Page 106 of Keeping the Score

Her head jerks back. “Shut the front door. Really? Where?”

“At Bagelicious. I… think he was looking for me. He wanted to talk.”

“He better not be fucking stalking you.” She scowls.

“Yikes. I don’t think so. I told him I never want to see him again.”

“Whoa.”

“Get this! He and Haven broke up!”

Her jaw drops.

I related the conversation I had with him.

“Wow,” she says slowly. “That’s wild. Didn’t I say that, though? He’s such a shithead. It’s karma.”

“Right?”

She takes a gulp of her wine. “You think Ford is like that, too.”

“He’s been very clear his priority is his career.”

“It sounds like that’s changed, though.”

Then I tell her about the game last night. “If he was distracted about Tilly, that’s really bad. He can’t be happy about that.”

“Hmmm.”

“I have to admit, he’s really made Tilly the priority.”

Elodie shakes her head. “You should see the look on your face.”

I blink. “What?”

“Like you’re in love.”

I drop my head forward.

“Andi. Think about it. Is Ford really like Trevor?”

I know the answer immediately. I don’t have to think about it. Ford is nothing like Trevor. They are both professional athletes and dedicated to their sport. But that’s it. Ford was there for me as a friend, even before we started sleeping together. He went to the awards dinner with me. He went for a beer with a friend so he could talk about his grief. His teammates love him and respect him. He changed his whole life for his daughter, rather than reneging on his responsibilities to her—unlike Trevor.

He’s a good man.

“No.” I screw up my face. “No, he’s not like Trevor at all. But it’s probably best if things end between us once Tilly’s gone. He won’t need me anymore. I can get back to normal. It’s been tough running a business and looking after a baby.”

“Many people do it,” Elodie says dryly.

“I know, I know. We got through it.” I tell her about my misgivings about seeing Ford and being “just friends” and maybe seeing Tilly once in a while in passing. As I talk, my voice catches and I try to breathe around the emotion swelling from my chest into my throat. “I don’t think I can stand that.”

She looks at me with sympathy. “I get that.”

“I think I’ll move.”

“Whaaat!”

I nod. “Oh. I have to wake up Tilly.” I wipe my fingers on a paper napkin. “I’ll be right back.”

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