“Hi,” Brendan greeted me as I stepped out of the Uber. He was waiting by the door, watching for me, which is just so Brendan.

I breezed past him like I owned the place and he grabbed the bun on top of my head playfully. So this definitely felt like a college-era booty call.

We both stepped inside and I took in the place again. It was dark and moody, with most of the light coming from the fireplace.

“Want something to drink?” Brendan asked.

“Obviously,” I said back as I set down my things and kicked off my shoes.

“Wine?”

“Sure.”

“Red or white?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“I just finished a bottle of Sancerre so I was thinking of opening this new Volnay my stepmom got me. Is that okay?”

“Brendan.” I gave him a look as I joined him in the kitchen. He’s just way too nice and accommodating. “Whatever you’re having.”

“Okay.”

I checked him out while he opened the bottle of wine and didn’t even try to hide it when he caught me.

“You look cute,” I told him.

Brendan smirked as he poured wine in our glasses. “Thanks. That’s always my goal: to be ‘cute.’”

I gave him a sassy eye roll as I picked up my wine and turned to leave, but then he grabbed me by one of the belt loops of my baggy jeans to stop me. I immediately got goosebumps all over and he’d barely even touched me.

“Cheers. Thanks for coming,” he said.

I hope I wasn’t the only one coming, I thought as we clinked our glasses together.

Brendan said I could pick out the movie and I flipped through until I found Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion — an absolute classic. And then we got settled on the couch: him on one end and me on the other, with my feet in his lap.

And while I wanted to focus on Romy and Michele because the movie is superb, I was more interested in talking to Brendan. We talked a little bit about work and I made him elaborate on a story he’d started earlier, about how Thomas had ordered six pallets of materials to the wrong job site. And then I watched him, amused, as he tried to hide his frustration because this was not the first time Thomas had done something like this and Brendan is too nice to hold him accountable. If I owned a company and someone made a mistake that cost us thousands of dollars, they’d only make that mistake once, I told him. Thomas is good at a lot of other things, he explained, and that he had to pick his battles because his dad had picked the wrong ones and that was part of his downfall. I made him tell me more about how he took over he company from his dad because we hadn’t really talked in depth about that and it’s fascinating to me. Brendan went to business school with the intention of being some startup genius, but instead got roped into running his family’s business.

We talked a bit more about his family and then he made one mention of his ex-wife and I pounced — literally getting up on my knees to be right next to him. He was being so open so maybe he was in the mood to share more about their relationship. I still didn’t even know why they officially broke up. I knew that they’d basically grown up together and that their families are close, but I wasn’t aware that his ex’s dad is the one who encouraged him to go to business school and helped him get in. And when he started his business when he was in his twenties, his ex’s dad fronted all the money. He didn’t even really need it, but the father insisted — clearly as a control tactic. So he told me how this was always a pain point between him and his ex; her family — mainly her father — was super involved in their lives and relationship and she relied on them for everything.

“So do you still talk to her family?” I needed to know.

Brendan squirmed. “I don’t wanna talk about her anymore.”

Denied.

“Okay…” I said, “What do you want to talk about instead?”

He glanced down at my boobs (to be fair, they were kinda in his face), put a hand on my lower back and kissed me. Finally. Brendan and I hadn’t been physical at all since that kiss I can barely even remember and I was beyond ready to get it on and poppin. I climbed into his lap and straddled him so I could kiss him like I really wanted to and okay, so I could gauge his excitement level. 

It wasn’t long before we were fully making out; his arms were wrapped strongly around my waist and I was grinding myself back and forth on what felt like a nice sized boner. And I wish I could take that moment and bottle it up: the relief of finally kissing him — like scratching a hard to reach itch, the feeling of his hard body under me, even the way he smelled… like fucking soap and man.

“Should we go to your room?” I asked eventually.

Brendan stared up at me curiously. “You sure you wanna do that?”

There was literally nothing I wanted to do more. “Uh, yes.”

So we got up and I followed Brendan down the dark hallway to his bedroom. As soon as we got in the room, I started to undress, beginning with my jeans. I watched as Brendan went to the nightstand and slowly emptied his pockets and took off his Apple Watch. And then with his back to me, he took his shirt off and folded it up nicely. I hesitated, wondering if we misunderstood each other, and he thought I wanted to come in here to go to sleep.

Brendan turned around and faced me and started undoing the buttons on his joggers and… yeah. Clearly we were on the same page. I peeled my tank top off, thinking vaguely about the fact that Brendan would be the first guy to see me naked (besides Brady 🙄) since I had a baby. But technically, I was in the best shape of my life (aka the thinnest) so it was fine I guess.

