My sister, my lifeline.
TWO
NOW
Camille
Me:Running a little late. I’ll be there ASAP!
Karina:Okay! I just got here. I’ll get us a table.
Karina textedme the day after we met and asked if I could do lunch on Wednesday. She said her husband was leaving town for an overnight work trip, and it just so happened my afternoon schedule was clear for Wednesday, so I agreed. She suggested a new seafood restaurant, and it sounded way too good to pass up. I’m usually not the type of person to engage with strangers, but something about Karina’s sad blue eyes makes me want to be near her.
Ten minutes after texting her, I arrive at the restaurant we agreed on. Upon entering, it takes two seconds to scan the dining floor and find Karina. She’s practically jumping out of her seat as she waves at me.
This woman is a little bizarre, but I like it. It’s refreshing to have a new friend who is so open and knows nothing about me or what I’ve been through the past year.
All she knows about me is that I lost my son, and that’s all I plan to share with her.
There’s no sympathy from Karina, and I appreciate that. I’m tired of everyone acting sympathetic toward me. I’m not the fragile little bomb that everyone thinks I am.
I want to be treated normally. Ineedit. Not handled like I’m made of glass. Even my family walks on eggshells around me.
“Camille, you look beautiful!” Karina says with a bright smile, pulling me in for a hug once I’m within reach. I’d been working in my home office, so there was no need to dress up for the day. I’m wearing a powder-pink silk blouse, tight denim jeans, and red bottom heels.
It’s the perfect lunch attire.
My dark hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, not a hair out of place, and my face contains minimal makeup. For the first time in a long time, I feel as good as I look.
Last night I didn’t have any dreams, and today I feel refreshed and badass. For that, I’m thankful.
“You too, girl!” It’s true; Karina’s a natural beauty. Her oval-shaped face and round, doe eyes are enough to be any man’s wet dream. Her husband is indeed a lucky man.
We take our seats, open our menus, and instantly, she opens her mouth and overshares. “I’m getting salmon. I read that it’s good for fertility, and I should be ovulating this weekend.” She grins, wiggling her brows at me from across the table.
I snort, taken aback from the sudden information I hadn’t asked for. Wow, this girl is open. I’m positive her filter is practically nonexistent.
“Well, good luck to you. When does your husband return from his business trip?” I force a smile, shifting in my seat from being uncomfortable with this topic of conversation. Maybe I'm a bitch, but I'm not interested in hearing about her fertility journey with her husband.
“He’ll be back on Friday. We have an event this weekend, so he’ll be back in just enough time to attend. So! Do you have any tips for me about getting pregnant? Since I’m assuming you had a healthy pregnancy.”
The thought of my pregnancy is painful. It was the best time of my life, but thinking about it reminds me that I’m now childless. The constant ache in my chest intensifies.
Karina must take my silence as a sign that she’s overstepped because she immediately apologizes. “Oh God, I’m so sorry! I should think before I speak. I didn’t mean to pour salt on the wound.” She reaches across the table and grabs my hands, her blue eyes full of sorrow.
“No, no, it’s fine. Yes, I did have a healthy pregnancy. But I don’t have any tips for trying to conceive. When I got pregnant, I was on birth control, and it happened so fast,” I explain, laughing to cover the fact I’m uncomfortable speaking to her about my past. It’s not like I'm going to tell this strange woman that I had an unplanned pregnancy with a guy I barely knew. I smile to myself, remembering how Luca came to be. He was unplanned but so very loved. I pull my hand away from her grip and grab the glass of lemon water in front of me, gulping down half of it to calm my nerves.
My anxiety is high, and I’m desperate for the magic pill that I took on the way over to kick in.
“Do you and your husband plan on having more children?” She sits back in her chair, asking a personal question casually as if it’s any of her business. But I answer her anyway. No fucking idea why.
“No. We had our son, and now we’re done.”
“Aw. Why not? Does he not want more?” God, how much more personal are we going to get? Is her next question going to be how many times a week we have sex? I wouldn’t put it past her.
The more she talks, the more I’m beginning to regret my decision of agreeing to lunch.
“No, I’m the one who doesn’t want more children. One was enough for me. We should order.” My tone is a little snippy, but I can't find it in me to care. I'm done with her questioning. You'd think I was in a fucking interrogation.