Page 68 of The Love Between the First and Last

“It’s hard with class and the drive and all that.”

I haven’t seen a whole lot of Andy since she broke up with Micha. Two weeks after she broke things off with him, she boarded a plane for Honduras. Alone.

The woman is a nut, but she came back inspired, hence the art class.

“How are you and Tate?”

“We're good…I think.”

There’s a heavy pause. “You think?”

I can’t tell Andy that I’ve never been intimate with Tate, because then she would know that he’s not Owen’s father. But I also need to talk to my friend. I need…advice.

I blow a breath from between puffed cheeks as I pull myself up from the couch to pace the living room. Owen will sleep for another hour. If I’m lucky, I’ll get Tate’s cake iced before he wakes. The thing has been cooling on the counter for the last hour.

“Faye?” Andy calls.

I blurt, “We haven’t had sex.” When Andy says nothing, I drop my head into my hand and add, “Since Owen was born.”

“Oh…”

“I just thought we would have done that by now—and I think I’m panicking that he doesn’t find me attractive anymore.”

“First, that man worships the ground you walk on. Second,” she pauses. “When are you allowed to have sex after pushing out a baby? Does it—you know—feel okay down there?”

My face heats. I mumble, “I’ve been cleared for months.”

“Maybe he’s worried he’ll hurt you.”

“Or maybe I scarred him when I pushed out a kid.”

Another pregnant pause. “I don’t know if I’m the right friend for this conversation.”

“You’re the only one I’m having this conversation with, so suck it up.”

Andy makes a noise of distress. “Maybe I should Google it?”

My eyes bug. “What are you going to Google?”