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I blew out a short breath. “Among other things. Yes.”
“So how are you going to win her back?”
“I have no idea. Do you know how to erase a botched proposal followed by a ramble rage fest?”
“This is rehab, not marriage counseling.” Adriana leaned back, drumming long, delicate fingers against her chin. “But I do have some ideas.”
“I’m an open book,” I said honestly.
***
Chapter 26
Cici
I leaned back in my chair, ignoring the squawk it gave as I shifted my weight. “Thanks, I needed that,” I added sarcastically to the chair, rubbing a self-conscious hand across the roundness of my belly. In the past week or so, I’d really popped.
Or at least that’s what all the books said. I had simply declared that any week in which Brady and I didn’t see each other was an official “eat my feelings” week. And I had really made a dent in my candy stash. And Ashlyn’s. Hell, I’d made it to Beth’s house too.
At the end of this week, my new candy habit had only brought out my least favorite symptom—heartburn—and still, there was nothing from Brady. When I’d told him to go away, I’d meant it. Because at that moment, I’d been terrified of the commitment.
I’d been terrified of the man I had fallen in love with without knowing really anything about him. Not that it changed anything. I was still having his baby. I was still stuck, hopefully in love with him.
But now I knew how much the same we were. And how explosive that could make us.
He’d been driven to succeed, to overdo everything in his whole life. And I’d spent my entire life trying to measure up.
We were both overachievers. We both had big tempers and were big talkers. He would challenge me on everything. Nothing would ever be easy.
But then, I thought as I gnawed on my lip and I stared down at my decaf coffee, I wasn’t easy either. I think that was what drew me to him in the first place. He complimented my needs in a way that made me feel recognized and powerful.
The reasonable half of my brain screamed at me to minimize my chaos. I didn’t need anything else complicated in my life right now. I tucked my hand over my rapidly expanding belly. I had enough going on. Right?
Tears threatened. Damn hormones.
What I needed to focus on was filling this role. I’d already spoken with Ashlyn’s longtime friend, Emma Hansen, who had accepted a temporary position with Grove Communications to do some sales in my absence. She would be here in a few weeks. The perfect timeline, really. She’d have time to get trained up and help Ashlyn cover the new accounts while Peter kept Leden happy.
And I… I would push this watermelon child out of my body and spend the next eight to twelve weeks dripping bodily fluids.
Goodie.
But I still had one other role I’d wanted to interview for. I wanted to hire a nanny. I knew that’s what Brady had been leaning towards too. After I’d gotten pregnant, we’d started looking at day care facilities between our homes. Nothing had felt right. When Brady had suggested we hire a nanny, I’d almost passed out at the price tags. But honestly, prices didn’t matter anymore. For the first time in my professional career, I felt good at Grove Communications. And based on what I’d seen of Brady’s life, Leden was paying him outrageous sums of money. Our baby would want for nothing.
Well. Nothing fiscally motivated.
We still hadn’t seen each other since the proposal. Each day I woke up thinking I’d be better, when in fact it was the opposite. And while I’d sent him the date for this interview, I had no idea if he’d show up or not. She had been his favorite candidate before all of this blew up. I’d worn my last pair of manageable heels just in case he came in.
A sigh rattled my core. Because I wanted him here. Not just the interview, but at everything. At home when I stress ate an entire package of crackers. When I cried, handing over Leden to Peter. Even when I scribbled down yet another name that theoretically could work for our son.
I was already changing. I was adapting. I could feel the growth, the decisions being made. I was acting like a mother, and it empowered me. Now I just needed the other half of my jagged, swollen puzzle piece.
Luna’s message box popped up on my screen.
Luna: Ready for your next interview?
Cici: Yes, thanks. Send them in.
My first applicant, a red-cheeked heavyset woman named Nancy Stewart, bustled into my office, filling it immediately with a sort of warmth and comfort that I would've killed for. The nuns at my private school hadn’t exactly brought that to the table when I was younger.
