Page 45 of Waiting on You

“Oh, yeah, I can tell you’re just jumping for joy.” Her brows pinch together. “Wait, is that why you were crying? Did he say something? Do something? I’ll murder him in his sleep.”

“Easy there, killer.” I chuckle. “I wasn’t crying. I was tearing up because he had pickles and ice cream delivered with a note, and it made me emotional.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet. So, I’m assuming that means he knows about the baby?”

“He does. I told him after our meeting, and then we went to dinner to talk.”

“Okay…and?”

“And he’s excited. He’s always wanted to be a dad…”

“But…” she prompts because she knows me too well.

“He lives in Dallas.”

“Oh.” She deflates.

“Yeah,” I agree. “He says we have time to figure it out, but I don’t know how that’s possible when he runs an entire company four hours away from where I live and work. And even if we take ourselves out of the equation, what will that mean for our baby?”

Tears of frustration fill my eyes, and Ana rounds the desk to pull me into her arms. I stand, and we hug for several minutes while I get it out.

Once I’m calm, she says, “Don’t stress about this, Paige. I know it’s easier said than done, but things have a way of working themselves out. I know that firsthand.”

I sniffle back a sob and nod. “I know. It’s justso hard. Spending time with him last night felt so natural. It was like we picked up right where we’d left off in London. Only there’s this giant elephant in the room.”

“How did you guys leave things?”

“He asked me to dinner again and then had my favorite ice cream and pickles delivered to me this morning.”

“That’s so sweet.” Ana swoons. “Just like in a romance book. Speaking of which, we need to figure out when we’re having our book club meeting.” She pouts. “We haven’t rescheduled it since you and Kira found out you were pregnant.”

“Yes, that’s definitely at the top of my priority list,” I joke.

“It should be. Reading is the ultimate escape.”

“Yeah, well, right now, I need to deal with my reality.”

We talk a little longer about Nate and then move on to how her little ones are doing, which leads to her inviting me over for a barbecue this weekend.

“You should invite Nate,” she suggests. “It will give us a chance to get to know him. Regardless of what you guys decide, he’s your baby daddy.”

“Will you stop calling him that?” I laugh. “You make it sound so scandalous. But we’ll see. I don’t know what his plans are. He says he’s staying in a hotel for the next few weeks, but I don’t know if he’s planning to fly back home.”

“Okay, well, it’s an open invitation,” Ana says,standing. “And you’d better update me on your date tonight. I’ll be in my office tomorrow morning with breakfast and coffee.”

With a wink, she strolls out.

I pull my phone out and type in Nate’s name—as I input it yesterday, when he asked to exchange info. Then, I type out a message.

Thank you for the ice cream and pickles.

Within seconds, he texts back.

You’re welcome. See you tonight.

The thought of dressing up and going out to dinner after working all day sounds exhausting, so I send him back a text, ignoring how intimate it sounds.

I was thinking we could order in tonight instead of going out.

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