Page 85 of In The Game

We order wine and a margherita pizza.

“To second chances.” She holds out her glass, and I clink mine to it.

“Second chances.”

She takes a sip of her wine and nods as she swallows, her gaze wanders around the restaurant. “Have you been here before?”

“We’ve had team lunches here a few times. They’re good about privacy. Which I wanted tonight.”

“Uh-oh. Does that mean you’re going to be grilling me with questions?” She grins.

That’s the lighthearted Raleigh I remember. Her eyes drop to my mouth, and the relaxed smile on my face grows serious. I figured we would have a little more small talk before getting into the heavy stuff, but it seems we’ve arrived at that destination sooner than expected.

“Can I ask you about Arthur’s birth?”

Her shoulders slump, and she tilts her head. “Right now?”

“Please.”

“I want tonight to be fun. I don’t get to do this often.”

I shake my head. “I promise, we can still have fun, but I also don’t get to do this often. This is my chance to ask when it’s just us. I can’t pass up the opportunity.”

She takes a drink and sets the glass down. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

I saw the scar on her belly. “You had a c-section…”

My knowledge on the birthing process is minimal, but I know that most women usually don’t opt for a c-section on their first baby.I think.So either something went wrong or—

“Is there a question?”

“Was that something you planned on or were there complications?”

She nods. “My labor didn’t progress. He was late, two weeks past my due date, so I was induced. The induction was useless, my body wouldn’t cooperate, I had all the contractions but wasn’t dilating, well, not fast enough. The epidural didn’t work, and after twenty hours of nonstop pain, I tapped out.”

The look on her face is stern. Is this why she didn’t want to talk about it because it’s a difficult memory?Fuck.Thinking about her being put through so much when I wasn’t there hurts me in ways she’ll never know. I keep my poker face, this is about her, not me. I take a drink and do my best attempt at sounding neutral. “Who was with you when he was born?”

“Heather.” She looks down and a small smile pulls up in the corner of her mouth like she’s remembering more joyful parts of that day. Her fingers twirl the stem of the wine glass.

“Who’s Heather?” I haven’t heard her mention any friends by that name.

“My nurse.”

Looking down, I place my hands under the table, balling them into fists. There must have been somebody else.There has to be.My throat thickens thinking about her going through this alone.

“Who else? Where was your mom?” I don’t mean to sound demanding, but what the fuck…

“She didn’t want to come. She knew I was pregnant. I called her when I found out, but—look, you have to understand something about my mom, she’s not very… maternal. It would have been worse if she was there. Trust me, it was better this way.”

I want to ask her why she didn’t have a friend with her, but I don’t want to press her and make her feel more alone than she did that day.

“Do you have any pictures?” My voice cracks with emotion, but I clear my throat to cover it.

She smiles. “Yeah. Heather took a short video of him being born, well, being pulled out of the sunroof.” She giggles. “Would you want to see it sometime?”

“Can I see it now?” Fucksometime.

She wrinkles her nose and tilts her head away from me. “I don’t think you want to watch it now. We’re about to eat.”

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