And maybe that was right. Or rather, maybe that was almost right. I knew what we were trying to do, but everything I’d gotten in my life, everything I’d loved had come with a price. A trade-off. There was always something bad to offset the good. And I was getting better at it—focusing on the positive—but I’d been conditioned all my life to expect the worst. Mom leaving. Otter leaving. Mrs. Paquinn dying. Otter’s accident. Ty’s mental state. His addiction.

And what’s the one constant here? it whispered. Who is the common denominator in all of this? Oh, that’s right. It’s you, Bear. You’re the one connected to all of this. Makes you think, doesn’t it? Makes you really think.

“It’s not—”

“Cut the shit, Papa Bear,” Creed said, a scowl on his face. “I’ve known you for far too long to let you try and talk in circles around me. What the hell?”

I glanced toward the living room to make sure we weren’t being overheard. Anna and Otter were seated close to each other on the couch, speaking quietly. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but neither of them was looking at us.

To be safe, though, I lowered my voice. “It’s not that I don’t think that, it’s just… it’s, okay. It’s expensive, right? And there are no guarantees. If we don’t get this, if it doesn’t work, we’re out that money. Most of which, by the way, is coming from Otter.”

Creed snorted. “Yeah, because what’s his isn’t yours at all. Dude, you’re married. Knock it off.”

I glared at him. “I know that, but I’m a teacher. You can’t ignore the fact that my salary doesn’t exactly cover the seventy fucking thousand dollars this is going to cost us. And if it doesn’t work, that’s just… gone.”

“Okay,” Creed said. “Fair. But what if it does work?”

I could find nothing to say to that.

Creed sighed. “Look, Papa Bear. I know you’ve been dealt a crappy hand, okay? Life sucks and then you die. But Jesus, you are allowed to have hope for something. Dude, enough with this sad-sack martyr routine. The chances are greater of this working than not. You guys are going the IVF route, right? Gestational surrogacy?”

I shook my head. “We were looking at that, but then we met her. She just… fits. You know? Think we’re going to go the traditional surrogacy route instead if we choose her.”

He stared at me. “She fits? With us? Oh my god. I don’t know if that’s amazing or terrifying.”

“Right? Jury’s still out.”