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“Okay, Mari, are you sitting down?”
“Yeah, why?”
“The next part is going to sting.”
I scoff. What could be worse than Johnny Raikes getting married? Nothing.
“I can handle it,” I say.
As Teresa talks, the hesitation is still audible in her voice. “It’s not that he couldn’t wait for her, it’s that he didn’t think she should leave their daughter for so long since it would’ve been impossible for them to follow her around all the various filming locations.”
The world sways. Johnny Raikes was married and has a daughter.
“Marissa, are you okay?”
“Yeah, no.” I cough. “I’m not sure. He has a daughter?”
“Yeah, her name is Nora.” Oh. “She should’ve started in the first grade this year.”
“Did they get married before or after she was born?”
“His wife was already pregnant.”
“A shotgun wedding?”
“Yep.”
That makes it slightly less romantic and a touch more bearable. Still, I try to swallow, but my mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton. John is a father. A single dad. No. Nope. I don’t care about that.
“I can’t believe you knew all this time he was married and had a kid and never told me.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think me telling you would’ve helped you in any way.”
She’s right. I would’ve obsessed over it nonstop.
“Thanks for telling me now.”
“Anything for you, sis.” Teresa sighs into the phone. “At least now you have the facts.”
“Thanks, Tessie.” I exhale. “Can I call you back?”
“Sure thing.”
I hang up, then lean against the bench, staring out at the dark river.
He got married. He stood in front of a woman and promised to love her for the rest of his life. And they had a child together.
I need a drink, a stiff one. Then I remember I’m trying to get pregnant and can’t have any alcohol. Talk about awful timing.
I look up at the darkening sky and breathe in and out slowly, struggling to calm myself. But my head is spinning. I need someone who can center me. I swipe my thumb over the dark screen of my phone, unlocking it. There’s only one person I can call.
8
MARISSA
Blake doesn’t pick up on the first try. I call her again. I need my best friend right now. The line connects this time, but I only hear static on the other side. “Blake?” I say. “I need to see you, I-I—”
“You’re on speaker,” Blake interrupts me. “Lost the phone under the couch and had to use vocal to pick up.”
