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“Lucas. Courtney.” Eva’s friend Heather cuts off Lucas’s words.

I want to scream at her to go away. Then I want to find a scientist, a witch, or a warlock to turn back time so I can rewind a few moments and hear what Lucas was going to say to me before she opened her big mouth and ruined the moment.

“Heather,” Lucas growls.

I move to his side, then elbow him in the ribs.

“You do know this is a party for kids, right?” he asks her.

My eyes widen when I realize what he means. Heather is dressed for a night out on the town, not a birthday party for seven-year-olds. Then again, Eva is dressed almost the same way. Both of them are wearing skintight dresses, high heels, and way too much makeup.

“I know,” she laughs. “Me and Eva have dinner plans after this, so we came dressed for that.” She waves off his comment, then looks around the room. “Is Levi going to be here today?”

I wonder why she’s asking about Levi.

“No. He’s not coming. Even if he were, he’d walk out if he saw you here.”

“Why? We used to be friends. I still care about him.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know he’s happy—and his wife is pregnant. They are over-the-moon excited to become parents.”

“Oh.” She licks her lips. “Good for him.”

“Yeah. Good for him,” Lucas agrees.

“Well”—she looks around—“Madeline looks happy. It’s cool you threw this party for her.” With that, she walks off.

I look up at Lucas. “She dated Levi,” he says.

“Oh . . . ,” is all I can say, even though I can’t picture Levi with her, not after seeing him with Fawn. “Is Fawn really pregnant?”

“Yeah, but they aren’t telling anyone yet.”

A pain I haven’t felt in a while fills my chest. It’s so odd being happy for someone while feeling totally devastated at the same time. For years I’ve gotten this feeling anytime someone I knew became pregnant.

“I’m happy for them.”

“Me too, baby.” He smiles, then his eyes turn questioning. “How many kids do you want?”

My chest gets tight, and my stomach drops at his question. “I . . .”

“I’d like a couple more. Or at least one more—a boy.”

Oh god.

A vision of a tiny baby boy who looks like Lucas fills my mind. My chest gets even tighter, and bile crawls up the back of my throat.

“What about you? How many kids do you want?”

“I . . .” I look past him for an escape, feeling the floor under me shaking. Or maybe it’s my legs shaking. I don’t know.

“Who’s ready to make some pizzas?” Libby shouts, pushing a metal cart into the room.

Relief floods through my veins. “I should help her,” I say, not looking at Lucas. I can’t look at him. I don’t know why I haven’t told him yet that I’m broken. That with me, he could never have more kids. I have been so filled with the family he’s given to me in Maddi that I almost forgot.

But how could I forget?

“She’s okay, baby. She does this every weekend,” Lucas says, wrapping my hand around my hip to keep me hostage.

“Right,” I agree quietly.

His lips touch the side of my head. Then, for the rest of the party and the rest of the night, I pretend that everything will be okay.

Even though I know it won’t be.

Chapter 15

ALL I NEED

LUCAS

“I think I should go home.”

At Courtney’s statement, my eyes meet hers. I noticed yesterday as the birthday party carried on that she seemed a little off. I figured she was just annoyed with Eva and the shit she had pulled. When we got home from the party, we didn’t talk about it because Maddi had two friends sleeping over. We also didn’t talk about it when we went to bed, because two seconds after Courtney’s head hit the pillow she was out. We haven’t had a chance to talk today since we spent the morning with three girls who couldn’t seem to stop talking. This is the first quiet moment we’ve had alone, and that’s because Fawn and Levi took all three girls to see a movie.

“Pardon?” I lean against the counter and study her.

“I . . . Well, I haven’t been home in a week. I think I should go home and check on things,” she says as she cleans up the dishes in the sink that are left over from the pancake breakfast she made for Maddi and her friends.

“We can swing by your place tomorrow evening before we go to dinner.”

“I . . . I think you should have some time alone with Maddi,” she states, not looking at me.

What the fuck?

“Why?” I attempt to keep the growl out of my voice, but know I fail when I see her flinch at my question.

“I’ve been around every day for almost a month. I think it would be good for Maddi to just have time with you,” she says, not meeting my eye.

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