Page 104 of Keeping the Score

“What kind of life?” I ask slowly.

“You know. We talked about it. We always wanted our freedom. We were both focused on our careers.”

I dip my chin in agreement.

“And babies cry a lot.”

Was that a joke?

“They do,” I agree, now with firsthand experience. But now… that doesn’t really seem like enough of a reason to turn your back on your own child. I let out a breath and push the remainder of my bagel away. “I’m… surprised by this.”

“I wanted you to know. In case… maybe…”

I stare at him. Holy shit. He wants to get back together. Are you fucking kidding me?

I may have wanted this, after we broke up. I may have fantasized about him coming to me and saying he made a terrible mistake and I’m the one he really wants. I could have that life I lost, the life I mourned after the divorce.

The one I now realize was hollow.

But now… I’ve lost again. I imagined myself with Ford and Tilly, the three of us a team, and now that’s never going to happen. The ache in my chest is so profound I have to press the heel of my hand there.

I could go back to Trevor and try again.

“Trevor.”

He nods.

“You are a jerkbag.”

His mouth opens.

“A douchewagon. A dickweasel.”

“Hey…”

I hold up a hand again. I never had a chance to let loose on him. “You used me. You betrayed me. You cheated on me with a friend. Who I worked with. That was a great job and I had to leave it. You’re a self-absorbed, self-centered, lying, cheating bastard, and now I see on top of all that you’re an irresponsible deadbeat. I would rather roll around naked in dog poop than get back together with you.”

He regards me with narrowed eyes.

“And you know that’s all true.” I move my head slowly from side to side. “Now I know what it’s like to be with a good man.”

“Youarefucking him, aren’t you?” He curls his lip.

I ignore that and lean forward. “I don’t know what happened with you and Haven, how that started, how it ended, what happened in between, butyougot her pregnant andyouhave to deal with that. Man up, for God’s sake. If you two can’t work things out, fine, it’s probably for the best, but you have responsibilities to her and to that child and you need to live up to them.”

Apparently, he’s speechless.

“It’s true, I never wanted kids.” My disgust with him ebbs. “It’s true, I felt the same way—I wanted freedom. Freedom to have fun, to work hard, to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Babies cry a lot, and they poop and puke and make life hard. And I totally understand anyone who makes the decision to not have children. It’s personal and private and valid.” Then I think of Tilly and her sweet little face, her infectious baby laugh, her joy when she sees me, and my heart swells so big in my chest I almost can’t breathe. “But please, please, please, I beg you, get to know your child. Take responsibility. Give yourself the chance to fall in love with her. Or him. Maybe you can’t. Maybe you really are too self-centered for that. But maybe you can. And maybe having that baby will teach you what love really is.”

He stares at me.

I stand and pick up my uneaten bagel in the wrapper, then my coffee. “I don’t want to see you ever again. Good luck.”

I march out of the coffee shop. On the street, I pause. Holy shit. That was good!

I’m proud of myself. But I’m also alone. Again.

At the shelter, I take Atticus and Diva for a walk, bundled up against the chilly wind that’s blowing today. I help Joe give another dog a bath, and I spend some time brushing Diego. Or attempting to. He’s not thrilled about it, but the idea is to get him used to it, so I try.

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