“Come here,” Brendan said and I met him where he was sitting in his boxer briefs on the edge of the bed. “You are unbelievable.”

And then we started kissing again and I got on top of him and pushed him back on the bed and you know, tried to move things along. Brendan put his hands on my shoulders and pulled back slightly.

“You sure?” he murmured.

Seriously? “Brendan.” I wanted to let him know that I didn’t travel all this way to watch a movie from 1997 and gossip about his ex-wife’s family — as much fun as all that was.

“Okay.” He used one hand to reach around me and dig into the nightstand to pull out a full box of condoms. At least he was prepared.

And so then… I helped him out of his boxer briefs, he watched me watch him put the condom on and then I hopped on.

So this was really happening. Brendan was inside me and there was no going back now. It took a second for my body to get adjusted (it had been awhile!) and so we just stared at each other. Brendan and I were having sex. Finally. I actually didn’t think it would ever happen.

But then I stopped being sentimental and got on with it because if this was going to happen, I was going to make it worthwhile. I put one hand flat against his chest and rode him like my life absolutely depended on it. Brendan grabbed onto my hips and tossed his head back and I had goosebumps everywhere and it was so incredible. Then he sat up so we were chest to chest. At this point we were both hot and sticky with sweat.

“I want to kiss you,” he said.

And it’s like, really? At a time like this? But it was really intimate, having sex with him looking me in the eye like that. All of my dreams about sex with Brendan were rough and dirty where we’re both agressive and impatient and desperate to get off after years of brewing sexual tension. But I guess this was nice too and something about the chest to chest positioning created friction and his face right in my face just made me completely explode.

And then after I came, Brendan flipped us over so he was on top of me, pinned my thighs apart, and fucked me hard, just like I imagined. And this is terrible, but I always think about how Brendan said his ex-wife is the only person he’s ever been with. So did he fuck her like this? Why did my mind go there? He probably didn’t even mean it like that.

And then we were done and Brendan got up to use the bathroom and I wondered if I should make a run for it. We’d just had sex and it was probably going to be really fucking weird because he’s my good friend and we had no business doing that. But then he came back to the bed and snuggled behind me (of course Brendan is a post-coitus spooner).

“You okay?” he asked and I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

“You have to stop checking on me.”

And then he didn’t say anything and I was oddly worried that maybe I’d hurt his feelings. I make it a point not to give a shit about men or their feelings.

I thought maybe I’d rest a bit and then take my ass home, but then we just kept having sex after that: the way I always envisioned where my face was smashed into the pillows and my ass was in the air, but then Brendan would plant light kisses all over every inch of my body and I wanted to slap him because it felt too good but instead I’d push him down and climb back on top because at that point I just wanted him inside me again and…yeah.

That lasted until 5 AM. My phone started chiming with morning promotional emails and we hadn’t gotten any sleep and I really needed to go home.

“Don’t go,” Brendan said as I peeled myself out of the bed.

“I need to sleep and shower and eat and check in with my child,” I said.

“You can sleep here,” Brendan said as I started getting dressed. “And then you can walk to your office.”

Obviously that was not an option because imagine me doing the walk of shame in front of Mike? Plus, after all that, it would definitely be a WFH day for me. So I finished getting dressed and when Brendan saw that I was serious, he got up and put on pants. He offered to call an Uber and as we waited, he proceeded to talk about his to-do list for the day and how he was meeting with Mike in the afternoon to discuss an upcoming project and no pressure, but did I want to join? And it’s just like dude, we’re still awake from yesterday because we were banging all night — and it clearly shows — I do not want to talk about work or my boss right now.

The Uber arrived and I tried to rush out, but Brendan grabbed my arm, pulled me back into the doorway and kissed me. And it was really cute and I spent the whole ride wondering what the fuck because now I really, really, really liked Brendan.

I had every intention of going home, soaking in a scalding bath and then sleeping the rest of the day, but when I double-checked my calendar to make sure I didn’t have anything to do, I saw an in-person meeting with some architect that Sam set up. See, that’s why you check your calendar before scheduling a booty call. But it was fine; the meeting wasn’t until later in the day so I could still sleep a little bit.

But just as I was tucking myself into bed, I got a text from Mike.

“Hit me up when you get in today,” he said.

Hit me up? Mike, really? But of course, my initial thought was: he knows. He and Brendan are best friends so of course he found out what happened. And now he was going to confront me because maybe there was no written rule stating that what I did was wrong, but it was certainly unprofessional.

I wasn’t about to tell him that I had no plans of coming in today because you don’t say that to Mike. I dragged my ass out of bed, got ready (making good use of my Nars Radiant Creamy Concealer) and schlepped to the city. Mike wasn’t even in the office when I got there so I caught up with emails and Sam. And then Mike finally strolled in with a huge coffee and told me to meet him in his office. I walked down there like an actual zombie.

