“Okay.” She was such an agreeable baby.

He lay on the bed and tucked her against him. She put her thumb in her mouth and stared up at him, brown eyes solemn, lashes so long and silky.

“Your aunt loved you,” he said, tapping her nose with his forefinger.

“Hi,” Octavia answered around her thumb. She snuggled against him, and he put his arm around her. She was the first person to be this close to him since the day Lauren died, and she smelled so good—peanut butter and baby shampoo and sweet breath.

“Nigh-night,” she said.

“Night-night,” he answered.

“Yuvoo.”

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Yuvoo.”

“Oh.” He swallowed. “I love you, too, Octavia.”

Then she closed her eyes, and sucked harder at her thumb, and within seconds, she was asleep. Josh could hear the women in his bedroom, sorting through his wife’s things, and he was so relieved not to have done this horrible task alone, so angry that they were laughing, so lonely after that short note from Lauren, so fed up with himself for being a goddamn moody bastard.

But mostly so glad for the warmth of the baby next to him. A little genetic piece of Lauren lived inside her.

Maybe Jen would give him Octavia. It seemed only fair.

TWO HOURS LATER, Donna and Jen had left, taking the baby, alas. They’d also taken the majority of Lauren’s clothes, scarves, shoes, purses. Some would be donated, some they were keeping.

Sarah was still here. She, too, had a bag and was scrolling through her phone, at home on the couch with Pebbles at her side.

Would she wear those things? Would he have to see her one day in Lauren’s sweater, or wearing Lauren’s earrings? The very idea made him feel both gutted and a little vicious. She wouldn’t look nearly as good. She’d look like the runner-up she was.

Jesus, he was turning mean. Lauren would hate him these days. Good. He hated her for dying.

“How you doing, Josh?” Sarah asked, pushing a strand of long blond hair behind her ear.

“Fine.”

“This can’t have been easy.”

No shit, Sherlock. “It’s fine. It’s what Lauren wanted.”

She kept toying with her hair. “Is that what’s in the letter? A list of . . . tasks?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Sorry. Not my business.” She forced a smile. “So. You mentioned you’re going furniture shopping?”

“Yeah. Radley should be here in a few minutes. He lives near Jen, and he’s picking up their truck.”

“Great.” She did her signature move of scooping her long hair to one side of her neck.

“Sarah, we get it. You have long blond hair.”

“What?”

“You. You’re always drawing attention to your hair in case someone missed that it’s long and blond. It’s annoying.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Wow. So sorry to offend you.”