“You held her for 10 seconds.”
“That isn’t what I thought.”
“Then what did you think? Because from where I was sitting, you looked at your own baby that you’d asked me to be a surrogate for and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.”
Ryan sat down on one of my kitchen stools, and something in his shoulders gave way. I watched my twin brother, the man who had driven me home after Gabriel’s father abandoned us five years ago and told me we’d be okay, fold in half in front of me.
“That isn’t what I thought.”
“I lost my job, Ivy.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Four months ago. Right after the second trimester scan.”
The clock over the stove ticked. I could hear it.
“Melissa doesn’t know.”
“Ryan.”
“I put on a shirt and tie every morning. I sit in the coffee shop until five. I send resumes. I’ve had two interviews in four months, and neither called back.”