“What’s up?” I said as I sat down, trying to act natural.

“Reese. What are you working on?” he said, not bothering to look up at me.

Sometimes Mike asks this, especially during times when it made the least amount of sense, so I always have an answer prepared. And it’s not like he actually cares what I’m working on, it’s his way of being polite. So I rattled off a bunch of nonsense.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed Paige hasn’t been around,” Mike said.

And I’d been so up my own butt that I actually hadn’t noticed that I hadn’t heard from Paige in a while.

“Yes.”

“She’s on a leave of absence so she’ll be out of the business for a few weeks. Stress or some stupid bullshit. She thinks I’m too hard on her. She can’t handle it,” he explained.

Wow, wow, wow. Stress? She barely does anything!

“Okay,” I said, still processing the information.

“You’re going to have to step in since I’ll need your help these next few weeks. She left most of her stuff here so we can divvy it up, but you know I don’t have much time to spare.”

And it’s like, you think I do? And I know for a fact that Paige makes considerably more than I do so was I getting a raise for covering her while she relaxed at home? Seriously? But what was I supposed to do, refuse?

“K. I don’t really have a ton of spare time either, but I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

And then Mike finally looked at me with his cold, beady eyes and didn’t say another word. I got up and left since apparently I was dismissed.

So that’s what I did for the rest of the day: worked with Sam to try to make sense of Paige’s shit. To literally no one’s surprise, Paige is not in the least bit organized. I made it to my meeting with the architect, dragging Sam along with me because I was barely functioning, and came back to the office to finish up for the day. It was only three, but like I said… your girl was a zombie. 

I was walking back to my office after raiding Paige’s pigpen and at that moment, Mike, Thomas and Brendan walked out of Mike’s office, directly opposite. And seeing Brendan there, dressed for casual Friday in joggers, a fitted tee and a puffer jacket by NorthFace, I suddenly got hot and itchy and nauseous thinking how I knew how he looked and felt under all those clothes. And was it just me or did he look like he’d gotten a full night’s rest and showed no signs of the debauchery we’d gotten into the night before? He looked so fucking good.

Brendan lifted his hand to wave and I shut him down before he could start.

“Hi,” I said quickly, rushing past them.

I just… I was in no mood. I had no intentions of seeing Brendan that day and I especially didn’t want to interact with him in front of Mike in case things were weird. So I went back to my office, packed up and snuck the fuck out of there.

Brady and Winnie came home and I was glad to have my baby back, but also happy to have them as a distraction. Brendan and I weren’t speaking. I thought he might text me after we saw each other in passing at the office, but I heard nothing — we just sent a few memes back and forth on Instagram. And I didn’t want to fixate on it, but had hooking up ruined our relationship? I was used to Brendan texting me all the time, even when I was being moody or acting like a bitch so why not now? Maybe I’d been weird in the office, but he was being weird by not texting me like he always does. And I certainly wasn’t going to text him first. Every time I saw his face in his tiny profile picture pop up in my Instagram messages I got excited and sad at the same time.

So it seemed like a good time to pick a fight with Brady.

“So are you just going to move all of your stuff to the city so you don’t have to keep going back and forth?” I asked.

He avoided eye contact. “I’m not sure.”

“What did your lawyer say to do?” I said, snarkily.

He looked at me then. “My lawyer said it’s fine if we’re both fine.”

“I’d rather not be stuck in fucking Connecticut, you know,” I said, bringing up old shit, even though I’ve gotten used to Connecticut by now.

“Okay…”

“So maybe you should stay here while me and Winnie prance around the city.”

Brady threw his hands up. “Why are you doing this? What do you want, Reese?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like you moved us out to the fucking suburbs and then abandoned us when things got hard. You didn’t even want Winnie so you should’ve just left a long time ago,” I said.

It was such a cruel and unnecessary low blow and I could tell by Brady’s face that it really upset him. In my defense though, he should’ve known that I would throw his reaction to my pregnancy in his face one day. He didn’t say anything and stormed out of the kitchen. And later, I cried because I felt so bad for being mean.

So that made the rest of the weekend tense. I tried to smooth it over and pretend nothing happened, but Brady wasn’t having any of my shit. And I guess I couldn’t blame him. Then on Monday, Brady set up his laptop and stuff and started working from home — something he hadn’t done in a long time. He had every right to (the majority of the bills are still being paid by him) but it was still like, ugh. I’m used to him not being around.

On my way to the office, I checked my email and I saw one from Brendan.

“Reese, thanks for all the follow through. Can you please let me know when this is complete?”

