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“She sounds lovely,” Marie said. “I’m so happy for you. It seems like it’s all going really well.”
“It is,” I confirmed. “And she is.”
Marie’s blue eyes narrowed, her reporter senses pricking up. “Then why am I sensing hesitation? Is something troubling you?”
I shook my head, forcing my smile wider. “No, not really. It’s all just been a lot to process.”
“I can understand that.” She continued to study me. “What about the birth father? You haven’t mentioned him much. How’s it been, interacting with him again?”
Freaking journalists and their finely honed instincts. I shook my head as I floundered for words to sum up our interactions. “Complicated. Confusing. Messy.”
Marie nodded sagely. “Do you want to talk about it?”
When I searched my feelings, it surprised me to find that I did. Opening up to Marie about Erin had helped me process my feelings, and I suspected talking to her about Donal would have a similar effect.
Making friends had never been easy for me, and I’d only grown more closed off with age. In part, because I’d learned through experience that I needed to smooth off some of my sharper edges if I wanted people to like me. I’d gotten into a habit of holding back rather than sharing what I was thinking and feeling.
But also, I simply hadn’t made friendship a priority. For years I’d been trolling dating apps and forcing myself to go on dates in my perpetual quest for romantic or sexual companionship. But I hadn’t made an equal effort to find or maintain friendships, which were equally as important—perhaps even more so. Instead of wasting my time looking for romance, maybe I should be working harder to build friendships.
“Would you like to go out to lunch?” I asked Marie spontaneously.
“I wish I could,” she said, looking genuinely disappointed. “But I’ve got a conference call in twenty minutes.” Her expression brightened. “You know what though? Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? If you’re free, that is.”
“I’d love that,” I answered honestly. “As long as it’s no trouble.”
“No, it’ll be fun. I’ll throw some curry in the pressure cooker when I get home. Matt will be thrilled.”
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
TESS
Marie’s husband opened the door when I arrived at their apartment. “You’re Tess,” he said, giving me a perfunctory appraisal. “Marie’s friend from the office co-op.”
“You must be Matt.” I’d seen his photo on Marie’s desk, but I’d never met him before.
“Correct. I’m Marie’s husband.” He wore jeans and a dark red T-shirt emblazoned with the wordRocinanteabove a diagram of a spaceship. His clothes, combined with his rumpled hair, gave him a boyish appearance despite his strong, square jaw.
“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand. “Thank you for having me to your home.”
He shrugged as he accepted my handshake. “I don’t mind that you’re here because it means Marie made coconut curry.”
She’d already warned me about Matt’s penchant for unfettered honesty, so I took the comment in stride. “I take it you’re a fan ofThe Expanse,” I said with a nod at his T-shirt.
“Do you likeThe Expanse?” he asked, focusing on me with increased interest.
“I’m only up to the third season,” I warned him. “So no spoilers.”
Marie appeared at Matt’s side and pulled me into a hug. “Welcome. Come in.”
The apartment they shared was even smaller than mine, but it had a comfortable, homey feel to it and a delicious smell that I assumed was the curry. I handed Marie the wine I’d brought and followed her through to the kitchen. She took out a corkscrew and opened the bottle while Matt got down three glasses.
“Are you staying to hang out with us?” Marie asked, flashing a teasing smile at him. “I thought you might hide in the bedroom to avoid the girl talk.”
“I’m staying for the coconut curry.” He stooped to peer at the display on the pressure cooker. “It’s ready. Should we eat?”
Marie rolled her eyes as she handed me my wine. “The man is cuckoo for coconut.”
I suppressed a smile, amused by their banter. “This is a great apartment.”
