I felt like Brad's girlfriend that morning, waking up all cuddled into him, making him coffee while he got dressed for work, then finally getting to my list of things to do for the day. It was strange, something that I didn't think I'd feel when I moved in with him. I'd expected my body to be on fire upon being in close proximity to him, of course, but I now had my heart heavily invested in this relationship, if I could even call it that at that moment.

Soon after he left home with a gentle kiss on my lips and one on Max's cheek, I really started thinking about what happened last night. A part of me wanted to get a pill and eliminate any chance that I might get pregnant with his baby, but then that would also eliminate every chance of our being a family. The kind that I felt we already were when he kissed us goodbye.

My friends were right. I was way too avoidant, and I was starting to realize that Brad was too. He'd been clear about the fact that he didn't want Wayne anywhere close to me or to Max, but at the end of the day, it wasn't his decision to make. It was mine, and if we were ever going to be anything more than friends, he needed to accept that. We hadn't spoken about any of it that morning, though I was certain that he, too, had it sitting in the back of his mind.

My anxiety was now hitting the roof, and I wished more than anything that I was able to prescribe myself some anti-anxiety medication. I was literally everything that people thought a therapist should never be. I was out of control, my mind was circling the same thought over and over, and I was lost.

A therapist or not, I was human and today, I needed the day off to figure my own shit out.

I called each of my appointments that day and canceled them, citing an unforeseeable circumstance. Then, I browsed through my missed calls and some unread text messages that I wished would disappear and reply to themselves. I didn't know what the right thing to do was ,but at the time, I had a strong feeling that the right thing would be to straighten my back and call Wayne.

He didn't answer at the first ring, and I exhaled a deep breath and set my phone down.

Then it vibrated with another text message.

Call you in five, it read.

I rolled my eyes.

Sure. Take your time asshole, I thought.

He called back in exactly five minutes, and I felt my thumb shake while swiping across the screen.

"Hello?" I said, my voice shaky and low.

"Heather," he replied. "Thanks for agreeing to talk to me."

I suddenly felt my anxiety turn into unadulterated anger when I heard his voice. I was no longer scared. I was mad.

"What do you want, Wayne?"

He paused, and I heard him breathe heavily on the other line.

"I'm sorry, Heather. I just wanted to apologize."

"You just wanted to apologize?" I smirked, taking the phone away from my ear to take collect my thoughts.

"Yes," I heard from a distance. "I just wanted to apologize for everything that I did and said while you pregnant with—"

"Don't say his name," I snapped and stood, looking at my son, who was oblivious to everything that was going on with me. In a way, I envied him for it.

"I don't want to hear you say my son's name."

"He's mine too, Heather," Wayne reminded me. "Your anger is justified, but—"

"But?" I said, narrowing my eyes and wishing that he was standing in front of me. I wanted to know if he'd have the audacity to confidently say these things in person.

"Forget it," he said.

"I've been trying to forget it, Wayne, and I may have even pushed everything out of my mind, so I'm not sure why you've gotten in touch with me now, after all those months of not wanting to have anything to do with me or your son."

I balanced one arm over the other, feeling as though I had smoke escaping my flared nostrils.

"I called you because I want to make things right."

"Wow," I exclaimed. "Make things right. Do you even fucking hear yourself?"

For once, I didn't care about using swear words in front of my son. I couldn't help it. I was the only way to adequately express the state of delusion that his biological father was in.

"You may not believe it now, but I want to prove to you that I've changed. I have my life together and I just need another chance from you. I promise you that—"

I hung up and threw my phone over the mattress, then lifted Max from his crib and patted his back. I smothered my son's cheek with kisses. Holding him in my arms was the only thing that always effectively calmed me down and showed me the way. I was a mother first, and it was my job to put his needs before my own.

I'd hung up on Wayne because I could tell that he wanted an answer right away. An answer that I most definitely didn't have. I didn't even want to tell him that I needed to think about it because that would imply a possible positive response.

My answer to Wayne had to be a simple ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. There couldn’t be any room for confusion, and I knew exactly the person I needed to see before I told him anything.

My sister, Jessica. She'd been in the same boat a few months ago, and I knew she'd be happy to weigh the pros and cons of either side with me. I lay on the bed, rubbing Max's belly when I called her, asking her to meet me at my previous apartment today.

* * *

I unlocked the door to the place I called home not too long ago. Jessica stood behind me, carrying Max and holding on to Lily's hand.

"Here we are," I announced, moving my head around to explore the two-bedroom space that looked awfully small now that I'd gotten a taste of living in a condo that was no less than a goddamn mansion.

"Nice." Jessica smiled, running her finger across the side table that sat next to the couch, then examining the dirt on her index finger.

Jessica was a clean freak, the one quality that irked her ex-husband Tyler the most. The fact that it was annoying was the only thing that I agreed with him about. Jessica was only five years older than I was, but she was also ten years wiser. She always had her head straight, knew what she wanted out of life, and how she'd want to go about things in troublesome situations. Basically, she was the opposite of me, and today, I needed someone to kick my indecisiveness in the butt.

"Are you going to move back in your old bedroom?" she asked, poking her head through the door.

"No," I said, sounding unsure.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, does that mean things are getting somewhere with Brad?"

I laughed. "Why would you say that? He's a friend and I enjoy living with him."

That was such a big load of crap and I mentally smacked myself in the head for saying it.

