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“Yes,” Seth says sharply, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “I need to know you won’t do it again.”
I make a face. Yeah. That is going to be a hard one, given my publisher just signed me for a sequel, which kinda involves Seth, unless I kill him off. I could do that. I rub the back of my head, my gaze falling to the floor as Seth’s gaze darkens.
“Well,” I start, “you see, my publisher wants me to write a sequel.”
Seth groans.
“And I really want to do it. The money is good, and we need it, especially now. I doubt this hospital bill is going to be cheap, and diapers are going to cost us at least half as much if not more.”
Seth rolls his eyes. “It’s not about the money. It’s about you. You want to do it. Don’t blame it on Maria.”
“Fine,” I huff. “I want to do it. This is everything I’ve always wanted. It’s my dream.”
I watch Seth pace back and forth. He runs his hands vigorously through his hair. If he doesn’t quit that habit soon, I’m sure he’s going to be bald by the time he hits thirty.
“And, you know what,” I say while stepping in front of Seth, halting his pacing. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I should have told you about what I was writing. We should have discussed it, at least so you would have known what I was putting out there about us.”
“Would it have stopped you?”
“No,” I say without needing to think about it. “I don’t think anything would have stopped me. You do know that what we are doing isn’t shameful. It’s love. And what’s so wrong about that?”
“Nothing,” Seth says grudgingly.
“And if it makes you feel any better, I won’t write about you and Alex in the next one.”
Seth’s eyes widen and for a moment I really think he’s going to clock me right in the face. His hands fist and he stalks toward me, somehow growing in size despite being shorter than me.
“You better fucking not,” he whispered harshly. “I want no more of my personal life out there for people to read about.”
I chuckle and follow him down the hall. “So, should I have you killed off?”
“Yes!” Seth shouts. “Preferably killed by having too much sex, or the best orgasm of my life. Whichever one sells more copies!”
I burst into a fit of laughter, unable to stop myself as I imagine what that would entail. My laughter dies down when we stop in front of a window displaying a room with at least ten babies resting in their mini hospital beds. I feel stupid as I search through the scrunched faces, wondering which one looks the most like Rachel. They all kinda look the same, and the blue and pink blankets do nothing to help me.
“Maria is this one,” Seth says gently as he points to a baby wrapped in pink resting right in front of us.
I stare into that sleeping little face, feeling tears welling in my eyes. I press a hand against the window and whisper a soft, “Hi.” Maria, of course, can’t hear me, but she looks so beautiful and perfect, just like her mother. I stare in front of that window for what seems to feel like hours, knowing deep inside me that nothing will ever be the same again.
And that’s quite fine with me.
