Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
The fucked-up thing was that I’d never once wondered about who my daughter’s biological mother might be before the other day, even though I knew she was out there somewhere. I’d thought a lot about that over the last forty-eight hours. Why was I so compelled to know now when I hadn’t been the least bit interested in knowing just a few days ago? The answer was obvious—because it was Sadie. But what was I hoping for with these results?
Did I want Sadie to be Birdie’s biological mother?
Or did I want to go back to not knowing who the egg donor was?
I grappled with those questions the most. Deep down, even though I didn’t want to admit it, I think a part of me wanted Sadie to be Birdie’s mother. My daughter lost her mom at such a tender young age, and I’d give anything so she could have her mother again. But did that anything I’d give include forcing a woman I loved to acknowledge a child she’d never planned to know?
I blinked a few times.
A woman I loved.
Did I love Sadie?
My shoulders slumped, and I let out a heavy sigh of defeat.
Fuck.
I did.
I went and fell in goddamn love with her.
Great. Just great. I betrayed a woman I love.
I was pretty sure I was never going to forgive myself. But that was okay. I deserved to beat myself up over what I’d done . . . and then some. That wasn’t even a question. What was most important now was, would Sadie ever forgive me?
CHAPTER 26
SADIE
Sebastian had been acting odd the last few days.
He was quieter than usual and seemed really distracted. Tonight I’d cooked dinner for him and Birdie at their house, and then the three of us took Marmaduke to the dog park. As usual, Birdie talked nonstop, keeping us entertained with stories from school today. But once she’d gone to bed, it became really noticeable how far away Sebastian’s mind was.
I’d just told him all about an article I was working on for my column, where I’d interview men and women after their first blind date with each other and see how different their answers were to a set group of questions. So often, one person thinks things went great, while the other leaves feeling like the date was a complete bust. I’d rambled on for a solid ten minutes, and my gut told me that Sebastian hadn’t actually heard one word. He was looking right at me, but his eyes weren’t focused. So I decided to test exactly how far his mind had wandered.
“So . . . ,” I said. “We thought it might be fun to ask the post-date questions naked. You know, to keep the article interesting and all.”
I stopped speaking and waited for Sebastian to answer. He blinked a few times, and it seemed like he just figured out it was his turn to speak.
“Oh. That sounds great.”
I frowned. “Yeah, it’s perfect. I won’t sleep with more than two or three of them. So don’t worry.”
He started to nod. “Okay, great . . . Wait . . . what did you just say?”
“Oh, hi, Sebastian. It’s nice of you to join me in this conversation.”
“What are you talking about?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m talking about that you haven’t listened to a word I said in the last half hour. Your mind is obviously elsewhere. What’s going on with you? Is everything okay?”
He looked down. “Yeah. Everything is fine. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
He continued to avoid eye contact. “I . . . uh . . . I still haven’t hired a new manager at the restaurant.”
I knew in my gut he was full of shit. “Look at me.”
His eyes jumped to meet mine.
“What else is going on?” I said. “I feel like it’s something more than just work.”
Sebastian’s eyes shifted while he shook his head. He tried to keep eye contact but couldn’t do it. This man was not a good liar. Ever since he noticed my appendix scar, he’d started acting strange. I didn’t think the timing was a coincidence. I had a feeling that his mood shift had something to do with the conversation we’d had about my eggs. To be honest, ever since we’d talked, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about things, either.
I took his hand. “Is there any chance that what I told you the other day upset you? About my harvesting eggs and donating some?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened, but he again quickly diverted them before shaking his head.
His reaction pretty much confirmed that was it, yet for some reason he still didn’t want to admit it. Last year I’d done a dating article titled Deal Breaker where I interviewed a few hundred single men and women on what things would rule out a potential relationship with someone they otherwise really liked. Both sides listed spiritual beliefs among their deal breakers. I knew Sebastian was Catholic, and the Catholic Church was against IVF, so perhaps that was it. Or maybe the fact that I’d basically given away my eggs to a complete stranger freaked him out a bit.