“Like you?”

“Yeah. My mother used to say she hoped I had a baby that didn’t sleep. Something about payback.”

“Thanks for the invite, but maybe another time. I really do need to get on the road. I just wanted to stop and get a little moral support from a friend who knows me best.”

This time he wrapped his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. “I’ll always have your back.”

Rising, she dusted the gravel and dirt from her bottom. “Thanks.”

“Take care of yourself, Libby.”

“You too. You’re going to make a good father. That’s one of the many reasons I picked you.”

His brow knotted, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You really think so? I feel like I’m messing up. Maybe I should be more patient when he doesn’t sleep or needs a diaper change.”

“Once he starts sleeping through the night, it will all get better. You’ll figure out the dad thing pretty quickly.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

She got in her car, waved goodbye, and drove off. At the first stoplight she removed Jeremy’s profiles from all her social media accounts.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

LIBBY

Saturday, August 1, 2020

Virginia

Libby spent the better part of the summer working out of town. She took jobs as a second shooter, assisting other photographers because she wanted to stay busy and away from Bluestone. She made excuses to Colton about work and life and why she was too busy to see him or return home. However, as her excuses started to run together, the frequency of his communications waned. Colton was trying to keep up with her, but she was the one doing the running.

After several weeks, he stopped texting. Sierra called her daily, calling it her proof-of-life call, and each time Libby promised to be back in town soon. But when the work ran out, she took a week vacation to Paris and indulged in lavish foods and historical walks.

But running took stamina, and as the summer progressed, hers started to wane. By the time she landed in Dulles International Airport, she was not feeling well. She had been sprinting through her days, and her body was simply bone tired.

It was not until she was standing in the crowded customs line waiting for her turn that it dawned on her what really might be happening.

Another hour later, she was in her car and headed south, back to Bluestone. She made a quick stop at the grocery store, buying crackers, sodas, and chocolates—and three pregnancy tests.

She pushed through the front door and dropped her purse on the couch as she kicked off her shoes. She put away her groceries and carried the pregnancy tests to the bathroom. They worked best in the morning, so to try now would likely render a false read.

When she stepped under the shower’s hot spray, she allowed the warm water to pulse on her face and willed it to chase the tension away. It’s the flu. A bug I picked up in Paris.

When she had drained all the hot water from the tank, she reluctantly stepped out, toweled off, and slid on an oversize T-shirt, then opened each kit. She lined them up neatly on the bathroom counter and went downstairs and lay on the couch. The clock on the wall ticked as she turned off her phone and willed her body to relax.

Sometime during the night, she did drift off to sleep, and when she woke with a start, the sun was shining in the room. She jumped up off the couch, hesitated as a wave of nausea washed over her, and bolted up the stairs.

Libby should have saved one of the pregnancy tests and retested tomorrow, but it was too late now. If she needed more, she decided she would make another trip to the pharmacy. She followed their instructions to the letter. Once done, she lined them back up on the bathroom counter, and she went downstairs to the kitchen. She dug out a packet of saltines and a cold can of ginger ale from the refrigerator. It wasn’t lost on her that her one-night stand with Colton had theoretically produced a pregnancy.

The last three times she had been pregnant, she had felt terrific. There had been no morning sickness. She had had energy and a strong appetite.

I have the flu. That’s all.

She had not spoken to Elaine in the last five weeks, but Elaine had begun to email her pictures of Olivia and Woodmont. Libby supposed that was Elaine’s idea of a soft sell.

Sipping the ginger ale, she climbed the steps to the bathroom and stood at the threshold, staring at the three white tests lined up on the counter. “It’s the flu.”

But a glance into the little windows said otherwise. Three bright-pink plus signs stared back at her. She picked each up and held them to the light.

“This is wrong,” she muttered. “They are false positives. I can’t get pregnant,” she said to each stick. “The doctors said it was such a low chance that it was unlikely.”

Immediately, Libby listed off diseases that might mimic pregnancy. Hormonal imbalances. Massive tumors. Or maybe it was cancer like Elaine’s. Her worst-case list was more comforting than the idea of another lost pregnancy.

A hard pounding on her front door wrestled Libby’s attention back to the moment. The pounding grew louder.

She tossed the sticks in the trash can and went downstairs. Sipping her ginger ale, she glanced toward the front door and saw the outline of a man. She crossed to the door and opened it. Colton was standing on her front steps. Talk about timing.

“Colton.” Apologies rushed to the tip of her tongue, but all sounded lame, so she did not bother. “What are you doing here?”

He studied her a long beat, but it was impossible to decide if he looked mad, upset, or relieved. “Elaine tried to call you, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

“Elaine?” She glanced at her phone and saw two missed calls from Elaine. “Why? Is she all right?”

“Lofton has been arrested.”

“Lofton. Why should that have anything to do with me?”

“That’s what I asked Elaine, and she said you would know.”

“How did you even know I was back in town?”

“I saw Sierra at her jobsite this morning. She said your car was back.”

There was no sneaking back into Bluestone. “Does Elaine want me to bail her out?”

“No, Lofton is in the hospital, but she’s headed to jail once the doctors release her. She wrapped her car around a tree. She’s lucky to be alive.”

“And where is Elaine?”

“New York. She’s trying to get a flight back.”

Libby gathered her purse, keys, ginger ale, and a sleeve of saltine crackers from the kitchen. “Great. Can’t pick your family, right?”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll go now.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to. Seriously. I’ve been MIA all summer, and I’m honestly amazed you’re even here now.”

“So am I. And while I drive, you’re going to tell me about your vanishing act over the last five weeks.”

She would have argued if she did not feel like she was going to throw up on his shoes. “Fine. Drive.”

He followed her down the front steps and to his truck. She slid into the passenger seat and hooked her seat belt.

After starting the truck, he pulled onto the quiet street and wasted no time getting to the heart of his irritation. “Where have you been?”