We move into the lounge and settle in.
I tuck my legs under me on the couch. “So—what’s been going on with you two?”
Paige lets out a breath. “Work, mostly. It’s been full on. I got put on a new account a few months ago, and it’s been nonstop ever since.”
“Is that good or bad?” I ask.
“Both. Good for my career. Bad for my sanity.”
Zoe laughs. “She says that, but she loves chaos.”
“I do not love chaos.”
“You absolutely do.”
Paige rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Well, maybe a little. I like being good at something.”
“That tracks,” I say.
Zoe shifts Theo on her lap. “I don’t even know what day it is half the time. Everything revolves around this one now.”
I glance at Theo. “He seems pretty happy about that.”
“He is.” She glances down at him, smiling. “Sleeps and eats well. I got lucky.”
Paige snorts. “After thirty-one hours of labor, I think you earned it.”
I spent an entire night in labor while a hurricane tore through the island, convinced Dane and I might not survive it and knowing the whole time that our baby wouldn't. I know a little something about miserable births.
“I thought I was going to die. Or kill someone.” Zoe glances down at Theo and smiles. “Worth it though.”
“Of course it was,” I say.
She has no idea how lucky she is.
I'd endure thirty-one hours. Thirty-one days. Anything, if it meant Connor had lived.
“Do you want to hold him?”
No. Actually, I don't.
I haven't held a baby since Connor.
“I’m sure he’d prefer to stay in your arms,” I say.
Zoe smiles. “Trust me, he’ll be fine. He’s a happy baby. He doesn’t fuss much.”
Before I can come up with another excuse, she passes him over.
He settles without fuss, looking up at me with those serious, assessing eyes. I adjust my hold, keeping my expression steady. He’s solid in my arms, warm. His hand closes around my finger.
Connor wouldn’t be much older than him.
I let the thought sit where it is. It’s easier that way. He’d probably be walking now. Trying to talk a little, maybe. I’d know him without thinking—the small things, the way Zoe knows this one.
Paige glances at Zoe, then back at me, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup.
“So… what was it like?” she asks. “The island, I mean.”
