Page 96 of Keeping the Score

We get Tilly into her little jacket and a hat and then into her car seat and head home.

“I wishIcould go back to bed,” Andi says with a yawn.

I slant her a glance. “You can.”

After a short pause, she says, “Yeah. I guess I could. I have a lot of work to do though.”

“You always have a lot of work to do.”

This time her silence turns sticky. “What does that mean?”

“It means just what I said—you always have a lot of work to do.” Oh, shit. I remember what she said about being afraid her working so much is what led to Trevor cheating on her. “That’s all I mean, truly. I wasn’t complaining.”

She nods without looking at me. “Okay.”

“If I did think you work too much, it would only be because I want you to have time for fun, too.”

“I do have time for fun.”

“Okay, good.”

The air in the car feels frosty. Shit. After such a fantastic night, I don’t want it to end like this. But I’m not sure what’s wrong.

28

ANDI

When I made that stupid comment about wishing I could go back to bed, it was because I was thinking that I have a child to look after. And then Ford reminded me that Idon’thave a child to look after, and Icouldgo back to bed. It felt like a slap.

And I was already confused. We just had an amazing overnight date where Ford went all out. But what does it really mean? I still don’t know. I wanted to think it meant something important, that Ford’s feelings for me are changing.

Becausemyfeelings forhimare changing.

I’m falling in love with him.

And I’m terrified.

He never said anything, though. Through the romantic dinner and his vulnerability in telling me about his therapy, all during the bubble bath and champagne and the kisses and orgasms, I started hoping. And then he said that, and splat, I was back down to earth.

I need to be careful.

I have to keep telling myself that when I bring home a small Christmas tree. I should put it in my apartment, but I want it for Tilly. She’s too young to know what it is, but I want her tohave that experience, so I haul it into Ford’s place while he’s at a practice. Lieve is there and admires the tree, helping me put it up.

Back at my place, I dig out the ornaments that Trevor and I used to decorate our tree with. I haven’t put up a tree since the divorce. After studying them, I carry them to the trash and toss them in.

Then I go shopping for new ones.

Ford has a late day because they’re shooting photos and videos for social media for Christmas, wearing ugly sweaters and posing in awkward photos, so I spend the afternoon working.

Around five o’clock I get a text.

FORD

We have a problem.

Is it about the tree? Is he joking or does he hate it?

ANDI

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