Page 8 of Resorting to Romance

Brad. Noah’s dad, aka, my ex. Not really Noah’sdad, if by dad you mean someone who raises a child as a parent. But Brad is definitely the man who got me pregnant. We don’t talk. We haven’t talked since I was pregnant.

Brad and I married after college. High school sweethearts. We grew up here together. He and I had dreams. Those dreams never included children. And I thought I was okay with that. Until the day I found out I was pregnant. We had done all the things to make sure we wouldn’t conceive, but Noah had other plans. He’s too full of life not to be born into this world. He’s a gift—one I didn’t know I needed or wanted until that day. When I took that test and saw the plus sign staring back at me, my heart swelled with unexpected joy.

Naively, I assumed Brad would have the same change of heart. Maybe we had been selfish or unaware. We hadn’t realized how awesome being parents could actually be. Things change. Plans change. We could change with this new information—this beautiful news. Up until I peed on that stick, the idea of kids was just that—an idea. But that morning, it became my reality. And I figured the reality would be something that would inspire us to pivot.

Only, Brad didn’t react the way I had hoped. He was angry, asking if I had sabotaged our plans in secret. He accused me of skipping a pill. We tried to work through his initial reaction, which was beyond surprising to me. But his stance never changed.I never wanted children, Mila. I still don’t.I can still hear his voice, see his face, the day he made that final declaration along with the announcement that he was filing for divorce and moving to the mainland to start a business—without me.

And just like that, I was a single mom who had recently inherited an island property she was converting to an inn. But I’venever truly been alone. My aunts and Chloe and other people on Marbella have been alongside me from that day forward.

“Why would Brad branching into watersports equipment be of any concern to me?”

My voice is hushed. Noah is home. We never speak of his dad. I’ve regularly told him that he has a dad. I tell him his dad left because he was not the kind of man who knew how to keep his promises. I make sure Noah knows it had nothing—absolutely nothing—to do with Noah. But really, that conversation only comes up on occasion, because Noah has a full life with extended family and a sweet network of support, and Brad is not interested in being a part of it.

Noah knows in a general way that his dad left to choose a life for himself, but he doesn’t know—nor will he ever—that his dad left because he didn’t want him. That’s Brad’s loss. And I’ll never let it be Noah’s.

“Wellllll …” Chloe’s hand is still on my shoulder. “The rumor—and, again, it’s just a rumor—is that Brad’s coming here. Opening a watersports rental and resale on Marbella.”

“Here?”

“It’s just a rumor, dear,” Connie says.

“Definitely. Most likely hearsay,” Joan echoes.

“Agreed. Speculative at best,” Connie adds.

And with each confirmation of improbability, I’m less convinced.

I don’t know if I’m breathing.

Phyllis scoots one of the barstools over and I plop onto it. Numb. That’s what I am. I can’t feel my feet, my hands, my head. I’m a swirly mess of confusion. I’m floating over the room, looking down on this scene as if I’m being suspended over my own body.

Is this right? It can’t be. Why would Brad come back to Marbella? Noah’s here. I’m here. Brad doesn’t want Noah. Why would he pick the one place he’s bound to run into the son he disowned and the wife he abandoned? There are plenty of placesalong the coast where he can build that aspect of his business and flourish.

“Probably just a rumor!” Joan repeats overly enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes! Agreed. You know how people are,” Connie adds emphatically. “They hear one thing and then they add a little when they pass it on. Or they get confused. It’s probably nothing. Or just a mix-up.”

I expect Phyllis to say something equally dismissive and comforting, but she doesn’t. She just stares at me.

“What do you think?” I ask her.

“I think it’s never wise to go building houses in the clouds. We don’t know what’s happening. And we weresupposedto find out the facts before we came to you.” She glares lovingly at her sisters. The look she gives is still pretty intimidating, but there’s no bite to her. “But we botched that royally. So now, we need to find out what’s really going on. And you don’t need to borrow trouble from tomorrow. Just serve your guests. Take care of Noah, and forget all about all of this. It may be hearsay. And if it isn’t, who’s to say you’ll even see him if he builds a business here? He may not even come to the island. He may have someone else run it for him. The world is full of possibilities. We don’t need to line them up and stress over each one in turn as if they are already happening.”

I take a deep breath. Phyllis is right.

I’m going to be fine.

I look Chloe in the eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Of course you will. You’re a boss babe. You own a freaking inn. You parent Noah like a champ. You’ll be fine.”

“Like a champ? Really?”

We both burst into much needed laughter.

“Whatever,” Chloe says, still smiling with residual amusement. “I was under pressure. I wasn’t prepared to have to give a spur of the moment pep talk. You’re a great mom. Okay?” She pauses and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And you will be fine. More than fine.”

I smile at mybest friend.

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