She laughed back and beat me to it when she smacked the side of my arm. My sister was perceptive, and I admired that about her. Just like my friends, she'd been pretty much waiting for me to tell her that I was in love with my best friend, but she knew all too well that getting those words out of me wouldn't be so easy.

We sat next to each other on the couch, and I wondered when it would be the best time to bring it up. My nightmare with Wayne.

"What's going on with you, sweetie?"

My eyes welled immediately. She leaned forward and asked Lily to babysit her little cousin, then turned her attention back at me.

"Is it Brad? Did you two have a fight?"

I rubbed my temples and whined.

"No. No, we didn't have a fight. There is nothing to fight about . . . yet. We're not even officially in a relationship."

She arched her brow and gave me a wicked smile, which made me chuckle.

"At least there is an unofficial relationship to speak of."

I shrugged. "That's not what is bothering me, though." I paused and let out a sigh. "It's Wayne. He reached out to me and said that he wanted to meet—"

Jessica held up her hand, struggling with her next words.

"Whoa. Hold on. The asshole of the year called you out of the blue? How did he even get your new number?"

I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at her.

"It's not that hard," I said. "We know a lot of the same people. I dated the guy for over a year, remember?"

She slowly nodded. "Oh, I remember. I also remember how miserable he made you and the way things changed overnight once he found out that you were pregnant with Max."

The judgment in her voice was piercing through ever so clearly. "I'm sorry," she continued. It just makes me so mad to think about him."

I sighed. "I know it does. You sound exactly the same way when you talk about Tyler."

She chuckled. "No, Tyler is a way bigger asshole. He was my husband. At least you never got around to marrying Wayne the asshole. Lucked out in that way for sure."

"Ah," I replied. "I have to disagree with you on that one. Wayne told me to get a" —I paused to lower my voice— "fucking abortion, so he's the one who wins the asshole competition."

Jessica laughed.

"Fine. Wayne can enjoy the asshole trophy."

"The Clayton sisters," I said. "I think we might be cursed."

She smacked the back of my hand.

"I might be, but you're not. You've got a hot blue-eyed god living with you in the same apartment whom you might be in an unofficial relationship with."

I smirked and stood to hold Max when he started getting fussy.

"About what you said earlier," I continued. "It doesn't matter if I wasn't married to . . . you know who. Once you have a kid with someone, it's all the same, ex-husband or not."

She pursed her lips. "True. Very true. So, what are you thinking? What are you going to do about it?”

I sniffed and sat back down next to her, unable to say anything more in Lily's presence. The girl was old enough to understand things clearly, and the last thing I wanted was to blurt out any of the forbidden names and have her remember that I mentioned her father in a negative light.

Perceptive as she was, Jessica got her daughter busy with some of Max's old toys that were still lying around the living room.

"Now tell me."

"What do you think I should do? You've been in a similar situation yourself."

She swung her head from side to side and pondered for a few seconds.

"Honestly, I don't think it was all that similar. You're a more sensitive person than I am, and I don't think you'd be able to handle the stress that's going to come with letting Wayne into your son's life."

I shrugged. "You do it with so much ease, even though you have full custody of Lily."

She gave me a half-smile. "Well, I wasn't going to let a judge tell me what I should or shouldn't do with my daughter. It's reassuring that if it ever comes to it, I can tell Tyler to back off, but until then, it's okay with me if he wants to have a relationship with her.”

I let that soak in for a bit before responding. "That is important, right? I need to let him have this."

She shrugged. "That's entirely up to you, and I do think that this is not just about Max. It's also about you."

I bit my lower lip. "You're right. I think it is. I'm just worried that I'll go back to square one, you know? It took me so long to move past—"

She took my hand in hers. "You deserve closure. You never got it. Talk to him. Meet him or whatever. See what he has to say and then make up your mind about letting him into Max’s life. Otherwise, you'll always wonder."

I cupped her hand with both of mine and smiled. "I needed someone to tell me this."

Pursing my lips, I resisted the urge to let my tears flow freely.

"You'll be fine," she said. "Don't worry about it. And also . . ."

I lifted my eyes. "Also what?"

"I would suggest that you keep Bradley in the loop with everything that you're doing," she continued. "If you think there's anything more between you both than just friendship, then it's important for you to inform him of all of this. The last thing you want is for him to think that you're going behind his back and meeting with your ex. I know that feeling all too well.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled, most likely thinking about the unbelievably challenging time in her life when Tyler had put her through hell, pretending as if he totally wasn't sleeping with another woman. Cheating was completely out of the question for me, but what she meant was that I could leave absolutely no room for ambiguity.

I nodded, my smile widening as I looked around. "So, anyway. Did this place pass the Jessica test? Do you want to live here or not?"

"Honestly?" Her brows furrowed. "Every place is better than our parents’ house. Like Jesus, they're so sweet, but their constant worry for me shows on their faces all too well."

"I get that. But to be fair, you're not the easiest person to live with either. I bet you've been going around and dusting every corner of their house and driving them as crazy as they’re driving you.”

She wrinkled her nose and teased me, and I laughed because she never argued about what I said.

The next hour flew by. We talked about rent, the neighborhood, and all things New York. There were some minor arguments about Brooklyn being better than New Jersey but nothing serious that had either of us wanting to pull the other's hair out.

I loved my sister and the calming presence she had, though all the while, my palms were getting sweaty thinking about how this conversation with Brad was going to go.