And it was just so weird because that’s not even the way we speak to each other. So I spent the entire day overthinking it and analyzing everything that had happened. Was it because I told him not to check on me? Was it because I didn’t stay and sleep with him at 5AM? Was he offended by one of the memes I sent? Had his ex-wife come crawling back? What the fuck?

But then in the afternoon, I heard Brendan in the hallway laughing with Mike. He had no meetings in our office — I’d checked — so I wasn’t expecting him. I froze. There was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I called.

And Brendan stepped in, shutting the door behind him. My armpits began to sweat.

“Hiiii,” I said, saccharinely.

“Hey,” he said, smirking at my tone.

“That invoice is closed out, by the way,” I said and he raised an eyebrow. “The email you sent earlier.”

“Ah, yeah. Thanks.” We just looked at each other. He then sat down in one of my chairs and said, “Did you have a good weekend?”

Oh, you mean trolling your Instagram and fighting with my baby daddy? It was fantastic. “Yeah, good. Yours?”

“Good, too. Do you wanna talk?”

And even though I knew exactly what he was referring to and I was dying to talk about it, I said, “What about?”

“You know what about,” Brendan smiled, knowing me too well.

“I mean…” Was this really the right time and place to have this conversation?

“Are we…good?”

“You tell me. You’re the one being weird,” I said.

Brendan looked genuinely taken aback. “Me? No, you’re being weird.”

“How? You’re the one who never texted me back,” I said. And technically this was true (Brendan sent a message on Friday morning to make sure I got home okay and I’d let him know that I had), but it’s not like I’d given him anything to text back to.

“Well, after we saw each other here on Friday and you practically ran from me, I thought you needed some space,” he said.

My mouth opened and I just laughed because I couldn’t even deny it. “I was busy. Paige is on a LOA, I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“Yeah, but…okay. I just wanted to make sure you aren’t like, freaked out about what happened.”

“Brendan, please,” I said. “There’s no reason to be freaked out. We’re both adults.” 

I had, in fact, been freaked out all weekend.

He leaned back in the chair and I had to force myself not to blatantly check him out. “Okay, good. I’m sorry, I just wanted to back off a bit because I like you so much and…”

All I could focus on was him saying, “I like you so much.” And I was elated to hear him say he felt that way, but why did he have to say it to me? I’ve always been so impressed with how adeptly Brendan is able to express his feelings, but couldn’t he keep this one close to his chest? Of course we liked each other, it was obvious, but couldn’t we pretend we weren’t so sure? I was not ready to admit my feelings and especially not to him.

Anyway, we were able to squash the tension and my plan was to back off a bit because I didn’t want to develop further feelings for the dude. We went back to our normal texting, memes and lunches for a few weeks. Flirty of course, but nothing crazy. We didn’t even talk about our hookup again. At the end of the day, he was still my close friend, you know? It helped that I was swamped with work (all of Paige’s work since Mike was obviously no help) and trying to keep Winnie’s life as normal as possible.

But then one night, Brendan sent a picture of his bare leg in bed sticking out of his comforter and I jokingly texted, “I’m literally on my way.” And he sent back a virtual key to get into his apartment and…I couldn’t not go. Winnie was sleeping and Brady was in his little office working so why not? They wouldn’t even know I was gone.

So I got to Brendan’s, let myself in and found him in the bed. And then…we were up all night having sex again. It was just so amazing…to explore each other’s bodies…to find out where we liked to be touched and kissed…to be on the receiving end of Brendan’s generosity…to compete to please each other.

And…yeah. I guess that’s where we are now: being flirty friends most of the time and then having a rendezvous at his place about twice a month. No one has a clue that anything is going on, they’re so used to us being together that they can’t tell that anything has changed. Yeah, Brendan brings me tea and lunch nearly everyday, but that’s just what friends do!

And at this point, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m in love with Brendan. I love him; what do you want me to do about it? I would never tell him that, of course, not unless he said it to me first, but it’s true. It’s the way he treats me and the way he treats others, how he always leads with empathy and compassion. He’s just so kind.

And all the shit I’m used to pulling? Picking fights and yelling and acting like a petty bitch? That just doesn’t work with him. This might be terrible, but it’s almost as if you can tell he’s been married before because he will never go to sleep mad, and isn’t that like a golden rule in marriage? One time, while we were in his bed and he was kissing various parts of my body, he asked if I wanted to have more kids. I kicked him off and flipped out (who just asks that??) and he apologized and calmed me down and made me talk to him about why it was so upsetting to me. I realized that I was triggered — Brady used to talk about marriage while he was balls deep in me but never any other time so of course I didn’t want to have these conversations while being intimate.

