The Uber driver dropped me off at a nearby hotel that didn’t look too run-down. Thankfully, I have a little money saved up from my secretary job and can afford a few nights here before figuring out what I’m going to do.

My phone has been ringing off the hook. Between Luke, Bree, and Susan, I haven’t had a moment of peace. I finally decide to turn off my phone after convincing Breezy not to dig up Adam’s corpse and castrate him for me. While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t want her desecrating any graves. And let’s be honest, I wouldn’t put it past her.

I’ve also decided I’m going to take Susan up on her offer concerning Adam’s inheritance. He might’ve been an asshole that never loved me, but I know he would’ve never shied away from his responsibility as a father. He would’ve insisted on taking care of us, which means I’m going to allow him to do it beyond the grave by providing financial support.

And honestly? He kind of owes me one.

The stressful day has definitely caught up to me. I’m absolutely exhausted. I forego a shower and curl up into a ball on the queen-sized bed, breathing deeply through my Braxton Hicks. I read somewhere that stress can cause more contractions, and I can personally testify it’s true.

Thanks a lot, guys.

I shove a pillow under my belly and let the tears roll down my cheeks silently, grateful for the black-out curtains that will hopefully allow me to sleep.

The next morning, I wake up with puffy eyes and feel dehydrated from all my crying the day before. I had a hard time sleeping, tossing and turning all night, finding it impossible to turn off my brain for five minutes so I could get some decent rest. I finally decide it’s time to face the music as I stare at the alarm clock on the nightstand and turn on my phone.

I ignore every text from Luke, and there are a lot of them. I know he’s worried about me, but I don’t think I can handle his attention right now. And if I’m being honest, he’s kind of on my shit list. Adam’s betrayal has made me question each and every interaction I’ve had with both him and Luke. What was real? What was genuine? Anything? Everything? Nothing? How could he have kept this from me? I’m becoming overwhelmed again, and it’s not even noon.

So, I decide to call Susan.

She picks up on the first ring, and we have a quick conversation where she asks long, exhausting questions, and I answer with single syllables. She apologizes profusely for being a B-word (I’m trying to cut back on my naughty language, thanks to my Little Man) and I decide to throw her a bone by grudgingly accepting her apology.

After her explanation, we figure out the money situation. Thankfully, she’s very gracious and insists on dropping off the paperwork at the front desk of my hotel. I’m not ready to see her yet, and am frankly pretty pissed at her still. She might not have known the can of worms she was opening, but she still handed Luke the freaking opener, insisting he spill the beans.

I’m also not in the mood to look for an apartment, but now that I have a seven-pound ticking time bomb that will wait for no one, I need to figure out my living situation before this baby decides to make an appearance.

I was counting on Luke to set up the crib, help paint the nursery, research bottle options, and pick up diapers.

I’m a little ashamed at how much I relied on him, and how I kind of assumed I would still live with him after the baby is born.

He must’ve thought I was crazy. Why would he willingly step into the father role after Little Man was born? This baby isn’t his. He knows this. I know this. How did I somehow space out on that not-so-minor detail? Not the fact that he isn’t the father, but the assumption he’d want to help. How could I assume he’d want anything to do with a postpartum woman and a new baby? I must’ve lost my marbles.

I shrug off my morose thoughts, refusing to beat myself up. I can’t change the past, but I can definitely learn from it.

I’m not going to assume he wants anything to do with me, or Little Man. I won’t, even if it tears me up inside.

What I need to do is move on, by myself, and be the independent woman that I need to be. I’m going to be a single mother. I knew that in the beginning, but I somehow had forgotten, the longer I was around Luke.

To be fair, he did insist on coming to all of my appointments. He read every weekly update about how my baby was developing, receiving notifications on his fruit equivalent. He spent every night snuggled on the couch with me, whispering to Little Man, hoping to gain a connection with him. I never asked him to do any of that. That was all him.

And I love him for it, I begrudgingly admit to myself, feeling a scowl on my face.

I’m pulled from my thoughts after receiving another text, my phone vibrating in my hand.

Breezy: Alright, girly. I can’t allow you to wallow by yourself. It’s against the girl code.

I smile slowly before my phone vibrates again.

Breezy: Where art thou? I’ll bring chocolate.

Breezy: And pizza.

Breezy: And I won’t tell Luke.

Breezy: We’ll make him sweat a lil bit.

I only hesitate for a minute before replying.

Liv: Hotel on Main. Bring donuts too.

Bree: Gotcha covered Livvy Lou.

