, his eyes light up and he tells me I’m amazing, and he’s never once pressed me by asking if he can stay the night.

“Trish, I’m sorry.” Emma reaches across the table and puts her hand on mine. “He just hurt you so much and I find it hard to forgive him. Or trust him.”

Mia appears at my side and places a steaming coffee next to my half-eaten cake.

“Enjoy, Trish,” she says in her Italian accent. She glances at Emma, who’s rubbing her eyes. “You OK?”

My friend smiles weakly. “I’m fine, Mia. As soon as that last group leave, you can close the doors.”

“Sure thing.”

I take a slow sip of my coffee and watch Emma. She’s wrestling with whether or not to speak. When you’ve been close friends for as long as we have, it’s easy to read one another.

“Trish,” she starts. “People can change for the better and it’s not like Pete is a demon. When you were together, you were both happy – at least most of the time. I could see you were crazy about each other.”

“But…” I prompt, knowing there’s going to be more.