This just feels different. I’ve never been with someone who makes me want to be a better person. Seeing how Brendan reacts to things makes me feel ridiculous, like when this girl he works with sent an aggressive email and he replied super sweetly and politely and I said I would’ve dragged her and gotten her together, he was seriously just like, “Why? What would that solve?” And it’s like, good point. Maybe I’m just getting older or I’ve learned from my mistakes, I don’t know. I realize it sounds like I’m gushing or trying to hype him up like he’s perfect. I’m not. He’s not. He can’t be, not with how we got together and how his marriage ended. He has baggage and flaws and unpredictable emotions just like I do, but I feel like at this juncture, he’s a solid match for me. I love him.

As for Brady…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll talk about him more in my next post. He’s completely shut me out and always has and I don’t think he will ever be happy until he addresses his trauma and sees a fucking therapist. Or maybe he just needs to find someone who brings out a better side of him because that definitely isn’t me.

I have one more *dRaMa* story to share, but I’ll lump that into the next post too. It’s Winnie’s birthday and Brady’s birthday coming up and my family is flying in so I’m sure I’ll have stories to talk about from that.

After his dad died, Brady became a huge asshole. Like, even more so than usual. At first, I thought my mom had talked to him even though I begged her not to. I figured she talked to him, he knew about Brendan and he was punishing me for it. But she assured me that she hadn’t said a word because she trusted me to handle the situation on my own. So this was just how he wanted to be.

Basically he was going out of his way to ignore me/saying what he wanted to say to me Winnie in a passive aggressive tone (ex. “I wonder if your mother is ever going to learn where the corkscrew goes”), coming home from “work” clearly stoned and acting like I was crazy when I mentioned it, deliberately being secretive on the phone (and I’d eavesdrop only to find out he was talking to someone about work), bringing home food for just Winnie and himself, and other petty things like that.

And honestly, I didn’t even care. I guess I figured I deserved it, after making out with Brendan in the back of a restaurant. Plus, his dad had just died — and maybe this was the only way he knew how to grieve.

Meanwhile, I was focusing on myself; putting in more effort at work (while keeping things with Brendan strictly professional), taking pilates classes geared toward working moms (eye roll), and spending time catching up with my friends. It helped that Brady was working his usual insane schedule and when he came home with an attitude, I just rolled my eyes and ignored him.

One night though, Brady was in a better mood and chatted with me about a meeting he had at work and the three of us ate dinner together and played all evening. Finally! This is how things were supposed to be. I was apprehensive, but hopeful…maybe we could be a normal family and Winnie could actually have two parents who liked each other.

Later, after the baby was asleep and we were getting ready for bed, Brady came up behind me and grabbed my hip and tried to pull me to him. I immediately jumped away because it had been so long since he’d touched me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He looked at me curiously. “What? I can’t touch my girlfriend?”

“I mean, you haven’t in months so I’m not exactly used to it. It’s weird.” And then it occurred to me that he only spent time with me that evening because he wanted to get some. The fucking nerve!

“Yeah? Why do you think it’s weird?” he said.

I started to say something snide back, but then Brady kept going.

“Is it weird because you wish it was Brendan instead?”

I just stared at him. Brendan? Brendan and I weren’t even on that level and I wasn’t even thinking of him like that (that much) so where was Brady getting this from? Had my mom finally opened her big ass mouth?

“What are you talking about?” I finally asked.

“You left your notebook out,” he explained simply.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this, but I keep a little pink Moleskin that I use to write my entire life down: lists, schedules, thoughts, ideas, etc. It’s sort of like a catch all journal and it’s super messy and personal and holds a ton of secrets (possibly even stuff about this blog) and who even fucking knows what I wrote down in there in regards to Brendan? And I almost always left it in or on my bedside table so it’s not like I “left it out.”

“You went through my notebook?” I exclaimed. 

“I didn’t know it was secret,” Brady smirked.

“Of course you did!” I screamed. “You knew exactly what you were doing and it’s such an invasion of my privacy. I feel so violated.”

I actually started crying, thinking of Brady sitting there reading my darkest thoughts.

“I didn’t mean to violate you,” Brady said, sounding matter of fact and not at all sincere. “It was just sitting out. And it’s not like you’ve never gone through my things before.”

I guess at least he hadn’t gone through my phone and text messages because if he’d read through the things I was talking to some of my friends about (and Brendan, if he scrolled back far enough), this would have been a much bigger deal.

The next morning, I reluctantly went back through my notebook to see what exactly Brady had seen. And I wanted to punch myself for not only documenting the things I did, but also leaving it out for Brady to see. But he’d never gone through my things before and I didn’t even know it was an issue.

