Page 55

I laugh despite myself, the wine still buzzing warm in my chest as I slip my shoes back on. “Deal.”

***

Jamie raises her shot glass, eyes sparkling under the neon lights. “To child-free weekends.”

I laugh and clink my glass against hers. “To child-free weekends.”

The bar is loud, country music blasts from the speakers while bodies crowd the dance floor in a swirl of boots, denim, and spinning skirts. The air smells like spilled beer, fried food, and someone’s too-sweet perfume. This is exactly what I needed, somewhere I don’t have to be a mom, I can just be a woman out for the night trying to get so drunk I have to leave my car behind.

The first drink goes down easy, smooth and sharp at once. The second is even easier. By the third, the tight knot between my shoulders finally starts to loosen.

Five minutes later I’m chatting with some guy whose name I immediately forget. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a faded plaid button-down rolled at the sleeves and scuffed boots that say he probably actually works in them. His smile is friendly, the kind that probably works on most women. I just can’t seem to hold onto any details about his face.

“So… you seeing anyone?” he asks, leaning in a little so I can hear him over the music.

“She’s single!” Jamie chips in, suddenly appearing at my elbow and butting her way into the conversation like she owns it.

I shove her back with a laugh before turning an apologetic smile to the guy. “Sorry. She has no filter. I am single, but I’m not really dating right now.”

He nods, unfazed. “Alright. Well, can I at least get your number? For if you change your mind?”

I almost say no, but it feels rude after he’s bought both Jamie and me two rounds. “Yeah. Sure.”

We trade numbers quickly—his name is apparently Ryan—and then he’s gone, disappearing back into the crowd with a wave.

Jamie immediately whips around to face me. “What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“He was cute!”

I swirl the ice in my glass, watching it clink against the sides. The alcohol has me warm and floaty, words coming a little slower than usual. “So?”

Jamie sighs dramatically, like I’ve personally offended her. “This is about Simon again.”

“Can I just not be ready to date yet?”

“You’ve been single for four years.”

“And I spent one of those years pregnant, then another breastfeeding, and now the last two have been spent starting my career and figuring out co-parenting. Theo isn’t even in Pre-K yet. My body just started to feel like mine again. I’m just not ready to date.”

I’m not lying. Technically. Those are all real reasons. I just leave out the part where every date I’ve managed to go on in the last four years has left me drowning in guilt so thick I can barely breathe.

Jamie thankfully concedes—maybe because another guy has already sidled up to her, all charming smiles and fresh drinks.

While she laughs at something he says, my mind drifts, hazy and heavy with vodka. Four years of my life. I’ve clawed my way back to feeling like a person again, not just Theo’s mom or Simon’s ex. And yet the second I try to move on as my own person—to go out, have hobbies to myself, date—my stomach twists like I’m doing something wrong.

“Earth to Blaire.” Jamie waves a hand in front of my face.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

I look down into my drink, the ice melting into watery rings. “I just miss Theo. I’m having fun, but I feel bad for missing this Halloween thing with him.”

Jamie gives me a sympathetic look, the kind only another mom can manage. “I know. It’s weird, right? We spend all week begging for five minutes alone, then the second we get it we feel guilty for not being at the trunk-or-treat taking pictures of them in their little costumes.”

“I’m gonna call my dad.”