Within an hour, someone is banging on my door. I walk over to it, peeking through the peephole before swinging the door open. Bree’s hands are ridiculously full. She’s balancing a cardboard pizza box in her hands, and two giant grocery sacks are hanging on her arm.

I laugh at her slightly disheveled appearance. She’s wearing a bright red beanie and her cheeks are flushed from exertion. Her chocolate hair is in messy curls hanging down her back, and a large black winter coat swallows her whole. Black yoga pants and bright-red snow boots finish her ensemble.

I grab the pizza box from her hand as she shoves the door open the rest of the way with her hip and drops the grocery sacks on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room.

She flexes her muscles victoriously at me and proudly states, “I’ve still got it! Do you have any idea how hard that was to carry all your crap from my car, to the elevator, push the stupid button, walk down the never-ending hallway, and knock on your door with my foot? Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy, but my Incredible Hulk muscles never let me down!” She flexes her skinny noodle-like arms once more, kissing her non-existent biceps before pushing me teasingly to the side and stepping into the hotel bathroom. “And now I have to pee,” she smirks, closing the door in my face.

I chuckle at her crazy antics, grateful for her fun sense of humor. She reminds me of Joy from Inside Out, if she was inebriated the entire time.

I take a slice of pizza and moan as the cheese touches my tongue. It’s absolutely delicious, and I am starving! I know I’m going to regret my food choices later today, thanks to acid reflux, but right now I couldn’t care less.

I hear the toilet flush as I bite into my second slice. Bree bounces into the room and grabs her own before sitting next to me on the bed. She kicks her feet up and rests against the headboard before devouring her slice.

“So, Luke’s a wreck,” she states matter-of-factly, her mouth full.

I glare in her direction, placing my half-eaten slice in the box. Apparently, I’ve lost my appetite.

“Way to skip the small talk, Bree,” I growl.

“We both know I’m not known for my subtlety,” she replies cheekily, taking another bite of pizza and causing the cheese to string between her mouth and the slice.

I roll my eyes before picking at some pizza crumbs on my large hoodie and refusing to address the elephant in the room named Luke.

“Look.” She bounces onto her knees, facing me fully and gaining all of my attention, her pizza still in hand.

“Luke was an ass. What he did is one hundred percent wrong. He shouldn’t have kept that from you, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to tell you, especially when his feelings were mucking up everything,” she says, her gaze trying to portray her honesty. “But you gotta cut him a little slack. The big idiot loves you, Liv. He’s pissed at himself for hurting you.”

I bite my lower lip, battling myself internally on how I should reply. “I know he does, and I know he’s your brother, and you don’t want to see him hurting. Hell, I don’t want to see him hurting, either. That isn’t my intention at all. I’m just not ready to let it go quite yet.” I warily look at her, gaging her reaction.

She shrugs one shoulder, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen her. “I’m here for you, Liv. I love my brother, and I know you do, too. But if you’re not ready to see him? I get that. I know we weren’t super close in high school, but I’m here for you. And if you want to make him sweat, then I completely support you in that endeavor,” she grins mischievously. “In fact, I have a brilliant idea.”

I examine her cautiously, afraid of what this girl might consider a brilliant idea.

She grins wider under my scrutiny. “Here’s the deal. Luke’s not leaving without you. He loves you and is absolutely terrified you’re not coming home. But he’s also wasting all his vacation time waiting for you to come to your senses when he should be saving it for when the baby makes his official debut, and he’ll actually be useful.” She rubs my stomach affectionately.

“So, what I propose is….” she drags out the last word, patting my belly softly to make a muffled drum roll sound. “You come stay with me. You’re not ready to move anywhere permanently, especially after the shit storm you just went through. You need time to process everything before you make any big decisions. Specifically ones you might regret.” She looks at me pointedly.

“He’ll know you’re being watched over by his totally awesome sister,” she points to her chest proudly, “and that if you go into labor I’ll be able to take care of everything. He’ll also get daily updates, which will put him at ease while still giving you the space you want right now.” She nods triumphantly as though I’ve already agreed to her insane plan.

“Come on, admit I’m a genius,” she teases, nudging me affectionately.

I giggle lightly and shake my head at her infectious humor.

“Okay.” I shrug my shoulders, grateful I won’t be going apartment shopping quite yet.

I barely get the words out before Breezy is squealing and throwing her arms around me, bouncing up and down on her knees excitedly.

Apparently, I’m moving in with Bree.

I’m totally going to regret this.