24. Billie

CHAPTER 24

BILLIE

“ C ome on, sweetie, you have to eat,” says Ella, watching me push food around on my plate.

I frown, staring at the pasta so I don’t have to look at her. I can’t stomach this right now. I just can’t. “I’m not that hungry, honestly.”

“Yes, but the baby will be.”

“Stupid baby,” I mutter.

“Honey, we talked about this. You don’t really mean that, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” I sigh, and it’s true.

I want this baby.

Motherhood has always been on my life plan. I just expected it to happen a little differently.

All the same, I think I’m allowed to be upset when my boobs are swelling and I’m being sick multiple times an hour.

And I’m still only in my first trimester. How much worse is this gonna get before the baby comes?

“I know what’ll make you feel better,” says Ella. “You need to go on vacation. Get back to work. Go to some tropical paradise for a while and take some photos. You’ll feel good as new.”

I smile thinly at her. She’s been so good to me over the last few weeks. She’s a nurse so she’s always busy, but she’s managed to come over at least once every few days and make sure that I haven’t died.

“I can’t go away like this,” I sigh again. “I feel too sick all the time.”

“I’d come with you if I could.”

“I know,” I say, closing my eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m just being grumpy.”

Ella grins. “Honestly, if you’re not allowed to be grumpy when you’re pregnant, when are you allowed?”

I chuckle. “True, but I shouldn’t be grumpy when my best friend is looking after me so well.”

“I’m just sorry I can’t do more.”

She squeezes my hand again, and I know what’s coming. It’s a subject we’ve been skirting around for a while now.

“Billie,” Ella says softly, “you can’t just raise this baby by yourself.”

“Why not? Plenty of people do it. I’ll be fine.”

“And I’m sure you’re right about that, but you know what I’m saying. Have you thought about telling Jensen?”

I swallow hard, clenching my fists and willing myself not to cry.

More than I would like to, I’ve been having this dream, this fantasy of Jensen holding our baby in his arms, giving our child that reverent smile he does when he’s seen something beautiful. I’m sure he would be a great dad. He just can’t be the one for my baby.

“Of course I’ve thought about it. But I can’t. How would I even get in contact with him? I can’t exactly slide into his DMs. He’s a prince , for goodness’ sake.”

“Haven’t you searched for him online at all lately?”

“What would be the point? He’s not coming back. He’s probably off with some other young, hot girl right now.”

Ella shakes her head firmly. “Lucky for you, you know the world’s best celebrity-gossip follower. I’ve made a point of not following him, out of solidarity, but I know all his handles.”

She pauses for a moment, tongue out as she looks him up.

I’m not sure if it’s the idea of seeing him that makes my stomach lurch, or the sickness that seems to not be going away. Typical of me, really, to get worse-than-average morning sickness. The name is misleading, anyway — I’ve been sick all day every day.

My baby doesn’t care if it’s morning or not.

But the fact is that thinking about Jensen fills me with a cold chill. I have a whole folder on my computer filled with pictures we took together, selfies and dumb stuff, and photos I took of him when he wasn’t looking. He’s beautiful in every single one of the candid shots, and I can’t bear to look at any of them.

Even hearing his name makes me want to burst into tears.

And I haven’t said that to Ella, because I know exactly what she would say. That I feel this torn up inside about everything because I’m still in love with him.

But how can I be in love with a man I only knew for a couple of weeks?

How can I still miss him this much?

“‘Playboy Prince ready for his next act?’ ‘A new era for the Prince of Parties?’” Ella mutters a few more headlines like this out loud, and I slump back in my chair.

“See? I told you. He’s forgotten all about me.”

“Ah, but did you know he’s been doing charity work?”

“Charity work?” My mouth drops open in shock.

Jensen is a caring guy, but I would have assumed him to be way too self-obsessed to think about other people for long enough to do charity work of his own volition.

“Yeah, look,” says Ella, scrolling through some photos he’s posted lately. “He seems to have done a total one-eighty on his public appearance.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Oh, wait, he’s actually livestreaming right now.”

She pulls the phone back for a second, taps on a button, then points the phone back at me. A blast of static blares out of the speaker like a heavy windstorm has swept through the kitchen. And there, on the screen, wrapped up in a thick winter coat, goggles, and a furry scarf, is Jensen.

“That’s a great question, LemonPlay32,” he shouts as if he’s trying to hear himself over the wind and through his thick hood. “Dr. Schroder told me this morning that there have been a bunch of studies on how the melting ice is impacting us humans, and how it’s literally making us sicker because contaminated stuff can get frozen in the ice.”

A comment pops up from another user, demanding to know how we can stop it, as well as letting Jensen know how brilliant and handsome and wonderful he is.

“Individual action goes a lot further than you think, actually! One of the most useful things you can do is call whichever politician is in charge of your local area and demand that they demand that the government puts more focus on the environment and climate issues. The more people that speak up, the more we can get done — together.”

I watch as he keeps answering questions, absolutely enchanted by the man I’m seeing. Can this really be the party prince transformed? Because this Jensen that I’m seeing on the screen is my Jens .

This is the man I fell in love with. The one who’s well-meaning and caring and trying his best to make things better.

All this time, I had thought he would go straight back to being the guy from the gossip mags again, but he’s doing expeditions to the Arctic all by himself. And he’s not talking nonsense, either! This is real conservation stuff!

This is exactly the kind of work I’m trying to do.

Could this have really been because of me?

“Okay, he’s changed,” I concede. “So what? It’s not like he would want to hear from me now, not after everything that happened. It’s fine, really. I don’t have anyone else, so I’m going to do it myself and I’ll just have to cope.”

Ella stops the video, and my heart aches with the need to hear Jensen’s voice again.

As gently as she can, Ella says, “I know you can cope. But I just don’t think this is the best idea you’ve ever had, that’s all.”

I don’t want to argue, so I drop the subject with a huff and force myself to eat instead. Fortunately, Ella either gets the hint, or my distraction works enough to get her to talk about something else instead. I don’t mind her fussing over me and the baby, but I wish she would stop trying to bring Jensen into it too.

God knows I’ve been worrying about what I’ll tell this child about their father when they grow up, and he or she is not even born yet.

But even though I try to push my doubts and fears aside, I’m still thinking about it all even after Ella has said her goodbyes and left me for the evening. Normally I like my own company a lot, but right now I don’t like the way it gives me time to think.

And the fact is, the idea of doing this all alone is terrifying. I’m not really sure that I can do it. But what choice do I have?

I know I’ve got Ella, but she has her own life too. She can’t be here for every diaper and sleepless night. She doesn’t have that kind of time.

It’s times like this that I regret having such a small network. My work means I travel too much for maintaining friendships, and I’ve never truly understood the downside of that until now.

There’s only one other person in the city with a phone number I still know, and I don’t think she would be willing to help.

Maybe she would, though. Maybe she’s been waiting for me to make the first move. Maybe this is the kind of push we need to bring us back together.

It’s not like I have many other options.

Before I can second-guess myself or really think about what I’m doing, I pick up my phone and dial the number.

I’ve been saying to myself for years how I’d love to be closer to her. Maybe it’s time to put my money where my mouth is.

She picks up after two rings, to my surprise, and says, “Billie? Is that you?”

I smile shakily, letting out a breath of something that’s approaching relief.

“Hi, Mom.”