Because I know it’s not just surviving those first few months.
It’s years of commitment, years of supporting another person, years of potentially doing it alone.
Yes, Leo says he’s going to stick around, but I lived through what happens when reality doesn’t measure up to the fantasy you’re wishing for.
I need to be prepared.
I need to keep myself—and my baby—safe.
Things will be tight—so tight I might have to give up the storefront for a time. But I’ve run my business out of my personal kitchen before. I can do it again. It’s complicated and slow and exhausting, but it’s doable, even if it feels a bit like failing.
Still, it’s a backup plan.
For now, I pack my schedule with as many events as I can handle—or maybe it’s actually a few more than I can reasonably juggle without wanting to cry.
But that’s okay.
I’ll make it work.
I’ll survive.
I always do.
Even if I have to cry my way through.
Twelve
Leo
My phone buzzes but it’s not the person—the woman—I want to be texting me.
Which makes me even bigger of an asshole than I previously thought.
Because I really should be talking to Shannon.
I haven’t even seen her since last week, and that was a drive-by at the bar.
We’ve barely texted aside from me confirming the date and time for her birthday celebration.
But do I text her back now?
Nope.
Instead, I scroll through my messages and find the chain I started with Harper.
Which contains precisely one message.
From me.
With no reply from her.
I can’t even see if she read it because she has her read receipts turned off.
I might have gone over to her apartment again—and not to doorbell ditch a box of supplies on her porch this time—if not for Aiden mentioning Luna had met up with her and Faye for breakfast at Molly’s this morning.
Hopefully, the ginger candies mean she’ll keep the food down.
I look down at my phone screen, read the words for the hundredth time since I sent them.
