Daisy’s eyes grow wide. “She does?”

  I nod. “She does. You and your sister.”

  “We love our aunt Eden,” Daisy tells me.

  Me too, kid, me too.

  I stand and offer Carrie my hand, as well. “Foster Vaughn, nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.” Carrie smiles. “Happy birthday. Thank you for doing this.”

  “It’s no trouble,” I assure her, stepping back and sliding my arm around Eden’s waist. “We didn’t have any plans.” Well, no plans that involved clothes, so technically we were free.

  “I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours, tops.”

  “No rush at all,” Eden tells her. “Anything we need to know?”

  “They just had lunch but will probably beg for snacks. They can have whatever. Screen time is okay while I’m gone, too.” The girls cheer at that. “You two be good for Aunt Eden and Mr. Vaughn,” she tells them.

  “Foster is fine,” I assure them.

  “Nick might make it home before me, but I’m not sure. You never know what you’re getting into with repairs on HVAC units,” she says.

  “Go.” Eden waves off her concern. “We’re good here. I promise we’ll keep them alive, although I can’t promise they won’t be hyped up on sugar,” she teases.

  “I’ll take what I can get.” Carrie laughs. “Thank you,” she says, grabbing her purse, kissing her daughters, and rushing out the door.

  Summer takes my hand, and Daisy grasps Eden’s as they pull us toward the living room. Eden and I take a seat on the couch, while the girls climb up beside us.

  “Is it really your birthday?” Summer asks me.

  “It is.” I nod.

  She looks up at Eden. “Aunt Eden, can we make cupcakes for his birthday?”

  Eden smiles, pushing Summer’s hair out of her eyes. “If you have what we need, of course, we can.”

  An image of her being this soft and loving toward her own kids. Toward our kids, flashes through my mind. The visual surprises me. It’s been years since the dreams of having my own family were locked away, and now, here I am, watching her with her best friend’s daughters, and I can see it clearly. She’s round with our child, patiently teaching them. She’d be the mother neither of us had. The thought has my chest tightening.

  Is it possible those dreams could still come true? Was Eden the one all this time, and we just hadn’t crossed paths yet? I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a celebration.

  “Let’s go!” Summer says, jumping off the couch and running toward what I assume is the kitchen.

  “Let’s go. Me, too!” Daisy says, climbing to her feet and rushing after her sister.

  “You feel like making some cupcakes, birthday boy?” Eden asks.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever done it, but I’m game to help where I can.”

  “You’ve never made cupcakes?” she asks, her mouth falling open.

  “Nope.”

  “This must be rectified immediately.” This time, it’s Eden who’s eagerly standing on her feet, reaching for me, and pulling me toward the kitchen.

  We get lost in the task, and if I’m being honest, my face hurts from smiling so much.

  Who knew baking with kids could be this much fun? When the cupcakes are on the counter, cooling before we can ice them—something I’m just as bummed about as the girls—Eden’s phone rings.

  “It’s your mom,” she tells the girls, placing her index finger to her lips, letting them know to quiet down. “Hello?” she answers on speakerphone so the girls can hear their mom.

  “Don’t freak out,” Carrie says, and I see Eden stiffen.

  “Hey, girls, why don’t you go to the living room, and we’ll be right there,” I tell them.

  “Okay!” they both holler cheerfully and rush off to do as I asked.

  “You can’t call me and tell me not to freak out and expect that to work,” Eden scolds. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m okay, but I was in a car accident. I hit my head, so they’re making me go to the hospital. My car is totaled. I tried to call Nick but didn’t get him. I’m sure he’s under a house or in an attic or something. Can you come and get me?” she asks.

  “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. Are the girls around you?” Carrie asks.

  “No. Foster asked them to wait for us in the living room.”

  “Good. I’m pregnant,” Carrie says, and I can hear the happiness in her tone. “When I told the EMTs, they wanted me checked for precaution. I’m seven weeks, and everything is fine. I just need a ride.”

  “We’ll be there,” I tell her. “What about car seats for the girls?”

  “Nick took his work truck, and I’m in the car. You can bring our van. They have a car seat and a booster seat in it.”

  “We’re on our way. Nashville General?” I ask her.

  “Yes. Thank you both. I promise I’m fine. Ubers don’t come as far out of town as we live, unless it costs an arm and a leg,” she replies.

  “No. It’s not a problem for us to come and pick you up. We’ll get the girls loaded up and head that way.”

  “Thank you,” Carrie says again before ending the call.

  Taking Eden’s phone from her, I place it on the counter and pull her into my arms. “She’s okay,” I say, hugging her tight.

  “I know, but she’s all I have,” she says, and I want to tell her that’s not true. She has my friends and me, but now is not the time to debate that.

  “What do I need to do with these?” I point to the cupcakes.

  “They’ll be fine. The girls need to get their shoes on.”

  “Okay, let’s do that so that you see with your own eyes that Carrie is all right,” I tell her.

  “Thank you, Foster. I-I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Nowhere else I want to be, baby,” I tell her honestly.

  We get the girls loaded up, and twenty minutes later, after a mini–Taylor Swift concert from the back seat, I’m pulling the minivan into the parking lot of the Nashville General Emergency Room.

