The Roommate Equation

She stretches her hand across the table until our fingers touch, her eyes fixed on me. “He didn’t want you to have the baby?”

I shake my head. “Dylan sort of went off the rails after I told him. I mean, we still talked, but we mostly fought. He didn’t want to have kids while he was still in college. He couldn’t deal, not with Date Crashers starting up. Dylan and my brother were flying back and forth between Cambridge and Silicon Valley to take meetings with venture capitalists for their first round of funding.”

“So, what happened?”

“I hated the person he became. He handled the situation like a jackass. I told him I was done with him and that I would raise the baby alone.”

Her eyebrows rise. “But you don’t have kids.”

My heart slams into my chest, racing so fast I can barely catch my breath. “It was an ectopic pregnancy.”

She gives me a confused look.

“The fertilized egg implanted in my fallopian tube instead of my uterus,” I explain. “But I didn’t know it at first.”

Willow slips her fingers between mine and squeezes my shaking hand. “I’m so sorry, babe. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you, going through that on your own.”

“That’s not the worst part,” I say, my stomach in knots. “I have damage to my fallopian tube from the surgery.”

Her grip on my hand tightens. “Can you still have kids?”

I shake my head. “The doctor doesn’t think I can. She said it would be near impossible for an egg to implant, and if it does, there’s a higher risk of having another ectopic pregnancy.”

She glances down at our joined hands and sighs. I use my free hand to wipe away the fallen tears that slide down my cheeks. We sit in silence for a moment, and when our eyes meet again, Willow’s blue irises are watery. The look on her face is the reason I have kept my business to myself.

I don’t want anyone to pity me. After years of trying to accept my future, I still struggle every day with the possibility I will never have children.

Willow wipes the corners of her eyes and leans back in her chair. “Does Dylan know?”

“I told him I had a miscarriage.”

She picks at the chipped polish on her index finger and lets out a deep breath. “I take back what I said earlier. Maybe you should stay away from him. I had no idea what I was talking about… If I had known I wouldn’t have—”

“You didn’t know,” I interrupt.

“Thank you for telling me,” she says with sadness in her eyes.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told. I tried to tell Dylan so many times but… I don’t know. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t think it would matter if he knew the truth. We can’t change the past.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Willow says in a hopeful tone. “The word itself says I’m possible.”

I flash a smile. “Audrey Hepburn. I love that quote.”

“It’s true,” she says, her expression mirroring mine. “You could still have kids.”

“In my case, I think the doctor is right.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Because of Josh,” I admit. “After the first six months we were together, we stopped using condoms. I told him what the doctor said, and he wanted to test out the theory. Josh wanted to be a father, so I knew he wouldn’t run away if I got pregnant. And I loved him. I thought we would get married someday. But after two years, I never got pregnant.”

“And that’s why he left you for the bartender?”

I nod in response. “She got pregnant a few months after Josh moved out.”

She groans. “Stop following your exes on Facebook. It doesn’t do you any good.”

“I deleted the app from my phone, so I wouldn’t feel the need to stalk Josh and his perfect life… or check up on Dylan.”

“You can avoid Dylan until you move back into your apartment,” she suggests. “His house is huge. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, you would think, but somehow, we keep finding ways to run into each other.”

“I would let you stay with me, but we don’t have any room. Harley has an entire bedroom dedicated to her art, and you would die from the paint fumes if you slept in there.”

Willow doesn’t have two cents, but she does have a best friend and roommate who is mega-rich. Harley McQueen is the daughter of a video game developer who runs one of the world's largest tech companies.

I wave my hand to dismiss her concern. “Don’t worry about me. I’m like a fish. I can adapt to any situation.”

Before Willow can get in another word, my cell phone rings. I remove it from my purse and sigh when I see Sloan’s name.

Is he checking up on me again?