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“Could you be any more sexist?”

“I’m a realist and sexism is reality.”

“Can we not have this conversation? Things are going well, except for the damn team not playing for shit and Ben’s parents suing us for custody.”

“Jesus, that’s your way out and you act like it’s a nuisance.”

“I don’t want or need a way out. I’m happy.”

There was a moment of silence before my father said, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you sleeping with her? Please tell me you’re being careful.”

“Her name is Hadley,” I said through gritted teeth, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“Whatever. Does she know who your family is and how much money you’re worth?”

“We’ve never talked about it, but I’m sure she does since she and Lauren were best friends. She’s not after my money, Dad.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Ben and Lauren wouldn’t leave custody of their kids to someone like that.”

“She might be a great surrogate mom, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a gold digger. You used to be more careful than this, son.”

“Dad, everything is fine. Hadley’s a great woman. You’d like her.”

“Liking her isn’t the issue—your future is. It’s time for you to think about settling down and it’s not going to be with some wannabe journalist from New York.”

“Dad, she’s an editor for one of the biggest lifestyle magazines in the country. She’s not a wannabe anything.”

“Wannabe wife of a Kirby.”

“You don’t know that and, frankly, it’s a little insulting, both to me and to her. I’m not an idiot and I’ve managed to avoid marrying a gold digger these past twenty-nine years, so I think I’ve got it under control.”

My father snorted. “Just the fact that you’re entertaining the thought of raising these kids makes me doubt everything you’re doing. Why would you do this to yourself? Seriously, having a convenient piece in your bed isn’t—”

“Okay, stop. That’s not what this is and I never said I was sleeping with her.”

“But you are, and we both know it. I’m trying to look out for you, son, since you obviously aren’t thinking straight.”

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. Anyway, your mother wants to say hello. Don’t mention any of this to her, okay? It upsets her.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes since no one would see it anyway.

Chapter Eighteen

Hadley

“That one is Mommy’s favorite,” Annalise said as I picked up a bottle of perfume from Lauren’s bathroom vanity.

Miss Dior. She’d sent me a bottle of this perfume a few years ago, and I’d thought of her whenever I saw it sitting on my bathroom counter, or when I’d spritzed it on.

“Squirt it on you,” Annalise said.

As I put Lauren’s perfume on, I realized Wes was right. Living here and leaving everything as it was had been the best move for Annalise right after Ben and Lauren died. But we couldn’t do it forever.

A couple weeks ago, Nina had told me she and Drew would come over and pack up Lauren and Ben’s clothes and personal things whenever we were ready, and I’d thought I could never be ready. The things Lauren had left behind comforted me. I couldn’t ever be her, or raise her children as well as she would have, but I could use her handwritten blueberry muffin recipe. I could bake those muffins in her muffin pans, and arrange them on her favorite stoneware platter.

But would I still be doing that six months from now? A year from now? Wes and I still hadn’t had a decisive conversation about the future. In their will, Ben and Lauren had asked us to decide who would raise the kids, but that was an impossible decision. Wes and I both loved them dearly.

What had started out as scratching an itch—sleeping with Wes—was becoming something more for me. We were going out on a date tonight. Nash and Lars were coming over to babysit.

There were difficult decisions that had to be made—eventually. For now, I was getting ready for my date and spending time with Annalise.

“I look pretty,” she said, admiring herself in the mirror.

I glanced at her and laughed. While I’d been concentrating on applying my fake eyelashes, she’d opened one of my eye shadow palettes and rubbed a dark green shade on her eyelids.

“You always look pretty,” I said. “Makeup or not.”

“Will Thor like it?”

I shook my head and laughed again. Annalise was developing a serious crush on Lars. She’d gotten her nails painted turquoise on their “date” and slept with her new stuffed bear every night.

“I think Thor prefers your natural look, baby,” I said, putting makeup remover on a cotton pad and removing the eye shadow.

“You should wear a dress,” she said as I finished putting on the rest of my makeup. “Mommy wore dresses when she went on dates with Daddy.”

“I might. I have three outfits to try on, and one of them is a dress. I’m going to wear whichever one you like best.”

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