“To what end?” Unity asked. “I love Stuart. I don’t want to love anyone else.”

“You love me.”

“That’s different. I don’t want to love another man.”

“That makes me sad. You’re giving up so much of your life. You could still have kids, Unity. Don’t you want that?”

“That’s what Thaddeus said. Not those exact words, but he talked about me having children without Stuart.”

“What did you say?”

“That I’d never considered the possibility.”

“Not even once?”

“How could I? Ellen, he was my everything.”

“So without him you’re nothing?”

“Sometimes.”

“Don’t you want more?”

The softly asked question should have elicited an automatic “No, of course not.” But for once Unity wasn’t sure what to say. Was she really going to live the rest of her life in mourning? Was she really going to give up every dream she’d ever had? And what about a family? She’d always wanted babies to hold and love and nurture.

“Maybe I could get artificial insemination,” she offered.

“You’re just so romantic, I don’t know how I stand you. Yes, you could do that. You’ll be a great mom, with or without a partner. But speaking from experience, being a single parent isn’t easy. And you know what? Not a decision you have to make today. I’m just saying maybe you can think about letting a guy in for a little while. If you don’t like it, you can stop seeing him, but right now you’re making decisions without a lot of information.”

Unity knew Ellen was right. “You’re right. That’s good advice.”

“Thank you. I gotta run, but know that I’m going to revel in my ass kicking on the challenge. Winning!”

Unity laughed. “Yes, you are, but I’m going to catch up. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

They hung up. Unity looked back at the tattoo picture. Getting one was on her list, too.

She’d just done an internet search of local places when her phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“It’s Thaddeus.”

“Oh, hi.”

She turned away from the computer, aware of a slight sense of anticipation. He’d called. It had been a couple of days, so she’d started to wonder if he would. Not that she wanted him to. Not exactly. Of course she hadn’t wanted him not to call, so there was that. Sometimes it was hard to be her.

“I know it’s last-minute, but I’ve been visiting Dagmar and wondered if you wanted to grab dinner or something.”

He was here? In Willowbrook?

She looked back at the screen. “I’d like that, but could we make a stop first?”

“Sure. Where do you want to go?”

“I’d like to get a tattoo.”

Thaddeus pulled up in front of her house ten minutes later. She met him at the front door, wondering why he seemed taller than she remembered. And possibly better-looking.

His eyes were dark, his hair layered. He had a three-day beard. The slightly scruffy look suited him, as did the polo shirt and jeans. The man had a body, she thought, wondering what he did to stay in shape.