The keys were in my truck, so there was no need to go back into the house. My tripod was inside, but I could do a handheld video. I drove directly to Freya’s. Parking in the driveway, I considered heading straight to the pottery studio but decided to go to the main house first. I rang the bell. After a few moments, Max answered the door. He wore faded jeans and a T-shirt, had a mug of coffee in his hand. He looked sleepy and rumpled and gorgeous.

“Hey,” I said, noticing that his right eye was bruised. I tapped my own eye. “What happened?”

“Tree branch in the face.”

Right. “Is Freya here?”

“She’s in the studio.”

The smell of his coffee was tantalizing. My family had blocked the coffee maker with their judgment and concern, leaving me woefully uncaffeinated. “Could I get a coffee?” I asked. Max had always made me nervous, even girlish, but now that I knew his secret, I felt more confident.

“Sure.”

I followed him inside.

As the former athlete made me a latte from their high-end machine, I watched him. He knew that Freya’s baby wasn’t his, couldn’t be his, but he was keeping her secret. Could he love another man’s child like it was his own? Was he that desperate to become a father? He’d always seemed indifferent to the baby’s pending arrival, but maybe I had misread him. Maybe Freya had convinced him that their baby was a miracle. Or maybe, Max just went along with whatever Freya wanted.

He handed me the steaming mug of coffee and watched me take my first sip. And then he said, “Do you think Freya’s ready?”

“For what?”

“The birth. The baby. All of it.”

“She doesn’t have much choice,” I said with a chuckle.

But Max didn’t smile.

“She never talks about it. It’s like she’s in denial about what’s going to happen. Childbirth can be traumatic. And a baby needs constant care and attention.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?” I offered, my chest warmed by my own altruism.

“Could you? I want to make sure she’s mentally and physically prepared. Freya isn’t . . . naturally maternal.”

“Once the baby comes, the hormones will kick in and she’ll be a great mom.” I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I was enjoying my role as sage.

“I hope so.”

“And the baby will have its daddy,” I said, watching his reaction. “You’ll be there for both of them.”

He breathed out through his nostrils. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, either.”

“Why not?”