  The girls don’t know what’s going on, and that’s a good thing. With each of their small hands in mine, we follow Eden into the ER. She talks to the clerk and finds out where Carrie is, while the girls and I wait in the waiting room with their tablets.

  “We can go back. Just two, but I convinced them to let me and both girls go. I’m sorry,” Eden says.

  “Babe, it’s fine. You go and set eyes on her. I’ll be right here when you need me.”

  “Thank you, Foster.” She rises on her toes and kisses me quickly, before leading the girls to where a woman in scrubs waits for them.

  After twenty minutes have gone by, I’m tired of feeling like a fish in a fishbowl, so I walk to the small room that houses a couple of high-top tables and some vending machines. I’m perusing my options when I hear my name being called.

  “Foster?”

  Turning, my mouth drops open when I see Violet standing there. “Violet?” She’s standing by the back wall with a coffee in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here.” She smiles. “How have you been?”

  “You work here? In Nashville?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been here about two years now,” she says. “I thought about looking you up, but so much time had passed. How have you been?” she asks again.

  I stare at her, waiting to be swept away by emotion, but all I feel is… fondness. There’s no pain, no insistent regret. Nothing. Just me and the woman I used to date, who I once thought was my world, but I was wrong.

  I don’t feel anything for her.

  Eden is the woman my heart beats for, and I’m reminded of Knox’s words. He told me that Violet wasn’t the one because I didn’t feel it deep enough. He said I would have stopped at nothing to keep her in my life, and he’s right.

  I do feel those things.

  I feel them for Eden.

  We catch up for a few, just exchange awkward pleasantries, before I wish her well, and go back to my seat to wait for the true love of my life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eden

  * * *

  Carrie is fine, just as she said. The girls are with her while we wait for her discharge papers, and I need to go find Foster to give him an update. Stepping into the waiting room, I scan the room, but I don’t see him.

  “Are you lookin’ for that handsome man you came in here with?” an older lady sitting in the far corner asks.

  “I am.” I smile at her.

  “He went that way.” She nods toward the hallway that reads Concessions.

  “Thank you.” I smile at her and head that way.

  As soon as I step into the hallway, I hear his voice, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Violet?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

  My heart plummets straight to my feet, like it’s forgotten how to beat properly. The air leaves my lungs all at once, stolen, and for a second, I swear the world tilts. I pray that he doesn’t turn around. I don’t think I could survive seeing his face right now. I don’t want to see him look at her the way he used to look at me.

  Violet.

  The name echoes in my head, loud and sharp. The woman he’s loved all these years is standing right in front of him. Right here, in this place. Suddenly, everything I thought we were building shatters. Even though this hurts like hell, I’m happy for him. I really try to hold on to that thought, but my heart is cracking wide open anyway, splitting down the middle with a pain so sharp it feels physical. My chest aches, tight and burning, like something inside me is collapsing in on itself.

  Maybe I should see a doctor. I’m already in the right place for that, aren’t I?

  I don’t wait around to hear the rest of their conversation. I slip away from the small room like a coward, my feet carrying me down the hall before my mind can catch up. I move fast, too fast, desperate for somewhere to disappear. Somewhere I can breathe. Somewhere I can let the tears fall without being seen, without having to explain why I’m breaking apart in a place full of strangers.

  I need somewhere I can fall apart quietly.

  Because this hurts. God, it hurts so much.

  I knew it would. I knew it the moment I let myself fall for him. Knew the moment that I let myself believe that this was real, that it could become something. That we could become something. That I was taking a risk. It was a risk my heart couldn’t afford after years of rejection, but I took it anyway, because even with the pain, I’ll never regret a single second spent in his arms.

  I’ve never been the girl who gets the happily ever after. I’ve always known that fairy-tale endings don’t stick to someone like me. I just didn’t think it would unravel this fast. Hoped that it wouldn’t is more like it. I pushed the fear to the back of my mind and just immersed myself in him, and how he made me feel seen, cherished… loved.

  I hope that it works out for them. It hurts to even think that way, but in my heart, I just want Foster to be happy. I want his dreams to come true, even though he became mine, and that’s no longer a possibility. I still want him to have everything he’s ever wanted.

  Including her.

  And that thought hurts worse than anything else.

  Because, despite everything, despite the ache in my chest and the tears blurring my vision, I want him to be happy. I want nothing more than for Foster to find love, real love, and build the life he’s always dreamed of. He deserves that. He deserves someone who is only his. Someone he never has to let go of.

  I want that for him.

  Even if it means I’m standing alone in a quiet hallway, holding my heart together with shaking hands, trying to remember how to walk away without breaking completely.

  I don’t know how long I stand here in this little alcove at the end of the hall, but I know that I can’t hide here forever. I need to face him and this situation, and I plan to do so with grace.

  Foster made me no promises; he didn’t lie to me or coerce me into his bed. I fell there willingly. He’s an incredible human—one of my favorites, if not my very favorite person—and it’s not his fault I fell madly in love with him.

