“Well, that’s obvious,” I said more snarkily than I had meant to, but damn. I signaled to the bartender that I needed another. “And Chase? Really? I thought Chase didn’t know we were married. I thought Chase was mad.”

Thad scrunched his nose. “Well, I think Chase was a little bit worried about losing all his clients who were team Amelia.”

“Traitor,” I whispered as the bartender inserted another glass into my hand. We were speaking the same language here. “Unbelievable.”

I felt like I was in the ocean, trying to get out past the breakers, but the waves kept hitting me in the face, knocking me to the sandy ocean floor. Every time I got my bearings and tried to swim again, another one just toppled me.

“Amelia, I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

I realized I was a teeny-tiny bit drunk. And I suddenly felt incredibly tired. I knew tonight was going to end in a giant emotional scene, and Martin seemed like a better person to fall apart with than Harris, so I texted Harris. I’m not really feeling up to a party tonight. Rain check?

He texted back immediately. I’ll send the car to get you, and we can order in.

That didn’t solve the problem, but I really wanted to see him. Surely I could do that without making any stupid remarks or decisions. Plus, my little double bed in our lipsticked apartment was cute, but Harris’s giant, plush, king-sized mattress with its ten million thread count sheets and remote-control blackout shades and meditative surround sleep sounds were impossible to resist. I put my glass down, looked at the bartender, and said, “Don’t give me any more alcohol, no matter how hard I beg.” He laughed, and a water appeared seconds later.

I looked at Thad. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to you right now.”

“Well,” he said, looking down at his lap, “I guess I was hoping you’d be happy for me?”

I could feel the amazement written all over my face. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. I’m happy for you.” I paused. “No. I tell you what: I am happy for the kid, because every child deserves a great home, and you will be a fantastic father. But I am not quite happy for you. Not yet.”

I got up and walked out, feeling only a tiny bit hazy, with Thad calling behind me. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do, but Harris’s car was already waiting for me on the curb. As I slid into the back seat and said, “Hi, Tom. Thanks for getting me,” I could feel tears sliding down my cheeks. I wasn’t so much sad as I was furious. I felt betrayed, like he’d known I had this one huge insecurity—that I couldn’t have children, which I had proven quite handily this year. And now he was rubbing it in my face. I tried to make small talk with Tom and seem normal, but it was pretty impossible to seem normal in front of Harris when I arrived with my tearstained face and shaking voice.