“Dakota, wait.”
She faced him again.
“This isn’t a good idea.” He pulled one hand free of his jeans and motioned between them. “Us seeing each other. I’m not staying, which means this isn’t going anywhere.”
He was dumping her? They hadn’t technically been dating. How could he be dumping her?
“I didn’t expect it to go anywhere,” she told him, doing her best to keep her voice even. So much for the hopes he would settle here. “I know that you’re heading back to Alaska or wherever, and I’m staying here. This was always just going to be for fun.”
“I thought you might be getting more involved.”
“What gave you that idea?”
He shrugged.
She moved from hurt to pissed. This was so like a man. “I wasn’t,” she said coolly. “I was very clear on the parameters. Please don’t worry about my feelings.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
Her anger grew. She wanted to scream or throw something, then told herself to keep breathing and take the high road. She might not like it now, but she would feel a whole lot better about herself later.
“Have a good night,” she said between clenched teeth and left.
Once outside, she started home, then changed direction a block later and walked toward Jo’s Bar. Tonight was definitely a margarita night. She would drink tequila, have a salad and watch HGTV. Later, when she was at her place, she would take a bath, go to bed, all the while reminding herself that Finn Andersson was an annoying jerk and that she was well rid of the likes of him.
In a couple of days, she would even believe it.
NEVADA’S INVITATION to dinner came at exactly the right time. Dakota appreciated the chance to get out of her house and spend time with her sisters. Three grilled steaks and one bottle of red wine later, they were all feeling pretty good. Dakota hated to upset the mood, but she knew it was time to come clean.
Her sisters were sprawled on the red sectional sofa. There was a fire in the fireplace and the soundtrack from Mamma Mia playing in the background. Montana had already mocked her sister for her choice in music, so Dakota didn’t bother. But she did wait until the song about money was over, before introducing the topic of her infertility.
“I need to tell you something,” she said in the brief silence between songs.
“We already know you’re sleeping with Finn,” Montana told her. “I can’t decide if I want details or not. On the one hand, at least one of us is getting some. On the other hand, I don’t know that I want to be made aware of how pathetic I am. It’s a tough decision.”
“I don’t want to know,” Nevada said. “I don’t want the reminder of what I’m missing.”
Eventually she was going to have to tell them that Finn had dumped her. But it wasn’t what she wanted to talk about tonight. Instead, she had to figure out a way to explain that she would probably never have children. At least not the old-fashioned way.
Montana sat up and looked at her. “What’s wrong?”
“What is it?” Nevada asked, at almost exactly the same moment.
It was as if they were reading her mind. One of the unique realities of being a triplet.
“I saw Dr. Galloway last fall.” There was no reason to explain who the doctor was. All three of them saw her. Dakota would guess most of the women in town had Dr. Galloway as their gynecologist.
“The pain during my periods was getting worse. She did a few tests and it turns out I have some problems.” She went on to explain the ramifications of having both polycystic ovarian syndrome and pelvic endometriosis.
“I actually have a better chance of being struck by lightning than getting pregnant the old-fashioned way,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Even intervention is unlikely to help. I’m thinking of trying for the lottery instead. The lightning thing doesn’t sound very fun.”
Nevada and Montana moved as if one. They crossed the small living room and crouched in front of her chair.
“Are you okay?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Can we do anything? Donate anything?”
“Will it get better over time?”
“Is this why you want to adopt?”
The questions overlapped. Dakota didn’t worry about the turn the conversation was taking. What she felt, what healed the lingering ache in her soul, was the love that comforted her like an embrace.
“I’m fine,” she told them. “Seriously. I’m perfectly fine.”
“I don’t believe that,” Nevada said flatly. “How can this be? You’ve always wanted kids. A lot of them.”
“Which is why I’m adopting. I’m on the list. I could get a call any day now.”
That was a slight exaggeration. So far, her adoption experience had been less than perfect, but it could change. She refused to give up hope.
Montana hugged her. “There are other ways to get pregnant, right?”