Chapter 4: Table Nine

Twelve weeks.

I did the math standing at the host stand with ninety people staring at me.

Twelve weeks ago Neil had told me he was too tired to touch me.

He'd said the restaurant was draining him.

He'd slept on his side of the bed.

Someone at table four whispered, "Oh my God."

Brittany tilted her head.

She was waiting for me to cry.

The phone was back up in her hand, pointed at my face.

I didn't give her anything.

"Congratulations," I said.

Neil blinked.

"That's it?"

"What else do you want? A cake?" I looked at Brittany. "You'll need the money now. Babies are expensive. Good thing he's got my salary to spend."

A man at the bar laughed out loud.

Brittany's smile slipped.

I turned around and walked out the front door.

I didn't run.

I didn't look back.

The cold hit my face.

Randolph Street was full of people in good coats going to dinner.

I made it to the corner before my hands started shaking.

I put them in my pockets.

"Holly."

Ezra Lyons was right behind me, his coat unbuttoned, his breath clouding.

"You didn't finish your dinner," I said.

"It wasn't worth finishing."

He stopped a few feet from me.

He didn't touch me.

He didn't ask if I was okay.

I liked him for that.

"How long have you known?" he said.

"About her? Since yesterday. About the baby? Since just now."

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