Instead, I went very still. Julian took it for weakness. I think we need to discuss a separation, he said. And custody.
I'm not going to let you use Lilia to punish me. I laughed once. The sound was strange, dry, almost calm. You've been gone for most of her life.
She's 5 weeks old. Exactly. He stepped closer. Careful, Ara.
If this gets ugly, you won't win. You don't have the money. You don't have your father. You don't have anyone who can stand up in court and say you're stable.
There it was the plan. Spoken too soon. I held his gaze for a long moment, then picked up my phone. What are you doing?
He asked, taking notes, his lip curled. For what? For the future. He laughed and walked away to the guest room.
I sat on the nursery floor until dawn, Lilia sleeping on my chest, and I wrote down every word he had said. At 7:00 a.m., I opened my contacts. My father's number was still there.
I didn't call him. Not yet. But I stopped pushing the thought away.
Sloan asked to meet at a coffee shop in the West Village with marble tables, glass light fixtures, and desserts arranged like jewelry. It was the kind of place where women ordered oat milk lattes, and men in expensive coats pretended not to check each other's watches. I arrived 5 minutes early because Lilia had fallen asleep in her stroller and I'd learned to treat infant sleep like the weather. You move when the sky allows it.
Sloan was already there. Of course she was. She sat by the window in a camel colored coat with gold buttons, stirring a cappuccino she hadn't touched. She arranged her face into a careful smile when she saw me.
She said, "Thanks for coming. " I came because you said it was about Lilia. It is. I parked the stroller next to my chair and sat down without taking off my coat.
Lilia slept under the canopy, only one tiny socked foot visible from beneath the blanket. Sloan glanced at it and sighed. She really is beautiful. I didn't say anything.
The old version of me would have filled the silence. I would have tried to seem polite, reasonable, above jealousy. I would have hated myself for caring what Sloan thought and cared anyway. That version of me was exhausted.
The current version had her phone in her coat pocket with the voice recorder already on. Sloan lowered her voice. I know you hate me. I don't know you well enough to hate you.
That annoyed her. Fine. I understand why you're angry, she said. But Julian and I didn't plan this.
You didn't plan to sleep with a married man while his wife was pregnant. Her gaze flickered to the next table. A man typing on a laptop didn't look up, but his fingers paused. Sloan leaned forward.
Relationships are complicated. Infidelity usually is. Her smile thinned. Okay, if you want to be sharp, let's be sharp.
Julian was lonely. I stared at her. Lonely. You pushed him away.
You were pregnant. You became obsessed with the baby. I almost admired the cruelty of it. Almost.
Lilia stirred in her stroller, making a small noise. I bent down and adjusted her blanket. Sloan watched the movement. That's what I mean, she said softly.
You disappear into being a mother. And Julian needs a partner. Someone who sees him. I looked at her again.
You saw him so clearly. You missed the wedding ring. Her cheeks flushed. Julian told me your marriage was over.
It wasn't over when he was in my bed. Her lips parted, then closed. I let the silence hang in the air. She took a breath, choosing a different strategy.
I didn't ask you here to fight. Then what for? Because court is going to be painful for everyone. And I think it would be better if you accepted reality now.
Which reality is that? That Julian can give Lilia more. There it was. The reason.
Not love, not care, more. More money, more house, more image, more beautiful family photos where Sloan could stand in a white dress holding a baby she didn't carry. I leaned back in my chair. More of what?
A stable home, she said. A father who can provide. And a mother figure who isn't drowning. The words were rehearsed.
I could almost hear Julian's lawyer's voice behind them. A mother figure, I repeated. Sloan's hand tightened on her spoon. You know what I mean?
I want to hear it from you. She hesitated. I nodded toward the stroller. Lilia is asleep.
Speak freely. It worked. Vanity overrode caution. I mean someone who can help raise her without turning every day into a crisis.
Sloan said Someone calm, presentable. Someone who isn't sobbing on the floor holding an infant. My pulse jumped. I kept my face blank.
Julian showed you that video. Her eyes widened then narrowed. He was worried. He was filming me instead of helping me.
He didn't know what else to do. He could have taken the baby for 10 minutes. Sloan looked away. She knew.
Of course, she knew. Women like Sloan knew exactly who men like Julian were. They just believed the cruelty would always be aimed at someone else. She picked up her cup.