The After of Us (Judge Me Not #4)(55)

She then blurts out, “Can Mommy Emma come live with us, too?”

She shoots me a wide-eyed, uh-oh expression, probably recalling how I, like the ass I can be, told her not to call Emma her mommy.

Quickly, Lily amends, “I mean Miss Emma.”

I place my hand on her little shoulder and squeeze. “Hey, Lily, I don’t mind if you want to call Emma ‘Mommy Emma.’”

Quietly, she asks, “You think maybe someday she want to be my mommy, like, o-fiss-olly?”

For the first time, I feel no panic, no uncertainty, at that prospect. Truth is I want Emma to remain in our lives, as much as, if not more so than, Lily does.

Leaning over to kiss Lily’s cheek, I murmur, “Maybe, sweetheart, maybe.”





Emma



At daycare on Monday, I check my email—from my phone—every chance I get. I’m hoping to hear back from the agent I sent Will’s complete comic book manuscript to.

There’s no reply at eleven. And still nothing through lunchtime.

Nothing, as well, during afternoon naptime for the kids.

And still nothing at three thirty.

Dammit!

A few of the early parents arrive to pick up their kids. And then the rest come.

My email remains empty.

And then I am at home, strolling through the door of my apartment.

My phone dings as I kick off my heels, indicating that I have a voicemail. I check it hastily and find it’s from Will.

As I listen to his voicemail, I sense excitement in his tone.

Hey, babe. Hope your day’s been as good as mine. Lily’s doing great, by the way. After I picked her up at the hospital, we spent the whole day together. We hung out at home, like the doctor recommended, just taking it easy. Of course, Lily wanted to color and draw, since running around outside was out. He pauses, and then chuckles. I think my hand might fall off from all the drawing she had me do. Anyway, can I see you tonight? I have something I want to share with you. I’ll be over at seven, if that’s okay? If that’s not good, just shoot me a text. Shit, I can’t wait to see you, babe.

There’s no hint or indication of what this “something” Will wants to share with me could be. I’m excited to find out, but disappointed I have no good news for him.

Before getting ready for Will’s impending visit, I nuke a microwave meal and devour it in all of about ten minutes. I then take a quick shower, slip on a cute pair of white shorts and a royal blue V-neck tee, and settle in to wait for Will.

Hunkering down on the sofa, I check my email for what has to be the fiftieth time.

And this time… “Holy crap, the agent replied!”

I read the email carefully. And then I re-read it two more times to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. But, no, I read it correctly the first time, and here’s the gist—the agent loves Will’s work. In fact, she’s so impressed she wants to speak with him on the phone about turning his comic book into a graphic novel—like he’s dreamed of—as soon as possible.

That’s it—I have to tell him tonight. Maybe he’ll even decide to stay after hearing this good news.

A girl can dream, right?

Will arrives at seven, and I let him in.

When I can’t quit smiling, he asks, “What has you so happy?”

I give him a hug. “You,” I reply.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.”

He looks pretty damn happy himself, so I add, “You seem happy, too. Looks like both our days have been awesome.”

He narrows the gap between us and leans down so our lips are close. “Let’s make things even better.”

He then kisses me.

And after a truly breathtaking kiss—Will’s an amazing kisser—I murmur, “Wow. Do you think I’ll ever get tired of those lips of yours?”

Chuckling, he says, “I hope not.” Leading me over to the sofa, he adds, “Anyway, like I mentioned in the voicemail, I have something I need to tell you.”

On the coffee table in front of the sofa lies the printout of the agent’s response, the one I can’t wait to share with Will.

But not yet.

When I sit down, I snatch up the letter so Will doesn’t see it before I have a chance to explain how it came to be.

With the letter grasped in my hand, blank-side up, I say, “I actually have something to share with you, too.”

Will takes a seat beside me. “Okay,” he says, glancing at the letter. “Is that it?”

“Yes. And I hope you won’t be mad when you see what’s on it.”

He suddenly looks panicked as he asks, “Why would I be mad over what’s on a piece of paper?”

Poor guy probably thinks it’s a positive pregnancy test result after having been blindsided by Cassie. But he needn’t be concerned; that’s well covered on my end.

“It’s nothing bad,” I assure him. “In fact, it’s great news. I just don’t want you to hate me for going behind your back.” I pause, and then say, “Just know I did this with the best intentions. I only want you to be happy, Will.”

In a low voice, complete with a melt-me-now smile, Will says, “I am happy, Emma.”

I start to hand him the agent’s letter, but he stills my hand. “Wait. Let me tell you my news first.”