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“Got nine holes left for me to smoke you,” Woods called out when I didn’t make a move to return.

Bethy turned around and headed back to the cart. She did good things for the shirt she was wearing, too. Shit. I was getting nowhere with getting over her.

“I have some guys on seven and three I need to serve,” she said, climbing up into the cart.

“You’re OK today, then?” I needed some kind of reassurance that she wasn’t about to jump off a cliff. She had too much already haunting her; she didn’t need something new fucking her up.

She smiled, and it was a real smile. Not one of those forced ones I had seen enough of lately. “I’m good. I’m actually better than I’ve been in a very long time.” And then she drove off.

She was better than she’d been in a long time. And I was living in my own personal hell. The one where I got to watch Bethy move on with life without me in it. What would I do when she started dating again? If she got into a serious relationship? This was bad enough.

Bethy

I was as prepared as I could be for this. Della had made sure I knew Tripp was bringing London to the barbecue and that they had been seeing each other. That was fine. I was going to be fine. I could deal with this. Aunt Darla was right—he would have left me again for someone like London eventually. He told me he loved me and within three months was dating someone else. If he’d been sleeping around, having one-night stands, I would have handled it better. But seeing the same girl, the one he was in a relationship with in high school, proved Aunt Darla’s point. He wasn’t in love with me. If he was, he wouldn’t be moving on so fast.

I locked the door to my car and stuck my keys into my purse before heading for the Kerringtons’ house. I could smell the barbecue in the breeze. This evening would be fun. My friends were here. And I was a new person.

Della opened the door almost immediately after I rang the bell. She was glowing and more beautiful than normal. When she hugged me, I was a little surprised, but I returned her embrace.

“He’s here. Outside with the guys. She’s glued to his side. Come into the kitchen with us girls,” she whispered in my ear.

I felt bad that my friends thought they had to protect me from Tripp and his date. I had been handled as fragile for too long now. No more. I didn’t need their worry or pity. “I’m good. Heck, I’ll go have drinks with them outside to prove my point,” I said good-naturedly.

Della studied my face a moment and apparently believed me, because she seemed relieved. “Good. Blaire’s mixing margaritas. Let’s go gossip. Give me your purse, and I’ll stick it in the hall closet,” she said, holding out her hand.

I gave her my purse and let her put it away while I made my way to the kitchen. Blaire was standing with an apron on over her shorts and blouse, with limes in her hands, which she was squeezing into the blender. Her eyes met mine as I walked into the room, and she grinned. “Good to see your face,” she said.

“Ditto,” I replied, and took the seat across from her at the bar.

“Harlow just went to get Lila Kate from her stingy daddy. I’m trying to hurry up so I can hold her.”

I rarely got to hold Lila Kate. I smirked at Blaire. “Take your time. I can hold her until you’re done.”

“OK, I got her!” Harlow announced as she walked into the kitchen. “If you want to hold her, you’d better act fast. I’m not sure how long Grant will stay outside before coming in here to hover.”

I jumped up and went to take her from Harlow. “Me first,” I said as Harlow handed her to me.

“She’s not a fan of lying back. She thinks you’re trying to make her go to sleep, so she fusses. She likes to see things.”

Even at six months old, she was still tiny. Her eyes were huge and looked so much like her mother’s. But she had her daddy’s eyelashes and dimple. “Look at how big you are,” I said, sitting down with her in my lap. She reached for my hair and grabbed a handful, but she didn’t tug on it. She just wanted to feel it.

Her eyes studied my face, and I realized there was no dark twist in my gut. Nothing heavy weighing on me. As much as I loved Nate and Lila Kate, every time I had held them or even been around them before, I’d felt a heaviness on my heart. I’d never wanted to accept it, but I knew why it was there.

But now I was free of that. I could watch her little expressions without sadness or guilt. She let go of my hair and patted my neck. Grant’s laughter carried through the windows, and she started straining to see over my shoulder.

“You hear your—”

“Don’t say the D word. She’ll realize he’s not around and start fussing,” Harlow warned from her spot at the bar.

That was too cute.

“Enjoy it. I’m almost done, and then she’s mine. I have a rambunctious toddler who would rather fist-bump me than hug me, so I need to hold something small and sweet,” Blaire said before she turned on the blender.

Lila Kate jumped at the noise and swung her little head around to see what was going on. Her hand squeezed my arm, and she laid her head over my chest. I wanted this. I could admit that now. I wanted a baby. I wanted to be a mom one day. The fact that I could even think about it without having guilt eat me alive was so freeing I almost burst into tears right there in the kitchen.

I ducked my head and blinked away the tears quickly. Maybe one day, I would explain the past to my friends, but I wasn’t ready yet. I hadn’t even told Tripp. I had almost expected him to call me and ask me about it after I’d talked to him at the golf course. But he’d either forgotten or gotten too busy.

The blender stopped, and luckily, my eyes dried up. I kissed Lila Kate’s face and inhaled her baby smell right before Blaire came over with her hands out and a big goofy grin on her face, saying, “My turn.”

I handed her over just as Grant’s laughter came through the window again. This time, Lila Kate started trying to twist around to find him. Her lips stuck out, and she scrunched her nose like she was about to cry.

“Oh, no you don’t. We don’t need him. Come on, let’s go explore,” Blaire told her as she walked off with Lila Kate in her arms.

Harlow filled two margarita glasses and brought me one. “You want one, Della?” she asked.

Della was washing fruit and putting it into a large bowl. “No, I’m good right now. Thanks,” she said.

Harlow bit back a grin and sat down beside me. “You look good,” she said.


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