“I don’t know,” she says cautiously. “I just hate seeing you like this. You both look so… miserable.”

At this, my spine straightens, and I shake my head in denial. “Well, I’m not. It’s just frustrating. I didn’t negotiate my freedom to spend my days playing a mental tennis match about what Judge is going to do next. I’m trying to establish a life here, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Solana wisely chooses not to comment further and instead takes over dish duty while I go get ready. Step one in forgetting about my broken heart is staying busy, and we’ve got a full schedule ahead of us today.

After I tear through half my closet, only to settle on a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt, we head to the birthing class. Georgie joins us for the occasion, then promptly becomes traumatized ten minutes into it, and opts to wait outside instead. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the IVI guard he’s had his eye on is there to keep him company.

Once we’re finished with class, we hit the mall and several children’s stores to grab some baby furniture, which Georgie has promised to help me assemble. I purchase a new phone while we’re out too, transferring my old number to it, and effectively cutting Judge off from that line of communication he controlled.

When that’s finished, we meet Ivy for lunch and finalize our plans for the baby shower, which will be next month. She’s thrown herself into the project, and I’m grateful for it, but I can’t help feeling it’s really not necessary for her to go to so much trouble. The only people who’ll be showing up for it are my small group of friends and possibly Santiago if he cares to join. Regardless, it’s something positive to focus on, and I’m happy to see that Ivy gets along well with Solana and Georgie too.

By the time we get back to the condo, I’m too tired to cook anything, so I order us pizza while Georgie somehow commandeers his crush, aka Drew the IVI guard, to help him assemble the cribs.

“He’s got a talent for that.” Solana watches in amusement from the kitchen as they sort through the pieces on the floor, Georgie pretending he has a clue what he’s doing.

“He can smooth talk his way into anything.” I roll my eyes.

Solana brings a piece of red licorice to her lips, chomps on it, and nods. “So what do you think the chances are Georgie will have that guard out of his black cargo pants by the end of the night?”