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It was the night he first kissed me.
I didn’t have one I was ready to give to him, but he did.
He wanted me to say it first, but I didn’t. I was too scared to ruin the friendship we had.
He wasn’t.
I want to kiss you.
That’s what started it, and from then on, any time either of us knew the other one had something to say, we’d ask the question. Sometimes one of us would say it when we had something to confess, too—like the time I told him I was ready.
The reminder causes my chuckle to turn serious pretty quickly. “A lot of time has passed, Lincoln,” I say quietly. “I probably have quite a few.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “So do I.” He’s quiet as he chews a few more bites of pizza. “What’s it like having a kid?”
“Starting with the big guns.” I’m quiet a beat as I contemplate how to answer. “It’s both the best and hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“In what ways?”
“It’s amazing to watch this little person who is a literal part of you grow and turn from a baby into a kid into a little person with his own personality. But it’s also all-consuming. I love him in a way I didn’t know existed. He brings me more joy than I’ve ever felt before. But there are days when I’ve got nothing left to give. There are days when I feel like I’m either mom or journalist and there’s no Jolene left.” I shrug. “Then I look into the eyes that are an exact replica of my own, and this overwhelming feeling of love just washes over me. But other times, I feel guilty because I’m pawning him off on my parents or my friend while I’m trying to advance my career. It’s just…hard.”
“You’re not pawning him off,” he says softly. “That must be really difficult.”
“It’s impossible. And the worst is when he goes to his dad’s.” I roll my eyes.
“Tell me about his dad.”
“I’d rather not,” I mutter. But when I glance over at him and see the earnestness in his eyes, I get the sense he truly wants to know more. He truly cares.
I clear my throat. “We were engaged. I got pregnant. He cheated.” I shrug. “End of story. Now he’s married to the girl he cheated on me with, and they have two little girls. They’re where he spends his time, and he doesn’t give his first child the same attention.”
He wrinkles his nose. “What a douchebag.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I agree.
“Then tell me.”
I shake my head. “You first. Confession.”
“What do you want to know? I’m an open book.”
I snort at that as I grab a second piece of pizza. “Okay. Why’d you quit playing?”
“And you thought I went for the big guns,” he mutters.
I shrug. “This was your idea. Total honesty. Go.”
“I plead the fifth.” He takes a bite of his slice.
“I don’t think so, pal. Confess.”
“Am I speaking with JoLo, the girl who once held my heart in her hands? Or is this Jolene Bailey, team correspondent?”
I clear my throat as my cheeks flush. “Anything we say when I’m not wearing underwear stays between us.”
He laughs, but it fades quickly. He gets up and pours us both more whiskey, and he hands me mine before he answers. He doesn’t sit. “Not even your friend can know.”
“She’s a nurse. She’s the one who told me that you could’ve recovered.”
