“Well, come in.” As much as you want to interact with the baby, you resist. “Listen,” you say, once he wheels the stroller through the door and awkwardly sits in a chair. “I believe we need to clear some things up.” You have a script. You aren’t going to let the baby derail you. You are going to plow forward.

“Oh yeah?” Graham asks. “What’s that?”

The baby makes a little coo, and Graham turns to him and grins. That gesture is what does it. Why did Graham get a second chance? Why did things work out for him? You know about his fancy credit on that television show.

“I need you to stop,” you say, losing your tempered tone. It’s not just that he’s smiled at the baby. It’s that he isn’t taking this meeting seriously. He’s distracted, relaxed. “I know you talked to Hulu. You told them. About . . .” You can’t say the words. “You know.”

Graham’s eyes are full of concern. “You can’t keep lying, Piper.”

“What do you care?” You dig your nails into your palm. “It’s my life. So stop, okay? Otherwise, I’ll tell your wife about us. About you.”

A muscle in his jaw tightens. So he never told her. You were right. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes, I would.”

“My life means a lot to me. I have . . .” He trails off and looks at his kid, who now has his whole fist in his mouth. North used to do that, too. “Look, things have changed. I’m different now. And my wife . . . she’s going through something hard.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“She is.” Now his eyes are pleading. “You and me—it was a long time ago. Can’t we just leave the past in the past?”

You cross your arms. “I would have. But you already made the first move.”

“I thought they should know.”

“Well, maybe I think your wife should know.”

Suddenly, he rises over you. You slide backward in your chair and feel your body curl into itself. You hate that this is your response, but it’s an old reaction, etched in your wiring. He seems to understand this, and it fuels his fire. One corner of his mouth curls into a satisfied smile. He rubs his hands together. The sound is like sandpaper on wood.

“Let’s make a deal,” he says. “I’ll stop talking about you, and you won’t talk about me.”

And then he’s out of the room without another word, taking his beautiful baby with him.