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“No one gets guarantees in life,” Lauren says. “Not when it comes to love, or money, or the years we’ll get. We’re all gambling, every second of every day. But Stevie, you of all people know why it’s important to show up at the table anyway.”
I grin. “Because chances are, I’ll win?”
Lauren grins too. “And if you lose, you’ll learn from it. It’s all good in the end. The only mistake you can make is not showing up. So show up for this man who’s crazy about you.”
I take another breath. Everything inside me feels sore, but the soreness suddenly feels less like a death sentence and more like an accomplishment. Like I’ve just finished my first marathon or something. It was grueling and awful and so much fucking work.
But I did it.
I’m at the finish line. The only problem?
Now I see there’s a whole other race to be run ahead of me. Would you consider making this more than a weekend thing? I’m not gonna beg, but I know I’m gonna regret letting you go if I don’t ask you about working an us into our lives somehow.
“He asked if there was a way for us to do long distance,” I say. “A way to combine our lives.”
Lauren lifts her eyebrows. “So he didn’t ask you to give up yours? Give up Lady Luck?”
I shake my head. “The opposite, actually.”
Kate considers my answer. “See? He gets that a relationship isn’t a one-sided compromise. It’s a two-way street, one that doesn’t have to end in marriage. What’s wrong with pulling, say, a Kurt and Goldie situation? They’ve been together for, like, fifty years, and they never got married.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Yeah, I’d definitely be open to something like that. I love the idea of making our own way with our own rules. But y’all are forgetting that Hank is traditional. I can’t ask him to give up the things he’s always dreamed about.”
Lauren lets my hand go to grab her Bloody Mary. “Yes, you can. Worst-case scenario, he says no, that he can’t compromise on that stuff. But he may surprise you. I think he wants what you want—to be together. Maybe it looks a little different from what he’d always pictured, but that doesn’t mean he won’t consider it. You just have to ask. And asking is something you’ve gotten really, really good at.”
“Ask,” Kate says.
I scoff. “You guys make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is.”
“But what about the long-distance thing?” I run my hands down the front of my pajama pants. They’re starting to get clammy. “How do I address that?”
Kate laughs. “I love you, friend, but I can only help you fix one problem at a time. Go see your man. Figure out what his boundaries are. Then we can talk about distance. Or, really, y’all will, because I have a feeling Hank is going to be open to whatever you ask for.”
“You really think that?”
She dips her head. “I do. You know why I think that? Without having met the guy? Because now that you like yourself, you wouldn’t ever fall for someone who isn’t open to compromise. You’d only be attracted to a relationship that’s real and healthy and nuanced. Even if that relationship was fake for a hot minute.”
“Christ,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “Then there’s that—the fact that we lied to his family’s face. No clue how we’ll clean that one up.”
Kate meets my gaze. “It’ll probably be a mess. But hey, as long as you’re honest this time around, maybe there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I think he wants kids,” I say.
“I think you might too, if you’re with the right person,” Kate says. “Remember how you told me you’d consider kids if Dan helped more? From what you told me about the way the Beauregards operated during that Sunday dinner thing y’all did, and the ovary-destroying way Hank loved up on his niece, it sounds like he’d know how to work together with someone, Stevie. He knows what being an equal partner means.”
“He does.”
He really, really does.
“I am forty, though,” I say. “That could be a challenge in terms of fertility.”
“It could be, yes,” Lauren replies. “But if y’all really want kids, you’ll figure it out. You’re very lucky to have the resources to consider things like adoption or surrogacy.”
“Very lucky,” I agree.
I’m gripped by a strong, smooth kind of excitement. I’m not sure about kids, and I’m not sure about the distance.
But I am sure I’ll allow myself to have what I want.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hank
It’s a rainy, dreary Sunday, the kind of weather that matches my mood.
I go through the motions at the Main House: shake hands, load trunks, hold umbrellas. This was part of the job I always enjoyed. My interactions with the guests after they’ve experienced an excellent stay I’ve helped engineer are satisfying in a bone-deep way.
