Page 212 of Diego

I live here.

Temporarily.

The word still comes automatically, but it feels less convincing than it used to.

Cecilia makes another small sound and leans against Julia’s leg.

Julia looks down. “You want up?”

Cecilia raises both arms.

Julia lifts her onto her lap and settles her against her chest, one hand rubbing absently over her back while she continues talking to Victoria about something Donna said the last time they were all together. Cecilia rests her cheek against Julia and immediately starts playing with her mother’s necklace.

I think of the baby inside me.

The thought no longer arrives with the same sharp edge of fear it carried after the hospital. The fear is still there. I suspect it will be there in some form for a long time. But now other things come with it.

A small cup on the coffee table. A toy under the sofa. A child reaching for Diego.

My child reaching for Diego.

I can see that too easily now.

Not as some distant possibility I have to force myself to imagine, but here. Now. In this room.

A baby asleep against his chest while he answers an email. A toddler trying to follow him into his office. A high chair at the kitchen table. Toys where there are currently files. One of those ridiculous plastic bowls with suction cups stuck to the counter.

The images just keep coming.

I shift my legs beneath the blanket and glance toward the windows.

The lake is dark now, barely visible beyond the glass except where the lights reflect off the surface. I have spent weeks looking at that view while telling myself this house belongs to Diego, and I am here only due to certain circumstances.

That is still technically true. But lately, when I think about leaving, I do not feel relieved.

Victoria reaches for a wipe and cleans Leonardo’s fingers before he can put them against the sofa. He objects with a sound that makes her laugh.

“You’ll survive.”

I smile before I can stop myself.

Victoria catches it. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Her expression says she does not believe me, but she lets it go.

Julia shifts Cecilia higher against her shoulder. “You look better.”

“I feel better.”

“That’s good.”

“It would be even better if Dr. Mehta let me leave the house.”

“She will eventually.”

Julia smiles. “You’re really not good at sitting still.”