Emery [bxb]

162

By week thirty-two, Aly has a four-pound cantaloupe weighing down her belly.

I'm doing groceries for them when I run into an old girlfriend at the grocery store. Seeing her, I begin to feel pangs of nostalgia and self-consciousness about the time slipping through my fingers. Especially when I find out that she's now engaged, and most of my friends and acquaintances have been married at least once. She shows me her hand and I offer a tired smile in response.

"Oh, good for you."

"Yeah... He even talks."

I nod, lips pursed. "What about you? I hardly know what's going on in your life anymore now that you barely ever post on Instagram."

"What would I post about? Insurance? Inflation? Gas prices?"

"No more parties?"

"Too tired to party. Don't feel the urge as badly anymore at thirty as I did when I was twenty, anyway."

"You're not modelling anymore?"

"I was. But I'm not feeling it anymore." I used to think I needed to be seen. Maybe the only person I really, truly wanted to model for is Emery.

"What happened to you? You're so serious now."

"I've been working hard in the hospital."

"That's gotta be stressful."

"Oh, yeah. You don't wanna know the things I've seen."

She purses her lips in a sympathetic smile.

"I can only imagine."