Page 115 of Jilted

“No, I’m going to tell him soon.”

Will nodded. A few minutes later, a couple of early customers wandered in, effectively bringing our conversation to an end. It was just as well, since I didn’t have much more to say. After I finished two slices, I stuck around for another half hour, helping stock behind the bar and getting things ready for the weekend crowd.

Will walked over as I put my jacket on. “You getting out of here?”

“I have a bunch of errands to run. I’ll stop back and do the books tomorrow.”

His eyes shifted to the customers at the other end of the bar. They were too busy yelling at a horse race on one of the TVs to pay us any mind. Though my brother lowered his voice anyway. “I think most of parenting you learn as you go, and most advice people give isn’t worth shit because every situation is different. But there is one important thing I learned that’s worth sharing.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t make someone else happy unless you’re happy yourself. After Anne died, I spent years pretending I was happy for Olivia’s sake. But she knew the truth—kids always do. Once I allowed myself to feel happiness again, I saw a change in my daughter. She was lighter, laughed more. Of course that was before the teen years set in, but I think you get what I’m saying. I hope things work out with Wilder, if that’s what you want. But if they don’t, focus on finding happiness for yourself. The best gift you can give your kid is showing them not to dwell on the things we can’t change and live life to the fullest, even if it’s not the one you planned.”

I kissed my brother’s cheek. “Thanks, Will.”

“Congratulations, Peaty. You’re going to be a great mom.”

Later that night, I climbed into bed exhausted at nine o’clock. I’d spent yet another day rushing around, trying to outrun my thoughts. What I needed was some mindless TV and a good night’s rest. So I flicked on the television and went directly to one of the channels that was always good for reality TV. ExceptSay Yes to the Dresswas on, and the bridal boutique they were in reminded me of the morning Wilder had shown up unexpectedly to help me keep my appointment to sell my old wedding gown.

I sighed and flicked to another channel.Love Islandwas on that one—and the guy currently flirting with a curvy blonde wasBritish. I jabbed my thumb at the remote a third time and a movie flickered on—wherethe woman was pregnant. That was it for my attempt atmindlessrelaxation. I turned the TV off, forcing my eyes shut.

But a few minutes later, my phone buzzed from my nightstand. Wilder’s name flashed on the screen. Just seeing it made my heart beat faster. It had been a few days since his last uninspired text, so I was certain this would just be another four-word letdown—how are you feeling?or whatever. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself for disappointment yet again.

Wilder:Could we talk?

I sat up in bed.Could we talk?It didn’t sound very promising. But at this point, any outcome was better than the unknown. So I texted back.

Sloane:Of course. When?

Wilder:Are you busy now?

Oh God.My stomach rolled. As much as I needed to know where he stood, I was also terrified. I reached for the lamp and switched on the light. We usually FaceTimed, but I considered suggesting acall so he wouldn’t see me get upset. But screw it, I had every right to cry. Served him right. Though I should be prepared with some tissues.

Sloane:No, just give me a minute and I’ll FaceTime you.

He typed back before my feet had even hit the floor.

Wilder:Would it be okay if we talked in person?

My brows furrowed.

Sloane:You’re in New York?

Wilder:I’m downstairs. I came straight from the airport and took a chance you’d be home.

My eyes widened. I jumped to look out my bedroom window. Sure enough, Wilder was standing on the sidewalk. I watched him pace back and forth a few times, emotions twisting a knot inside me.

Two weeks of four-word texts and he just shows up with no advance notice?

Hetook a chanceI’d be home? What else does a pregnant woman do on a Saturday night?

He’s come to tell me in person that he wants nothing to do with us.

Us.

My heart squeezed. I wasn’t ameanymore. I was anus.

I was so busy worrying about a dozen things thatcouldhappen, that I forgot what wasactuallyhappening and didn’t respond right away. Eventually, my phone buzzed again.

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