Happily Letter After(71)

Even though I’d been sick about what I’d done since yesterday, it still hadn’t stopped me from being the first one in line at the post office when it opened this morning.

When Sadie had told me about her egg donation, she’d said she never wanted to know who the recipients of her generosity were. In fact, she’d made sure the entire process was anonymous before going through with it. And for some reason, I didn’t think she’d ever had contact with her own birth parents. At least she’d never mentioned it. So I was pretty sure she didn’t want to know if she had children out there.

But I had to know.

Plus, what were the odds that Sadie was our donor? The fertility center had never even told us what state the person was from, only that she was a US citizen. There are over three hundred million people in this country. I’d have a better shot of winning the damn lottery. Sadie would probably think I’d lost my mind for even thinking it was a possibility—three hundred million people in the country, and my daughter just happens to write her biological mother a letter. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she’d probably be right—I was a little nutty for even considering it could happen.

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.