I run my hand along my slightly enlarged stomach. “It’s only barely noticeable, but I’m definitely bigger than I was when I was pregnant with E.”
Audrey snorts. “That wouldn’t be hard. No one even knew you were pregnant until the very end. You were tiny carrying him.”
It’s true. I was able to remain at UCLA until March of my junior year, disguising my growing bump with baggy tops until I woke one morning and my belly seemed to have ballooned overnight. I moved in with my parents then and switched to online classes.
Easton Jonathon Lancaster was born at three thirty a.m. on May fifth weighing a teeny six pounds five ounces. You’d never know it looking at him now. He’s tall and a healthy weight for his age.
“Earth to Viv. You’re in la-la land again.” Audrey grins, slouching in her chair in her hospital scrubs.
“I’m blaming my pregnancy hormones this time.” I sit down on the chair behind my desk and get comfortable.
“You’re glowing, babe. It’s great to see. I hated how stressed you were when you were carrying E.”
I rub my lips as I contemplate one of the most stressful periods of my life. “I love that I can embrace my pregnancy this time, but I feel guilty that I didn’t with E.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
I burst out a laugh. “Eh, I’m pretty sure it was. I was the slut who slept with two men in two days on two different continents and then freaked the fuck out when I got pregnant and spent my entire pregnancy stressed over who my baby daddy was.”
“It all worked out perfectly in the end.”
“Thank fuck.” Reeve was ecstatic when I finally announced I was pregnant. I’m ashamed to admit I had known for two months before I told him. It took me that long to work up the courage to say it. Well, that and I was waiting to see if Dillon would reach out to me, but he never did.
He never made any effort to talk to me after I left the pub in Dublin that day.
What a disappointment he turned out to be, but like my bestie just said, it all worked out perfectly in the end.
“I still feel guilty I lied to him,” I admit. A few weeks after I confirmed I was pregnant, Reeve asked me if there was any chance the baby wasn’t his.
I lied and said no.
God, I still feel such horrendous guilt over that.
“If you’d told him the truth, you would’ve taken away his enjoyment of your pregnancy, and maybe you wouldn’t be married to the love of your life with the family and career you always dreamed of living in a house you designed as kids.”
“It doesn’t mean it was right, and what if the baby hadn’t been his?” A full-body shudder works its way through me.
“Don’t do this to yourself, Viv. There’s no point looking back on the what-ifs. Fate brought you back to Reeve and you’re happy, right, babe? You are happy?”
I bob my head. “I am. I love Reeve and Easton with my whole heart. I’m excited to meet the new addition to our family, and I’m excited for this new show I’m working on. The producer even approved me to work from home so I can be around for E. I just have to attend the weekly team meetings at the office. Reeve is shooting in Georgia for the next couple of months. He leaves five days after the Oscars.”
Reeve’s career has been full steam ahead since the Rydeville Elite series, and he’s one of Hollywood’s most in-demand and highest-paid stars. The beauty of that is he can pick and choose his roles, and he only commits to two or three projects a year so he can be at home as much as possible. He tries to pick films that pique his curiosity and satisfy his artistic passion and roles that aren’t too far from home. Of course, it doesn’t always pan out like that, but we make it work.
Reeve has never broken his promise to always put me first, and we decide everything as a team now, always prioritizing our love and our son. Rather than taking the job I was offered with a leading production company, I set myself up as a freelance writer as it gives me more flexibility. I have been working a lot with Netflix on original content and adaptations, and I’ve also been writing some books in my spare time. I’m not sure if I’ll ever publish them, but they feed my creative soul.
“Speaking of.” Audrey kicks her feet up on the table in front of her. “I read an interesting article about this year’s Oscar ceremony. Is it true Collateral Damage is performing on that night?”
“Why do you think I’ve been blowing up your cell all week.” Anxiety skates across my chest, like it does anytime I think about the impending shitshow. “They’re nominated for best original song.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay out of their way. The Dolby Theatre is large enough I should be able to avoid him and the other band members. There are tons of industry after-parties, so the chances of us being at the same ones are slim.” Reeve has been nominated for best actor, so it’s not like I can’t be there, especially when he’s the favorite to win.
“What if he comes looking for you?”
I pick at imaginary dirt under my nails. “He won’t come looking for me. He never has. Why would he now?”
“Maybe you should tell Reeve Dillon is the Irish guy. Just in case you cross paths and Dillon says something.”
Reeve knows what went down with Dillon. He asked me a few weeks after I got home, and I told him the important parts without going into intimate details. Reeve never asked his name, and I never volunteered it.
“I’m not going to just bring it up after all this time, Rey! Can you imagine that conversation? Oh, hey, darling. Remember I told you I was in love with the guy I met in Ireland? I neglected to tell you it’s Dillon O’Donoghue, lead singer and songwriter of mega-bestselling Irish rock band Collateral Damage. “Terrify Me,” the first of their songs to reach number one on the billboard Top 100, was actually written for me and about me, and I have a video on my cell of him serenading me with it at his brother’s wedding. I’m also pretty sure “Hollywood Ho” and “Fuck Love” were about me too, but who the hell knows why Dillon wrote such vitriol when he’s the one who rejected me.”
Audrey is the only one who knows about the letter I sent and how I sat in Dublin Airport for hours crying and praying to every deity known to mankind that he would show up. My heart aches, and acid crawls up my throat. “Ugh.” I rest my head on my desk. “I can’t believe it still hurts so much after all this time.”
“You still love him even now?” she softly asks.
“You know I do,” I whisper. “I’ve tried to evict him so many times from my head and my heart, but it never works. I guess I’m destined to love him forever.” I rub my temples. “Gawd, I’m a terrible person, Audrey. A terrible wife to still pine after another man.”
“You can’t help how you feel, and I know you love Reeve fiercely. You’re not a terrible wife. You’re a great wife, and he adores you. You two have been written in the stars since inception.”
I’m not sure she’d say that if she knew I have all the band’s songs on my phone and I listen to them repeatedly. I try to avoid watching them on TV because I’m not sure I could disguise the pain and longing on my face from my husband.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I go out to our sunroom, lie down on the couch, close my eyes, and cry as I listen to Dillon’s husky voice roll over me like one of his possessive caresses. Other times, I go through the photos and videos I have hidden on my phone from my time in Ireland, just because I need to see his face.
It’s not healthy.
I know that.
And I feel so disloyal to Reeve, but this soul-deep ache in my chest never goes away, no matter how happy Reeve makes me.
And Reeve does make me happy.