Page 35 of Broken Vows

“Yeah.” He steps away, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”

“No, it’s…” I wrap my arms around myself. “It’s not that. Just…”

“Too fast?”

I nod, grateful he understands. “Maybe we could just… take it slow?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. “One day at a time?”

“One day at a time.” I look around at the flour-covered kitchen and can’t help but laugh. “Though maybe we should clean this mess up first.”

“Probably safer than whatever we were just doing.” He grabs paper towels from the counter.

Later, after we’ve cleaned up and salvaged dinner, we sit at the kitchen table like we used to.

When he heads to the couch for the night, his lips brush my cheek–gentle, asking nothing. “Night, Lex.”

“Night,” I whisper back, watching him go.

In bed, I press my hand on my belly. “Your daddy’s going to drive me crazy,” I murmur.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I sit cross-leggedon the floor of Jeremy’s old office, sketchbook open in my lap. The morning light streams through the window, catching dust motes that dance through the air.

I stare at the blank page. I've spent the past twenty minutes trying to come up with a business plan. The words “Freelance Services” stare back at me, underlined twice, followed by nothing.

“Come on, Alexis,” I mutter, tapping the pencil against the paper. “It’s not that hard.”

But it is hard. Every time I try to write down what I could offer–digital design, custom illustrations, brand work–my throat gets tight. What if I’m not good enough? What if I’ve been out of the game too long?

The doorbell startles me from my spiral. I get up to open the door to see Lilly standing on the porch with two takeout bags from our favorite deli and a stack of magazines.

“Thought we could use brain food for nursery planning.” She breezes past me into the house, her perfume lingering in her wake–something new, sharper than her usual scent.

“You’re a lifesaver.” I follow her upstairs to the office. “I’ve been stuck up here all morning trying to work on business ideas.”

“Oh, show me!” She settles onto the floor, pulling out containers of pasta salad.

I hand her my pathetically empty list, watching as she scans it. “Not much to show.”

“Are you kidding? You’re crazy talented, Lex.” She hands the notebook back. “Remember that logo you designed for my sister’s bakery? People still ask about it.”

“That was years ago.” I accept the fork she offers, stabbing at a piece of tortellini.

“So? It’s like riding a bike.” She spreads magazines across the floor between us. “You just need to get back on.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs, holding up a picture of an over-the-top safari-themed room. “Can you imagine? Your poor baby would have nightmares.”

“Jeremy would have a fit. He hates anything too busy.”

“Speaking of Jeremy…” Lilly sets down her fork, something shifting in her expression. “Have you two talked about what kind of father he wants to be?”

The question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs, but there’s something deliberate in the gesture. “Just… you know. He works so much. And with the divorce and everything… is he really ready for this?”

“Of course he is.” But even as I say it, I notice how she’s watching me, head tilted like she’s waiting for something.

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