Anyway, we had that big fight and then went back to ignoring each other. I was sure to keep my notebook close at all times and even changed all of my passwords, just in case.

I started talking to Kendra and Carly a lot more. They were both so busy in happy relationships that I didn’t really hear much from them, but with me not talking to Brady or Brendan really, I had time to actually put in effort. One day, I was talking on the phone to Kendra before Brady came home and she mentioned something about Brady contacting a lawyer and had I done so? Did I need recommendations?

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused. “What did Brady talk to a lawyer about?”

She explained that Brady had consulted his family’s attorney about Winnie and what he could and should do about our current situation and what rights he had. He’d told John everything.

“Kendra!” I exclaimed. “Why are you just now telling me about this?”

“Sorry, I completely forgot until right now,” she said.

“This is a huge deal!” I went on, realizing that Brady was going to use his family connections to try to take the baby away from me. “How can you forget?”

“Well I’m sorry, I guess it’s pregnancy brain,” she snapped back. “I’m pregnant, by the way.”

And this announcement would’ve been a lot more exciting if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb. So I said a quick congratulations before making her go back to everything she knew about Brady and the lawyer. She went over everything again: Brady contacted his family’s lawyer, told them our relationship was most likely ending and what did that mean for our baby? Oh fucking really? Our relationship was ending, but he hadn’t even bothered to talk to me about it. What a coward.

“I think you should talk to a lawyer too,” Kendra said. “If y’all do break up, you’ll hopefully settle something out of court, but I’d talk to someone just in case especially since Brady did.”

When Brady came home that night, I couldn’t even help myself. I screamed at him as soon as he walked through the door. I can’t even remember what I said, I was livid. And to my surprise, he actually stood up for himself and fought back.

“Of course I contacted my lawyer and this is exactly why!” he shouted. “We’re both miserable and if we keep this up, our kid will be too! Stop it! God!”

And even though he was totally right, it hurt to hear that being with me made him miserable.

“You’re so pathetic,” I said and then continued spewing the meanest things I could think of at him. And he just nodded his head like, “Yep, this is exactly what I’m talking about.”

The next morning, Saturday, I woke up with an emotional hangover. Brady was up and in the kitchen feeding Winnie. And lucky for him because I was ready to lay into him again.

We avoided each other as we navigated through breakfast and then Brady said, “I’m going to go into work.”

As if I gave a fuck.

“And then I’m going to stay at my parents’ in the city,” he went on, not making eye contact with me.

“Great,” I said.

“I’ll probably stay for a few days. I’m not exactly sure yet.”

“Of course,” I sneered. “Always running and hiding like a little bitch.”

You would’ve thought the threat of Brady’s family attorney would be enough to make me be a little more pleasant, but instead it made me more indignant.

Brady left and I was happy for space, but upset about everything that had transpired. I felt exactly what Brendan had described about the end of his marriage: things were said and done that cannot be taken back. There was no way Brady and I would come back from this. And as I began speaking to family attorneys, I couldn’t help feeling depressed that this was what my life had come to.

The next few weeks were rough with Brady on and off staying at her parents’ and I could tell Winnie was feeling it. And that made me even more pissed at him. And then one day he asked (super, super nicely) to take her overnight because his mom wanted to see her and wanted to take her shopping and etc. And this sent me into sort of a tailspin because I couldn’t say no — I couldn’t keep Winnie away from her daddy, she wanted to see him — and I felt guilty that we couldn’t get along and that the baby would be alone with Brady and his mother and I couldn’t protect her and who knows what Brady had told his mom and she was probably going to talk shit about me and my family and Brady for sure would not stop her. I could not believe this was happening.

So I agreed and Brady let me know they’d be back in two days. I tried not to read too much into it, thinking by “we’ll be back” he meant he was coming home and we’d be a family again, especially because I was so angry at him.

That same day, I went into the office because there was no way I could stay in the house alone. I needed to throw myself into work so I didn’t self-destruct. And since I hadn’t been in the office in a few weeks, everyone was all over me and wanting to chat, including Mike and Paige. And the distractions were welcome.

Toward the end of the day, Mike stopped by my office.

“We are going for drinks. Would you like to come?” he asked.

“Yes.” 100% I was going. I hadn’t been out for “drinks” in ages and Brendan would most likely be there — Mike always invites him out. Brendan would be the perfect distraction.

So Mike, Paige, Sam and I walked a few blocks to a small, dark cocktail bar and tapas place. And sure enough, Brendan, Thomas, and two of their associates, Aaron and Yesenia, were in a booth waiting for us. We all greeted each other and Brendan gave me a really nice, warm hug and I was suddenly so happy to be there. But as I said, things have been nothing but professional and platonic with Brendan so we all sat and chatted and drank wine. Paige, who is annoying, dominated the conversation and told stories about her husband and all the vacations she wishes they were taking. And me, I was uncharacteristically quiet, to the point where Brendan was asking me questions to try to get me involved in the conversation, sort of like he did when we first met.

