Page 4 of What We Broke

“I love you so much,” I choke out. “So, so much.”

I feel Jesse sidle up behind me. His front presses to my back, his arms around my waist, his head looking down at her over my shoulder.

“She’s beautiful.” His voice trembles as he asks, “Same name?”

I nod.

“Hey, Lola girl,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.”

The pain in his voice is unmissable.

Keeping my hold on her, I turn in his arms so she’s resting between us. We both look down at her, the center of our world.

“She looks so peaceful,” I tell him. “Here, hold her.”

Careful not to jostle her, I place her in his waiting arms.

“She couldn’t be more perfect.”

He kisses her head and her cheek before glancing over his shoulder. And that’s when I finally remember Zara.

My eyes follow Jesse as he walks our daughter over to Zara, and I’m no longer looking at Zara, my friend. Zara, our biggest supporter. Zara, who gave up so much of her own life to make our dreams come true.

No. As I watch Jesse hand Lola to Zara and sit beside her, comforting her, my brain doesn’t remember that Zara.

My brain remembers Jesse’s best friend, Zara. The mother of Jesse’s first daughter, Zara. Our egg donor, Zara. Our surrogate, Zara.

My brain insists on remembering Zara, the woman my husband should’ve married.

The woman who could live a whole, fulfilling life with Jesse, better than I ever can.

CHAPTERONE

jesse

ONE YEAR LATER

For the millionth time tonight,I turn from my stomach to my back and reach out to the empty space beside me. I roll myself over tohisside and bury my face inhispillow.

Inhaling, my senses search for his scent, my chest deflating and aching at just how little of it is left. A reminder that the distance between us widens as the smells of soap and sex and sleep are nowhere to be found.

“Dad?” The sound of my teenage daughter’s voice at my bedroom door startles me.

“Yeah?” Throwing the blankets off in a hurry, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach for my sweatpants. Frantically, I dart my eyes around the hard surfaces of my room, searching for my cell phone. “Why are you awake? What’s the time?”

When I open the bedroom door, Raine stretches her arm out and hands me my cell. “You left it charging in the kitchen.” I grab it off her and she adds, “There’s a message you should read.”

Frowning down at the screen, I see a text I wish Raine hadn’t.

Gio: I know today was hard. He asked me to pick him up again, but I’m not going. It needs to be you.

Raising my head, I meet my daughter’s gaze. “Did you read this?”

Offering me a sad smile, she nods.

“Are you going to be okay alone?” I ask her.

“I could come with you.”