“Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m a friend who wants to see everyone get what they deserve. Nothing less. Nothing more.”

HANNA’S MOTHER beams as she opens the door for me. “So glad you could make it for brunch.”

“Thanks for inviting me, Gretchen.”

“We missed you at church.” She turns to the living room. “Hanna, Max is here.”

Hanna pushes off the couch to greet me with a kiss on my cheek.

“Hi,” she says. “How was your morning? Post-crazy-baby-mama drama?”

“Good.” I spent it in my office at the club, trying to work magic with numbers and not succeeding. “How was church?”

She shrugs. “Mom is worried for the souls of her sinner daughters. We like to throw her a bone once in a while.”

“Food is ready!” her mom calls. “Everyone in the dining room, please!”

We file into the dining room behind Gretchen—Granny, Liz, Abby, Hanna, Maggie, Asher, me, and a couple of Gretchen’s friends—and line up at the buffet to fill our plates.

Gretchen takes Hanna’s plate from her before she can fill it. “I want you to try this new recipe.”

Liz and Hanna gape as their mother heaps hash brown casserole onto Hanna’s plate. The potatoes are bubbling with cheese and butter.

“The baby needs the calcium,” Gretchen says.

“I think hell just froze over,” Liz mumbles, and her mom shoots her a stern glare.

When our plates are full, we find our seats around the table.

“Liz,” Gretchen says, “I thought you might bring that nice gentleman you danced with at Will and Cally’s wedding. That friend of yours… Max, what’s his name? Sam something or other.”

“You don’t want me bringing Sam Bradshaw to a family brunch,” Liz says next to me, scowling at her food.

“Why not?” her mother objects.

Hanna bites back a smile.

“He really likes you, Liz,” I tell her, not for the first time.

“You’re blushing!” their little sister Abby says. “You never blush!”

“It’s hot in here,” Liz grumbles.

Across from me, Maggie moans softly. “These potatoes. Oh my God! Mom, I had no idea you had it in you.”

“She let me cook today,” Granny says. “That’s how food is supposed to taste.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to see a message from Meredith. Can you come get Claire? A client has an emergency.

“A haircut emergency?” Liz says, shamelessly reading from my phone. “Whatever.”

Who knows if it’s true or if Meredith just knows that this is my time with Hanna’s family.

“My apologies, Gretchen.” I stand and slide my phone back into my pocket. “I need to get my daughter. Her mother has to work.”

Hanna stands. “I’ll give you a call later.”

I’ll give you a call. Not, I’ll see you.

She kisses me on the cheek, and I stop her before she can pull away. I press my mouth to hers. It’s not a long kiss or a passionate one—her family is right here—but it’s firm and sure and right. It’s everything my love for her is.

6

I SCRATCH out the last four lines on the page, pushing the pen so deep it cuts through the paper. I’m working on this collaboration with Asher and I’m stuck on the ballad.

All week, all I’ve been able to think about is Hanna moving in with Max, Hanna waking up next to Max, Hanna raising my babies with Max.

It’s a good thing Collin is here. Otherwise, I probably would have already left Asher’s in favor of getting trashed in a hotel room somewhere.

I stare at the marked-out lyrics and then throw the notebook across the room.

“What did that notebook ever do to you?”

I’m probably scowling when I look up at Maggie, but scowling is pretty tame considering how I’m feeling right now. How I’ve felt all week.

“She’s having my babies and she’s marrying him.” I can tell by her face that this isn’t news to her. Fuck. Of course not. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

She plops into a chair across from me and folds her legs under herself. “Asher told me that he warned you to stay away from her.”

“I don’t need a lecture tonight, Maggie.”

“Asher also told me that ignoring a friend’s wishes for a girl wasn’t like you. But something about Hanna made you do it anyway.”

I lean my head back and look at the ceiling, remembering that night, remembering her body moving against mine as we danced, the pitch in her voice when she asked me to kiss her. “She’s my kryptonite.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“Are they really moving in together?”

Maggie frowns. “Isn’t that what people do when they get married?”

But Hanna said she wasn’t moving forward until after the babies were born, and I hoped that meant… “Does she really love him?”

She picks at the seam of her jeans, and just when I think she’s going to avoid answering the question altogether, she says, “I don’t know Hanna as well as Liz does, so maybe I’m not the one to ask, but she’s going through a really hard time right now. She spent her whole life believing she was undesirable because no one noticed her, and no one noticed her because she hid in the shadows, and she hid in the shadows because she didn’t think anyone would want her.” She lifts her eyes to mine. She’s trying to read me. To decide if I’m worth her interpretation of the truth. To decide if I’m worthy of Hanna.