Eventually though, I needed a break so I made Paige let me out of the booth so I could get up. I headed to the restroom and checked my phone, for some reason hoping to hear from Brady and Winnie. But nope, just Kendra.

“What did your lawyer say?” she asked. I’d talked to her earlier about Brady taking the baby for a few days and she told me that I should talk to the lawyer about it. Which, of course, I hadn’t because I hadn’t even hired a lawyer yet. So that completely shattered my mood and I thought maybe I should take my ass home and try to find a lawyer instead of being out drinking.

I walked out of the bathroom and Brendan was in the little, dark corridor, seemingly waiting for me.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay? You seem upset.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I tried to push past him, but he put his hands on my shoulders to stop me. “You’re not. What’s going on? Talk to me.”

I was already on the verge of tears and I was dangerously close to breaking down with him in my face like that. And if it was anyone else, his persistence would have annoyed me, but it was Brendan and I knew he genuinely just wanted to be there for me.

“It’s fine. Just…drama. I don’t really want to get into it,” I said.

“Okay…” he let me go and stepped back a bit. “How have you been otherwise?”

“Not great,” I mumbled and that’s when I burst into tears. Ugh. I should have never agreed to drinks, knowing the state I was in.

Brendan laced his hand in mine and guided us to the leather bench against the wall. And so we just sat there sitting on the bench holding hands. I felt so ridiculous for crying, but once I started I couldn’t stop. Eventually I sniffled up enough snot to choke out what was going on. I didn’t go into detail, but let him know about the lawyer stuff.

“Damn,” Brendan said. He was still clutching my hand. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

“It’s okay, I just feel bad for Winnie. She’s going to be so confused and traumatized. She probably already is,” I said and the thought made a fresh wave of tears begin.

We sat there for a few minutes not saying anything and then Brendan spoke up.

“My parents split when I was really young. But before they did, they fought all the time and it was really, really bad. It’s hard for me to remember a night when my mom wasn’t screaming at my dad or threatening him with a kitchen knife. And she would drag us into it, telling me and my sister to come listen and take sides.” He reached up to scratch his face with our hands still conjoined. “The police had to come a few times and… I’ve always sort of resented her for it.”

And while I’ve never threatened Brady with a sharp object and I always try to make sure Winnie is not around when I yell at him, I wondered, is that me? Was I literally traumatizing my baby? She’s very perceptive and smart for her age. She probably knew exactly what was happening.

“So I think, even though it sucks now, if the two of you are fighting and don’t get along, this might be the best decision. I know it’s a tough position to be in.”

“I just never thought I’d be in this position. I always thought I’d find a husband and we would have babies and be married forever,” I admitted. “So I guess this is my own fault. I tried to force it and Brady has always been like this. It’s not like he changed. It was never going to work out the way I wanted.”

“That’s okay. You’re supposed to have faith in the person you love…” He went silent and I wondered if he was speaking from experience on this too — he had faith in the relationship with his wife too, knowing it was never going to work out.

“He went through my planner and saw all the stuff I wrote about you and wasn’t happy about that,” I blurted out.

Brendan hesitated and I knew he was wondering if he should ask me to elaborate. Then he asked, “What did you write about me?”

“Just…” I shouldn’t have brought it up. It was honestly really embarrassing. “I don’t know, just stuff. Getting way too excited to have lunch with you, I guess.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Brendan smile and he squeezed my hand in his.

“You know, I’m still available for lunch anytime you want,” he said.

I smiled too. “Good because I’m going to need an old-fashioned lunch date soon.”

For some reason, after my pep talk with Brendan, I felt so much better — like the world wasn’t actually ending. Which is crazy because even my mom, a therapist, could never make me feel better. When Brady and Winnie came back, I was super happy to see them — both of them — and had them tell me about what they’d done. And my good mood put Brady in a better mood and we actually had a somewhat pleasant conversation. I wasn’t going to fight with him and coparenting didn’t need to be hard. We could handle it like adults.

So when he packed up his things the next day for another stint at his parents’ in the city, I let him know that it was unnecessary; our house is big enough for all of us and we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. And he got all squirrelly after that, mumbling something about being closer to work.

When I told Kendra about it, she said, “It might be something his attorney suggested. To try and separate himself if he’s going to try to get custody or something.”

