Meredith sinks onto the couch beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. “You mean by doing things like buying her a bakery you really couldn’t afford?”

“Yeah. Like that.” My stomach aches to admit this. “I think I knew I was losing her even before you shared those texts with her. She always held back part of herself, and she was so good and sweet I was greedy for her to let me in, even in those moments when things were good. Then you sent her those texts, and it’s been wildly teetering ever since.”

She stiffens beside me. “Will you ever be able to forgive me for that?”

“It was a really bitchy thing to do. It hurt Hanna and it hurt me.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “And I think it hurt you too.”

“I know my depression isn’t an excuse, but I really wasn’t seeing clearly. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have done anything that terrible if I’d been in my right mind.”

“You’re going to spend the rest of your life alone if you keep acting like that,” I say softly. Not to be an ass, but she needs to know. “Every bitter, angry thing you do and say alienates you a little more.”

“And makes me a little more like my father.” The words are so quiet I probably wouldn’t have made them out if I weren’t thinking the same thing.

“Go to Paris. Start fresh. Be the Meredith I knew. The one who’d sneak into bed with me and whisper about her dreams for the future.”

“I don’t know what happened to her.”

“So find her. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life in the process.”

She sits up, tilts her head, and studies me. “And what about you?”

I shrug. “I’ve got Claire. Right now, she’s the love of my life.”

She throws her hand over her mouth and her eyes fill with tears. “I’m so glad she has you,” she manages, tears rolling onto her cheeks, “since her mom is so screwed up.”

She pushes off the couch and grabs her purse off the kitchen table. I follow her to the door, but when I open it, she faces me again. “I am so sorry for being the reason things didn’t work out with Hanna. So sorry. If I could go back…”

I take her hand and squeeze her fingers. “If we hadn’t already been off-balance, anything you did or said wouldn’t have mattered. It took seeing her with Nate to understand that. They’re steady. Despite…everything. When the world throws them for a loop, they’re fine as soon as they get their feet on the ground.”

She nods and looks to the door of Claire’s bedroom. “Tell her every day how much I love her. Tell her I’m coming back for her. I don’t want her to feel…” She presses her fingers to her lips. “Stupid antidepressant clearly isn’t working,” she says, half smiling as more tears roll down her cheeks.

“I think they’re working just fine. And you don’t need to worry. I’ll tell her. Every day.”

“THIS IS the cutest nursery ever,” Liz says. She’s adorable with her blond curls pulled into a high ponytail, smudges of red paint on her cheek.

I can’t disagree. I love everything about the nursery. The walls are a pale yellow with a bold, red accent wall. We used primary colors and found gender-neutral bed sets with colorful zoo animals.

“You think it’ll be two girls or two boys or a boy and a girl?”

I shrug.

“I know, I know! We just want them to be healthy, but part of me is hoping it’ll be two little girls.” She slings her arm over my shoulder and eyes my belly. “Or not so little,” she teases. “I’m surprised I got to come over tonight, honestly. Nate hasn’t taken his hands off you since the doctor told him it was safe to have sex.”

I bite back a grin then sigh. Having Nate in my house the last four months has been amazing. Vivian and Drake bought a house in a ritzy little area outside of Indianapolis, not a bad drive from New Hope, and Collin stays with us during the week and stays with them on the weekends.

Everything was going so well that they took me off complete bed rest by thirty weeks, but only last week, when I hit the thirty-seven-week mark, were we released to have sex again. If I was worried about my enormous belly standing between me and Nate being intimate, I needn’t have. He’s plenty creative when it counts.

The thought sends a buzz of anticipation through me. I shift uncomfortably and move away from Liz to sit in the glider rocker Nate bought for the nursery. So many thoughtful touches for a man who never wanted more children. Or who told himself that he didn’t want any more children. My heart pinches a bit at the thought. Nate’s an amazing father, and I’ve never seen a man so excited about his unborn children.

“I need to—” I stop, eyes wide as I try to figure out what’s happening. “Liz?”

“What, sweetie?”

“Either I’m peeing myself and I can’t stop or my water just broke.” A steady trickle of warmth runs down my leg.

She squeals and then claps. “Hospital. Come on. Let’s go.”

“We have plenty of time,” I assure her. “Let’s go across the street and get Nate.”

“Are you sure? Should you be walking? Shouldn’t I call your doctor?” She grabs her phone from her pocket. “I’ll call Nate and then the doctor and then—”

“Liz.” I put my hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay.”