I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy…

But while white lies were easy to tell, you couldn’t hide from yourself.

She might be fortunate, but she wasn’t fulfilled.

And she didn’t have the first clue what to do about it.

Chapter Five

Sadie handed the last of Lincoln’s party guests a favor—a mini woven picnic basket, which included a bottle of bubbles, sidewalk chalk, and organic gummies—gently nudging her son forward.

“What do you say to Clementine?”

What a great name. Maybe if the baby is a girl, we can do something sweet and old-fashioned like that. Charlotte? Camilla?

“Tank you,” Lincoln mumbled down at his tiny loafers.

“Aw, lovely manners.” Daphne Stewart, Clementine’s mother, smiled. “I don’t know how you do it! This party was something pulled straight from Pinterest.”

“It was nothing.” Sadie waved her off airily even though she was ready to fall asleep in her Adidas. It had been great catching up with her high school friends who had stuck around the Cove and grown up to have children of their own. Daphne had once been the senior class wild child, notorious for streaking during football games. These days she owned Stripe—a boutique dress shop on Main Street that sold locally made frocks and delicate, handmade jewelry.

“Well I know it can take a ton of work for something to appear effortless.”

“Don’t make me blush. Anyway, you and Jacob have to come over soon. Maybe for a barbecue on the deck when the weather is a little more predictable.”

“Predictable?” Daphne laughed. “This is still Maine we are talking about, right?”

“Hey now, the most predictable thing about this place is our unpredictable weather.”

After giving Daphne a quick squeeze goodbye, she shut the front door. “We survived.”

Ethan’s arms slipped around her middle, his hands resting right where the baby hid. Was this the moment to break the news? She’d tried telling him last night, after he’d arrived home with the beautiful apology bouquet, after they’d shared a slice of Renee’s pie and laughed over how ridiculous they must have sounded shouting in the front yard, but then? Annette had called in a tizzy. She couldn’t find her birthday gift for Lincoln anywhere, and had she sent it to their house by mistake?

Naturally, Annette had found the gift fifteen frazzled minutes later (because apparently having Ethan “help” over one thousand miles away proved useful), and Sadie had taken deep, deep breaths and reminded herself to remain calm.

She means well. She means well. She means well.

“Mmmmm. Somebody smells berry-licious.” Ethan nestled his bristly face in the crook between her cheek and shoulder and gave her a soft kiss in her favorite spot. She closed her eyes, enjoying his woodsy scent—the Ralph Lauren Polo cologne she’d gotten him for Christmas. “Nice job. Reminds me of the over-the-top themed parties you used to throw down in Boston.”

“Really? A two-year-old birthday bash reminds you of those parties?” Green Jell-O shots came to mind from Sadie’s very glittery and very green St. Patrick’s Day get-together as well as the witches’ brew she’d concocted for one Halloween, complete with a fog machine for an extra effect.