The Friends We Keep

“There’s something,” she said lightly. “Tell me.”


He leaned back in the crappy chair. “This client, Mrs. Turner. She’s older. Rich. When I first worked with her, everything was fine, but lately she’s always calling and complaining about her car.”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, that’s the thing. It’s working perfectly. We’ve checked it out a dozen times. She’s hearing noises or says it hesitates when she presses on the accelerator. No matter what I do, it’s not enough.”

“Do you know why things have changed with her?”

“Her husband died,” he admitted. “He’d been sick for a while, so I’d been dealing with her since taking the job.” He shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say. That this is because he’s gone, but she knew it was going to happen. Besides, she barely knows me. Why isn’t she torturing her kids?”

“She probably is. Or maybe she can’t. You’re a safe target. She’s scared, Rob.”

“Of what? She’s loaded. Trust me, she’ll be well taken care of for the rest of her life.”

Hayley thought about her empty days. How she would stand in the middle of what was supposed to be the nursery and wait for the tears. Only there weren’t any. She could cry in any number of places, but not in the baby’s room. Maybe the space was too sacred for her foolish tears—she wasn’t sure.

“Just because you know something’s going to happen doesn’t make it any easier to deal with,” she murmured. “Before, she was his wife and now she’s not. She’s a widow. If he was sick, her days were probably filled with taking care of him. Even if they had help. Now she has nothing. No one’s depending on her. It’s hard to feel useless.”

He turned to her. “You’re not useless.”

“I feel that way.”

“Because you can’t have a baby?”

A blunt question, she thought, surprised he would risk going there. “Sometimes. I wasted all that time and money and we have nothing to show for it.”

Tears burned, but she blinked them away.

He moved quickly, putting his glass on the small table between them, then kneeling in front of her on the grass.

“Hayley, no.” He rested his forearms on either side of her thighs and stared up into her eyes. “There’s no waste. We tried. We did everything we could and it didn’t work out for us. We’ll figure out another way. Don’t give up.”

“We’re not going to have a baby, Rob. We are never going to hold our child in our arms. Do you know what that means to me? How much it hurts every second of every day?”

“No. I have no idea.” He took her hands in his. “Did I want kids? Sure. But they were always an idea. You’re here and real and I’m sorry about what happened, but I’m grateful every second of every day that you’re alive and we’re together.”

He squeezed her fingers. “I’d rather have you than a baby, Hayley. I love you. I want us to get through this.”

“I don’t know if we can. You left me.”

“I know.”

She pulled her hands free of his. “That’s it? You’re not going to apologize.”

She thought he might get up and walk away, but he stayed where he was.

“No, I’m not. Maybe I was wrong to leave, but you were wrong, too. You were making decisions without talking to me. You lied about wanting to fix up the house.”

She started to protest, but he held up his hand. “Not that you wanted to, but why you did. You knew what I was thinking and you let me. You tricked me, Hayley.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m not so blinded by love that I can’t see your flaws.”

“Too bad.”

“We’ll both survive.” He bumped her thigh with his elbow until she met his gaze again. “I’m sorry I left. I had no idea how to deal with what you were doing. I didn’t want you to die and I felt you were beyond reason.”

“I was.” The confession came out as a whisper.

“But you weren’t wrong?”

His voice was so gentle. She knew what he wanted—her to admit she’d gone too far. This wasn’t about blame—it was about taking responsibility. He wanted to know that he could trust her in the future.

“Don’t worry,” she said bluntly. “I can’t do anything crazy anymore. I can’t have kids. That’s over.”

“Giving birth to a baby is over,” he corrected. “The having kids thing is still a possibility.”

“I don’t want to adopt.”

“I know. But there are other options.”

She wished that were true. It wasn’t, but Rob had always been an optimist. It was one of the things she liked most about him.

He rested his head on her lap. “I love you, Hayley.”