“Yeah. I’ve been scared I was growing the laziest baby in history.” I keep my hands on my stomach, hoping to feel it again. We sit quietly for a few more minutes, and I can’t help but wish my circumstances were different. Ryle should be here. He should be the one sitting beside me with his hand on my stomach. Not Allysa.

The thought almost takes away all the joy I’m feeling. Allysa must notice because she puts one of her hands on mine and squeezes. When I look at her, she isn’t smiling anymore.

“Lily,” she says. “I’ve been wanting to say something to you.”

Oh, God. I don’t like the sound of her voice.

“What is it?”

She sighs and then forces a gloomy smile. “I know you’re sad that you’re going through this without my brother. No matter how involved he is, I just want you to know that this is going to be the best thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re gonna be a great mom, Lily. This baby is really lucky.”

I’m glad Allysa is the only one in here right now, because her words make me laugh, cry, and snot like a hormonal teenager. I hug her and tell her thank you. It’s amazing how hearing those words gives me back the joy I was feeling.

She smiles and then says, “Now go get my baby and take her away from here so I can have some sex with my filthy rich husband.”

I roll off the bed and stand up. “You sure know how to bring levity into a situation. I’d say it’s your strong point.”

She smiles. “That’s what I’m here for. Now go away.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Of all the secrets I’ve held over the last few months, I’m the saddest about keeping everything from my mother. I don’t know how she’ll take it. I know she’ll be excited about the pregnancy, but I don’t know how she’ll feel about me and Ryle splitting up. She loves Ryle. And based on her history with these types of situations, she’ll probably find it very easy to excuse his behavior and try and convince me to take him back. And in all honesty, that’s part of the reason I’ve been stalling this, because I’m scared there’s a chance she might be successful.

Most days I’m strong. Most days I’m so mad at him that the thought of ever forgiving him is ludicrous. But some days I miss him so much I can’t breathe. I miss the fun I had with him. I miss making love to him. I miss missing him. He used to work so many hours that when he would walk in the front door at night I would rush across the room and jump in his arms because I missed him so much. I even miss how much he loved it when I would do that.

It’s the not-so-strong days when I wish my mother knew about everything that was going on. I sometimes just want to drive over to her house and curl up on the couch with her while she tucks my hair behind my ear and tells me it’ll all be okay. Sometimes even grown women need their mother’s comfort so we can just take a break from having to be strong all the time.