Page 35 of Unconditionally With Me
“I found her snorting coke in the bathroom.”
“Ugh. No wonder you’re screaming.”
“No, I’m losing it because I went in there to take an early pregnancy test, and now I feel like it’s tainted.”
My heart explodes with happiness. But the first word out of my mouth is “Again?”
She groans in my ear. “I know. This will make four kids under the age of nine.”
My laugh is nothing but evil. “That I get to spoil within an inch of their lives.”
“You know, you could have one—just one.”
“Nice try. Julian and I are perfectly happy just the way we are. For now. But with my starting the new business and him traveling for work?” I shake my head, certain she must be able to hear the rocks bouncing around.
“I know. If you decide to become a mom, you want to be the best one you can be.”
“Exactly.”
“Elle?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I come pee at your office?”
“Is that before or after you hit me up for a dessert order for tomorrow?”
“Screw tomorrow, I’m going to need help all week,” she retorts before hanging up.
I grin before I pull out my phone to text Julian I’m running a bit late.
I immediately get one back.I’ll start dinner. I love you.
Love you moreis my immediate reply.
While I wait for Trina to show up with her usual nine pregnancy tests, I think back to the many changes in our lives since we got back from Seattle—the least of which is where I’m finishing up my paperwork for the evening.
Elle’s Edibles was born of the money from selling the building Rachel left to me. I used it as capital to start my business not too far from the High Line. We have a small storefront in Chelsea Market, but ahh, our baking space is unreal, easily the size of the baking space I used to work in when I was executive dessert chef for Trina. My team of young apprentices puts out hundreds of doughnuts and pastries for the morning crowd, shifting to more refined delicacies and cakes in the afternoon for people to grab and go on the way home.
And of course, we welcome the large orders from local restaurants in the area.
Within the first year, I was having a serious discussion with Julian on whether I should send the seed money back to Erik. Despite everything good that had happened, our small wedding, the bakery, his new column which was getting rave reviews and upping the circulation ofCity Lights, it still didn’t feel right. Julian asked me one simple question. “What would Rachel want you to do?”
So, I pushed out of my husband’s arms with a lingering kiss and walked through our newly remodeled home to write my ex a letter.
In it, I thanked him for being a rotten, selfish prick because it led me down the path of life I needed to be on. I hesitated before including my phone number and email before shrugging. His investigator likely gave it to him anyway.
Imagine my shock when he called four days later. “Elle? It’s Erik. I’ll gladly take every word you said. You know why?”
“Why?” I asked as I signed for a flour order and grin at the delivery guy.
“Because that smile on your face is worth everything.”
I whirled around. And there he was, holding his little girl. “Thankyou, Elle,” he whispered before leaning down to kiss the girl’s forehead.
And turning away.
To this day, I don’t know what made me do it, but I called out, “Did Will ever hear from Trina?”
