Night Road

She loved him so much. It wasn’t only in her blood, the way she loved him; it was her blood. She didn’t know if everyone else was right and her love for him would someday begin to fade like an old photograph; how could she know that? She only knew that her love for him was the very best of her and without it her heart would be empty.

He moved closer, looking uncertain.

She was glad her daughter was in her arms, because she would have touched him. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself.

Up close, she saw the scar along his jawline; the wrinkled skin was the same pink as their baby’s face. Soon, maybe, it would be gone altogether or become too fine to see, but it was there now, a visible reminder of her crime.

“Hi, Zach,” she said, hearing the tremble in her voice.

He drew in a breath, saying her name quietly, and there finally was the heartache. His voice reminded her of nights on the beach, of kisses that went on all night. Of dreams and futures.

“She looks just like Mia,” he said, and, with that, the past was here with them again, crouched alongside this bundled-up bit of the future.

Lexi wanted to apologize, but she held back. There was no point anymore; those days were over. This was about something else. Someone else. “I would name her Grace,” Lexi said, wiping her eyes. “If it was up to me. ”

“You’re her mother,” Zach said.

Her mother. Lexi didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

“I thought you wanted to name … I thought you liked Katya. ”

She drew in a breath at that: so, he remembered. It felt like a lifetime ago, that conversation of hope between two kids who thought that love was easy. They’d been on their beach, spinning diaphanous dreams of the future. “My friend … Tamica is a Catholic. She says when God forgives you, he grants you grace. ” She looked down at her daughter. “Gracie? Is that you?”

The baby made a mewling sound, and Lexi started to cry. “Don’t cry, baby,” she said, kissing the tiny pink lips.

Then she looked up at Zach. “Tell her I loved her enough to do what was best for her. ”

“I’ll bring her to visit—”

“No. ” She kissed her daughter one last time, and then slowly, slowly handed her to Zach. “I don’t want her to grow up like I did. Keep her away from me. ”

He took the small bundle in his arms. “Grace,” he said. “Grace Mia Farraday. ”

Lexi felt the pain of that. “I love you, Gracie,” she whispered, wishing she’d kissed her daughter one more time before she handed her over. “And Zach, I—”

There was a knock at the door. It was so loud it startled her.

“That will be my mom,” Zach said. “What were you going to say?”

Lexi shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. ”

He paused, moved his gaze from the baby to Lexi. “I ruined everything,” he said softly.

She couldn’t find her voice, not even to say good-bye to her daughter or the boy she loved.

* * *

Jude had tried to prepare for this day. She told herself this would be it, the start of a new Jude, and so when Zach came out of Lexi’s hospital room, holding a pink-wrapped newborn, his eyes glazed with emotion, Jude felt hope rising within her, standing tall.

“Grace Mia Farraday,” Zach said.

“She’s gorgeous,” Miles said, coming up beside his son, cupping the baby’s small head in his long surgeon’s hand.

Jude looked down into her granddaughter’s small face, and time seemed to fall away.

For a second, she was a young mother herself, with a baby in each arm and Miles beside her.

Grace looked exactly like Mia.