And while this idea was frightening, I had another theory in mind. I figured he was seeing someone. It made sense — why would he willingly stay in the city, away from his baby, unless he had to? He had a girlfriend and she lived in the city. And maybe he wasn’t even staying at his parents and was staying with her. Maybe they’d been dating each other for a while and that’s why Brady was being an asshole. Maybe it was fucking Sydney. That was completely fine with me, to be honest. Brady could have a new girlfriend as long as she was nowhere near my child.

Meanwhile, I was obsessed with Brendan again. He texted me a few times to check in after drinks (he’s so fucking nice) and I wanted to cash in on that lunch date, but I was still kinda embarrassed about opening up. So I didn’t push it. We just exchanged a few texts and memes here and there.

One day though, Brendan texted me. “I’m in your neck of the woods. Wanna grab lunch?”

And clearly, he’d done some research (Reese style) and it wasn’t a coincidence that he was in my “neck of the woods” on the one day I was in the office.

“Yes.” And I immediately closed down my computer so I could get ready to meet him.

We sat down and he was polite and friendly, but way too apprehensive and formal — I was ready for things to go back to the way it was before I retreated when Brady’s dad died.

So I blurted out, “I think Brady has a girlfriend.”

Brendan looked taken aback. “Really? Why do you think that?”

I explained the whole staying in the city situation and how awkward Brady had been about it.

“I didn’t realize you’d broken up,” Brendan said.

“I mean.” I shrugged, rolling my eyes. “I guess neither of us said it, but the relationship has been over for months. We both know it.”

“Wow,” he said, still looking shocked. “Well, how do you feel about that?”

“Fine, I suppose. I don’t really feel anything. I guess if I can’t make him happy, he should find someone who does.”

“I feel like this is maybe something you should actually talk to him about. You mentioned the two of you aren’t good at communicating, but the end of a relationship seems like a pretty important thing to discuss,” Brendan said.

I waved him off, knowing he was right and wishing I hadn’t brought it up. Actions speak louder than words. Clearly the relationship was over. “I know. We will…eventually.”

“Are you really okay with him possibly having a girlfriend?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Why? Would you not be okay with your ex seeing someone new?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I would be surprised that she would be ready to move on,” Brendan said.

“Why?”

“Just…because of things she’s said.”

Recently? I wanted to ask. Were they still speaking? If they were, why did that make me feel a certain way? I had no right to feel anything.

So I changed the subject. This was not the silly, lighthearted lunch I was looking for. We didn’t talk about Brady or his ex-wife the rest of the lunch and went back to our usual banter.

Later that night, he texted me to explain himself. Their divorce wasn’t quite final yet, and she would not move on yet — because it would look bad and she’s all about optics. And so I asked if he was ready to move on.

“For the right person, yes,” Brendan said back.

I didn’t reply because I didn’t want to think about the right person being anyone other than me.

The next few weeks, things ramped up. We’d talk and text all night, go to lunch and flirt incessantly, take our Peloton classes and exchange pictures afterward. We went to lunch so often that Paige, who is hardly even in the office, noticed and commented on it. And that should have been a sign to stop, but instead I worked harder to be discrete about it.

And Brady, he was still staying back and forth in the city during the week which was completely fine, and I even started helping him pack his little weekender bag. He’d spend the weekends with us and we were cordial and friendly and it was fine. We were mature coparents. We fell into a bit of a routine and occasionally he would take Winnie overnight so she could spend time with his mother. And I was okay with that — it’s not like his mom would be around forever and I wanted Winnie to get to spend at least a little bit of time with her grandmother. Grandparents are the best.

On one of those nights, I sat around alone, texting with Brendan, doing a little bit of work and sipping wine. Our conversations were always really flirty and like…hypothetical. Like we’d talk about things we wanted to do, knowing we would never actually do them. He’d just figured out how to light his fireplace so come over to snuggle and watch a movie? Definitely! Not today, but one day…

But then he texted me, “Do you wanna come over?”

And it was 10PM on a Thursday night so no, I should stay home and behave. But before I could stop myself, before even asking any questions, I said, “Yeah.”

He got my address and ordered an Uber for me and I hopped in the shower to freshen up and then slathered myself in Brazilian Bum Bum Cream by Sol de Janiero. Was this a booty call? I thought as I got dressed in baggy jeans inspired by Emily Ratajkowski and a tight tank top with no bra. Had I just made a “dick appointment?” It was clear what was going to go down. But at no point, not while getting ready or during the 38 minute Uber ride, did I stop and think, “Maybe I shouldn’t do this.” I was doing this.

**Hi, sorry to leave another cliff hanger. I know I said last time that I would only need one more post to catch you up, but I took a longer break than intended and I don’t want this post to get too long. This already took a lot out of me. I’ll try my hardest to get the finale up later this week. xo