Page 140 of The Goal

“That’s just it. Before, he was around all the time, but in the past couple weeks, he’s been really busy.”

“Maybe there’s a bunch of builders trying to get projects done before the snow comes,” Carin suggests. “And so everyone’s working double shifts or something.”

“Maybe.” I heave a sigh. “It’s not just that he’s not around as much. He’s distracted and quiet, more so than usual. I feel like he wants to tell me something but is afraid of how I’ll take it.”

“Just come out and tell him you love him,” Hope orders, shaking her fork at me. “Actually, I’m shocked you haven’t slipped up and done it already. Even in texts and stuff.”

“It’s beyond hard,” I admit. “The other day he was reaching for a glass of water and his shirt slipped up and I almost dropped to my knees with lust. And when he’s with Jamie? It becomes nearly impossible. He was sitting on the couch the other night, feeding her. And I started to sayI love youand caught myself, but not before I had the first two words out. I ended up sayingI love your socks.”

“I love your socks?” Carin exclaims.

“It’s beyond ridiculous. I know.”

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

“Because if I tell him, then he’ll feel bound to me. He’s so honorable and so decent, he won’t even look at another woman.”

“Just come out and ask him if he’s seeing anyone. If he says no, then tell him you want him all to yourself,” Carin advises. “If he says yes, at least you know. It’s better to know than to drive yourself nuts wondering.”

“Certainty is best,” Hope agrees.

I give them a tight smile and change the subject by asking Carin more about the hot, bearded TA she’s currently banging. She happily obliges, although all the sex talk reminds me of how little of it I’ve had lately. It was hard to find a position that was comfortable before I had the baby, and now that the six-week ban has been lifted, I’m not sure I want Tucker seeing my body. He’s used to hot, college girls with zero body fat and abs of steel. I’m more like abs of Jell-O at this point.

Our food finally arrives. I dig in, under the pretense that I’m starving, but mostly I’m hiding from my friends because I don’t agree with their advice. Knowing Tucker loves someone else will break me.

I’d rather go my whole life in limbo than have him tell me that he’s fallen in love with a woman who isn’t me.

When I get home,Nana is napping with Jamie, allowing me to get a few hours of studying in before dinner. Ray’s on the sofa, blaring the television, which means I can’t read in the kitchen. I’m getting tired of being shut in my cramped bedroom with the crib, my twin bed, and a thousand and five baby items, but I don’t have much of a choice. Sticking a pair of earplugs in, I manage to read through all of my crim law and torts before I hear the thin wail of my hungry child.

“You home, Sabrina?” Nana calls through the door.

I hop up and greet her. “Yup. Got home a couple hours ago. You two were sleeping.” I reach out and pluck Jamie from her arms. My baby doll whimpers and roots around, mouthing me over my shirt. “I better feed her.”

“You do that. I’m going to run to the store for a few things. We’re almost out of milk and cheese.”

“’Kay.” I start to close the door, but Nana stops me.

“You should get out of there,” she says, peering over my shoulder into the confined space. “You’ll go nuts.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, even though she’s right. The room is feeling smaller every day.

She shrugs, her body language telling me that it’s my funeral.

Before I get the door closed, I hear her yell at Ray. “That TV is too loud, Ray. It’ll hurt the baby’s ears.”

He mumbles something indistinguishable. I’m sure it’s some variation of “fuck the baby.”

Three more years. Three more years and then I’ll land that BigLaw job and get the hell out of this place.

Nana and Ray exchange a few more terse words—her voice is sharp and his is angry. The energy in this house is so damn negative.

I cuddle Jamie closer to me. “We’re going to get out of this place soon.”

She cries, a plaintive, hungry sound. I unbutton my shirt and pull it to the side, bouncing her in my arms as I do. She keeps crying, though.

A moment later, Ray pounds on my door. “Shut that fucking baby up. My game is on.”

I close my eyes and pray for patience. Jamie shouts her annoyance and I look down to discover that the silicon nipple pad is hindering her efforts to feed. I rip it off and throw it on the dresser.

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