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I finish dressing, by which time I’ve made my decision. “Look, Cora, you’re a special woman, but I’m not ready to get so serious.”
“Relax,” she says. “It was just an idea. We don’t have to make a baby.” She laughs to prove to me that it’s casual.
I know better having been down that road. She’ll leave it alone for a while, but it will be festering at the back of her mind. And all along, I’ll be feeling guilty as fuck. No way am I putting myself through that. I stand up and pace the room. God, I hate this part. It feels worse now because Cora and I had a real connection.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Cora asks in disbelief.
“Yeah.”
Sometimes the only way to cut ties is to be ruthless. I hate myself right now. Cora is an awesome woman, and the kindest thing to do is to let her go find a man who will love her and give her a baby.
She inhales deeply. “I never pegged you to be a bastard.”
Admiration for her flows through me. Cora’s voice is calm and controlled.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
Regret mingled with relief wash through me as I hurry out. I imagine another man walking through Cora’s front door, and my chest burns with jealousy.
Chapter 2
Cora
Three years later
My palms are sweaty as I drive to Riley’s place to pick her up for my nonappointment at the fertility clinic. When I found out they cater to walk-in clients, I decided to be one of those patients who don’t make an appointment. Just in case I change my mind.
I slow down and stop my car in front of the charming single-family home where my best friend Riley lives with her husband. Before I can compose myself, the front door swings open, and Riley bounds out, energetic even at the first trimester of pregnancy.
I can’t help wondering if I’ll be as energetic as she is, or I’ll be as sick as a dog. Probably the latter with my luck.
“Looking good, mama,” I say as she enters the car.
“We’ll both rock this mom thing,” she says in her typical Riley way. Nothing fazes her these days.
My insides tense at the mention of what I’m about to do. I feel suddenly unsure of myself, even if it’s something that I’ve been thinking about for years.
“You okay?” Riley says, tuning into my mood.
“I’m scared,” I admit to the only person I would tell anything.
Riley takes my hand and covers it with both of hers. “Of course, you are. It’s a big decision but remember you can always change your mind.”
She’s right; no one is holding a gun to my head. I inhale deeply and remind myself why I’m doing this. I’ve wanted a man and a baby for as long as I can remember, and in that order.
The problem is that the men part hasn’t worked too well in almost five years. No man has come close to my ideal man. Wait, that’s not quite true. There was one who came close, but his interest was sex, not babies. Even now, it hurts to remember, and I push away thoughts of T from my mind. I’m a strong, independent woman, and just because I don’t have a man doesn’t mean that my plans for a family can’t go forward. I’ll have my baby, and together, we’ll be a family.
I open my eyes and face Riley. “Let’s do this.”
“Okay,” Riley says.
I turn the ignition key and navigate the car back onto the road.
“I’m excited,” Riley says. “Our babies will grow up together. They’ll be best friends, just like we are.”
I laugh at Riley’s enthusiasm. “We should probably get me pregnant first.”
Warmth fills my middle. The thought of our babies growing up together just like we did makes me giddy with happiness. Riley and I grew up next door to each other, and our moms are also best friends. It’s cool to think that our babies might carry on the same tradition.
“How did you sleep last night?” I ask her.
“Pretty good, actually,” she says. “I hope that phase is over.” Riley’s been having a rough time sleeping lately, but the doctor is not worried about it.
We catch up as we drive to the clinic. Riley regales me with tales of her workplace, which is usually more interesting than mine. She works for the ambulance service as a paramedic while I own and work in a gym. The only thing the gym is good for is ogling guys. Contrary to popular belief, the guys who go to the gym are mostly married.
Butterflies fill my stomach again as I bring the car to a stop outside the clinic. I turn off the engine, and Riley and I get out of the vehicle.
The clinic occupies one side of the first floor. We walk through double glass doors and walk up to the receptionist.
