It is great to see Jenn and Paul. It’s been nearly six months since I’ve seen my best friend, and they are only going to be in New York for a few days.

“Look at you!” Jenn shrieks as she reaches out to my swollen midsection and then wraps me in a hug.

When she backs up, she shakes her head.

“I know,” I say. “I’m huge.”

“No! You’re absolutely radiant.”

I shrug as I reach for Vic’s arm. “I’ve never been happier.”

“It shows,” she says with a smile as she and Paul say their hellos to Vic.

Once we’re seated at a very nice table, high above the city with a spectacular view of the city’s lights, we all fall into easy conversation. That’s the way it is with good friends—as if you’ve never been apart.

After our salads are finished, Jenn asks, “So you’re really going to eat that filet you ordered?”

I smile as my gaze momentarily goes to my husband and then back to my best friend. “I am. The protein is good for the baby.”

“Don’t let her fool you,” Vic says, “even before she was pregnant, she remembered her love of bacon.”

“Bacon!” Jenn says, aghast.

“I still eat Greek salads and yogurt.”

“I personally think it’s great,” Jenn says. “Like I said, you’re simply radiant.”

I notice how momentarily my friend’s gaze goes to Paul and then back to her plate. There’s something hauntingly familiar in her micro-expression.

“Jenn, I need to step away for a moment. Would you like to join me?”

She looks up from her plate. “Sure.”

I give the two men my biggest smile. “We’ll be right back. Babies and bladders—not the most comfortable combination.” I turn to Vic. “Don’t eat my steak.”

Vic reaches for my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Hurry back.”

“Yes...” I feel the warmth on my cheeks, knowing I almost called him Sir in front of our friends. By the twinkle in his dark eyes, he heard the unspoken title too.

Once Jenn and I are alone in the ladies’ room, I turn to my friend. We don’t have much time before our food arrives, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Wrong?” she asks as her voice cracks and moisture fills her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I coo as I wrap her shoulders in my arms. “Please talk to me.”

Her head is shaking against my shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you. But every time I call, you sound so happy. I watch the show, and you look great. I don’t want to be the one who brings you down.” Her tear-filled eyes look at me. “I’m so happy for you. I remember not that long ago...”

The scene of the two of us in an empty restaurant replays in my head. “Is that it? Is it you and Paul?”

She nods. “I-I know I said we were good, and we were...until we weren’t. There’s been stress with his job and mine. Now...I’m afraid...”

My neck straightens. “Same questions you asked me: has he cheated?”

“No. I know he hasn’t. I trust him.”

“You?”

“No, never. I love him. It’s just that...” Her head tilts. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“How did you rekindle the spark? I can see it in your eyes and in Vic’s. You look at Vic like’s he your god.”

“He is,” I answer truthfully. “He’s my everything. I’m not sure how much I can tell you.”

Jenn grabs my hand. “Please. I want to save my marriage.”

“Does Paul feel the same way?”

“I think so. This trip is supposed to be our time alone. I’m afraid it’s too little, too late.”

I squeeze her hand. “It’s never too late. I thought it was for Vic and me, but I was wrong. I have the name of a marriage counselor back in Wisconsin. Would you be willing to explore some unconventional therapy?”

She shrugs. “I want to have what we had. No, I want what you have.”

My mind momentarily goes to the remaining tingle in my ass. I’m not sure if she wants what I have or not, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Then go meet with Dr. Kizer. Let her get to know you. From what I understand, the route she recommended for us isn’t her only therapy option. It may be right for you. It might not be. Be honest with her. Admit what’s missing in your life. All I can say is that she couldn’t have been more right for Vic and me.”

“Please send me her information.”

“I will. If you’re honest with her, Paul, and yourself, you won’t be sorry.”

After drying Jenn’s tears and my use of the facilities—our baby is camping out on my bladder—we go back to the table.

Vic stands as we approach. Leaning in, he kisses my cheek. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is perfect, Sir.” I whisper the last word.

Unconventional was our answer; maybe it will be for Jenn and Paul too.

Only time will tell.