Cover

ALSO BY JILL SANTOPOLO

More Than Words

The Light We Lost

Dedication

For Andrew.

For always.

i

Maybe this will help.

Maybe I won’t think about you anymore.

Dream about you.

Maybe I won’t have to keep wondering.

Always wondering:

Were you even real?

1

As she walked down Astor Place toward her office, Emily Gold rested her hand on her abdomen, trying to figure out if it felt different. If there was something new in there, a constellation of cells that would grow as she did, would end up as a tiny person with deep brown eyes like Ezra or wavy auburn hair like her.

Emily hadn’t known she wanted a baby until she met Ezra. Then the idea of creating a child with him, of having another person living in this world who had his intelligence, his compassion running through their veins—it seemed like something she would have to do, the way she had to breathe, to blink, to swallow. And once she wanted it, once she knew it had to happen, she became immediately afraid that it wouldn’t. That she couldn’t. The fact that they’d put it off for a couple of years didn’t help—Ezra had wanted to get a promotion first, a raise, an apartment, to make sure they’d be able to give this child everything they possibly could. Now the time was right. They’d been trying for seven months—months of hope and anticipation and disappointment. And now she was late. Only by a day, but still.

Every hour made it feel more real, more possible.

“Dr. Gold.”

Emily had been walking up the steps to NYU’s School of Global Public Health, and turned her head as she swiped her card key through the lock on the front of the building.

“Tessa,” she said to the student looking up at her. “It’s good to see you. I hadn’t realized you were back.”

Tessa smiled. Her eyes looked tired, but the grin was genuine. “I’ve been meaning to come by, but there was a lot to get settled.”

“How’s the baby?” Emily asked her.

“Zoe,” Tessa said. “She’s good. Mostly sleeps through the night now, which is awesome. My mom helped out a lot over the summer—Zoe and I went to Ohio while Chris was starting his new job here. But now we’re back and it’s just me and him and Zo. We’ve made it through our first week. I found a couple of freshmen who are up for babysitting while I’m at class. So far, so good.”

Emily stepped aside so her friend Priya, another psychologist at the mental health center, could walk through the door. “I’m so glad, Tessa,” she said. “If you need to talk, you know I’m here. I’m glad things are going well with you and Chris.”