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“Yeah, he does,” she says softly. “And with the way he wears his heart on his sleeve, a part of you must already know that.”
I suppose she’s right. I did know that. But I can’t imagine it’s still true.
I climb in my car and head toward Elliott Springs because I have one more stop to make. And coming face-to-face with Lucie like I just did seems like a walk in the park by contrast.
Gus answers the door, looking tired and happy and in need of a shave. He grins, those laugh lines around his eyes seeming more deeply etched than they were a few weeks ago. “And Beck said you weren’t coming.”
Just the sound of Beck’s name makes my heart beat harder. I want to ask what else he said, as if I’m a thirteen-year-old with a crush. “He doesn’t know everything.”
Gus smiles. “He doesn’t knowanything. He’s just so besotted with the baby he can’t imagine how everyone else isn’t here on a daily basis.”
My chest floods with something that is half sweet and half sharp. Beck has always been so closed off and alone that I never imagined him even wanting kids, though I’d seen firsthand how excited he was about Hannah. I was an idiot. About so many things.
Gus leads me upstairs to where Rachel sits in a rocking chair, holding her daughter. I freeze, certain that I cannot walk a step farther into this room. I’ve imagined all of this so many times for myself. But before I can think of an excuse to leave, Rachel gives me a gentle smile and crosses the room to deposit Jane in my arms.
The baby probably weighs ten pounds more than Hannah did, yet she’s still so very tiny in my arms. She has wisps of blonde hair like Gus’s, her mouth pursed in sleep, her chest rising and falling rapidly, the way a baby’s does.
I adored Hannah from the moment she was born,beforeshe was born, even. But I could love this little girl, too, if she were mine. I could love this little girl who looks nothing like Hannah or Caleb so hard my heart would break.
Maybe I could have had this, instead, with Beck—the person it should have been with all along. I can’t believe I threw what we had away.
I take a seat in the rocker with Jane in my arms and Rachel sits on the footstool, smiling at both her daughter and me, as if she knew we’d get here one day.
“Doing okay?” she asks.
I nod, blinking back tears. “Yeah.” My voice is hoarse. “It’s weirdly...fine.”
“I figured it would be,” she says, giving my knee a quick squeeze.
We discuss how the past few weeks have gone, and when she asks what I’ve been up to, I tell her all about Natalie and Mimi.
“It’s sort of like the story had a happy ending after all,” she says when I conclude. “A bittersweet one, sure, but you’re talking to Natalie, and you know you were loved. And you’re starting over in San Francisco.”
My laugh is more miserable than joyful. “I wouldn’t say it’s a happy ending just yet.”
She hitches a shoulder. “So you’re bickering with Beck, and you still don’t have a job. You can fix those things easily.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can.”
But when I go to my car an hour later and pull out my phone, there’s a voicemail from Adam Weintraub at Holzig.
He’s offering me the job.
I cry the whole way back to San Francisco, and my tears are happy and sad at once. I wound up with almost everything, but I’m not sure it’s going to be enough.
44
BECK
Last week was terrible. This one is shaping up to be about the same. To be honest, I’m kind of surprised, given how I’ve been driving, that I’m still around to suffer through it.
I got an email from Kate last night, which I haven’t opened. I’m not sure why I’m not opening it—probably because if it’s an apology, it’ll be insufficient, and if it’s not an apology, that’s even worse.
The sight of Caleb walking into the bar is like salt in the wound. Things are fine between us, but he’s the one she wants, the one she chose. That isn’t his fault, but it’s always going to hurt.
He takes a seat in front of me. I breathe deep, willing a calmness I’m nowhere near feeling.
“What’s up?” I ask, in a voice that suggests he should make this fast and be on his way. I can’t help it.