  Closing my eyes, I wipe my cheeks with my hands, ridding myself of the evidence of my tears, while I focus on breathing. I can do this. I won’t tell him that I know he saw her, not until we get Carrie and the girls back home safely. Then, I’ll let him know how happy I am for him, and I’ll walk away.

  He deserves that.

  With a plan, I stand tall, slowly blink open my eyes, and put one foot in front of the other. As I’m passing the small concession room, Foster is walking out. “Hey.” He smiles when he sees me.

  That smile.

  Damn, this hurts.

  “Hi.” I try to smile back at him, knowing that I’m falling short.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

  “Yeah, just emotional.” I smile through the pain.

  “Come here, baby,” he says, and I’m powerless to fight his embrace.

  Instead, I step into his open arms, wrap mine around him, and bury my face in his chest. I’ll miss this. The safety his embrace brings. The comfort of his scent, the way I seem to fit perfectly in his arms.

  “Is she ready to go?” he asks, his arms still locked around me, holding me together when I feel like I’m coming apart.

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice muffled against his chest. “They were finishing her discharge papers. The girls are with her. I came to find you to update you, and I just…” My words trail off. I don’t finish the sentence because I don’t know how to explain that I needed to breathe, needed something solid to hold on to before I shattered completely.

  He eases back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching my face like he might find the truth of what I’m not saying. “You good now?”

  I nod, even though my chest aches with the lie. “I’m good.” The words come out automatically. A reflex I’ve practiced my whole life.

  “Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s go get your family so that we can go home.”

  Home.

  The word hits me harder than anything else tonight. My throat tightens, and for a second, I’m terrified I won’t be able to hold it in. I wanted him to be my home. I had hoped that he would be a place where I could finally rest, finally belong. But wanting something doesn’t make it real, and I know better than to let myself believe in something that fragile.

  So, I swallow the feeling down, press it deep where it can’t break me, and lead him back to Carrie’s room. The girls smile when they see us, chattering away about how the nurse took their vitals. Carrie smiles at her daughters, and again, an ache for something I’ll never have sits heavy inside my chest.

  I’ll never have it because I know that I’ll never love another man the way I love Foster. I won’t settle, just as I won’t let him settle… with me. It’s the vicious truth of the heart, but it’s the truth all the same.

  Nearly an hour later, Foster is pulling Carrie and Nick’s family van into the garage, and Nick rushes out of the house to greet us. He called Carrie back ten minutes ago, and she assured him she was fine and would meet us at the house.

  Thankfully, the girls chattered all the way home, so there was no awkward silence. They grilled Foster with questions from whether he played Barbies, to whether girls could play football. He answered yes to the latter, saying he had never done it, but he was willing to do the first. He was patient with them, kind, and I know he’s going to be a great father, if that opportunity ever presents itself to him.

  “Fuck,” Nick mutters. The girls gasp, but he ignores them as he helps Carrie out of the back of the van and pulls her into his arms. Foster and I remain in our seats, giving them time, and once they start to help the girls from their seats, we climb out.

  “Thanks, man,” Nick says, offering his hand to Foster. “Nick,” he adds.

  “Foster. No thanks necessary.”

  “Daddy, we gots to see the nurses, and they said we all better,” Daisy tells Nick.

  He chuckles. “That’s good to hear, sweetheart. Let’s go in so Mommy can rest.”

  “I’m fine,” Carrie assures him.

  “I know, but Nick’s right. You need to rest,” I tell Carrie, moving in to give her a side hug, because Nick hasn’t let her go since helping the girls from the van. He immediately went back to her, wrapping her in his arms. “We’re going to let you go.”

  “The cupcakes!” Summer cries.

  “Cupcakes?” Nick asks.

  “It’s Foster’s birthday today. We made cupcakes,” I explain.

  “Oh, well, Daddy can help you finish them. Maybe Foster and Aunt Eden can come by tomorrow or later today and pick them up,” Nick suggests.

  “Foster, will that make you sad?” Summer asks.

  He kneels in front of her. “No, sweetie, that won’t make me sad. The best part of my birthday was making cupcakes with the three of you. With my job, I don’t get to eat sweets very often, so you and your sister can have them.”

  “Not even on your birthday?” Summer’s eyes widen, and we all chuckle.

  “Sometimes.” He winks.

  “Come back and have one,” Summer insists.

  “We’ll come back,” he assures her. “Let’s give Mommy a few hours to rest, and then we’ll stop back by.” Foster stands back to his full height. “We’ll bring dinner with us, give you both a break from cooking.”

  My heart.

  This man.

  Even knowing where Violet is, knowing she’s back in his life, he’s still being nice to my family. I want to tell him not to make promises he can’t keep, but he’s never broken a promise. I know he’ll do what he says, which means I have to hold it together a little longer. I can’t break apart yet.

  The drive back to Foster’s condo is quiet. He doesn’t speak, and neither do I. Instead, I hold on to his hand, as if it’s my lifeline, and tell myself I can do this. I can pretend I’m not falling to pieces for a few more hours.

  In the garage, he meets me at the door, laces our fingers together, and leads me into the house. He doesn’t stop until we’re in the living room, and he pulls me onto his lap. His breathing is accelerated. He’s nervous.