Emily had forgotten. Both about her in-laws coming and also about the fund-raiser. It was a yearly gala that benefitted the children’s hospital, and Ezra had been going for as long as he had worked there. His parents, looking for reasons to come visit their only child now that they were retired, had been coming for the past couple of years.

Emily wanted to say, I’m not going, but she could tell that Ezra wouldn’t take that well. Especially after he’d basically just told her to get over herself so things could get back to normal already. There was nothing that bothered him more than self-indulgence, and she could tell he was thinking her behavior was bordering on that and would give her a lecture if she told him she wanted to stay home. So she didn’t.

“Right,” she said. “Are they staying at the Gregory Hotel again?”

Ezra nodded. “So are we. Remember? They liked the convenience so much last year, heading right up to bed once the event was over, that they booked us a room, too. I’ll throw some stuff in a duffel later. Don’t forget to pack your bag. I think it’ll be good for you to get out of here tonight.”

Emily’s heart plummeted. When they’d talked about it months before, it seemed like it would be a fun night out at a fancy hotel complete with plush bathrobes and a gourmet breakfast with his parents. But now Emily didn’t even want to go to the event to begin with, much less sleep over in a hotel when her own bed was only a fifteen-minute cab ride away. There was no way she’d be able to muster up excitement for breakfast in the Garden Room. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to muster up an appetite.

The hotel really was beautiful, though. And Emily had met the hotel’s owner, Nina, a few times because Ari’s husband worked at the brokerage firm where she invested her money. She’d stopped by Jack’s fortieth birthday party last year and had been especially kind to Hunter and Tyler.

Ezra grabbed his phone and keys. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back later.”

Emily got out of bed to hug him good-bye, knowing it wasn’t worth telling him she’d rather sleep at home that night. “Love you,” she said.

“You too,” he answered.

But Emily could tell the response was automatic. His mind was already on his patients. Hers was still stuck on the child they’d lost. The maternity clothes she wouldn’t wear. The birth that wouldn’t happen next summer. The jogging stroller she wouldn’t be pushing through the park.

She wished she could take comfort in statistics. But even when you know you’re one of fifty-three million, it’s hard not to feel like the only one.

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