The Boss Project by Vi Keeland

I was in no mood to converse. I shook my head.

“How long have we been friends?” he said.

“Too long,” I grumbled.

“Then you should know by now that I’m not going anywhere until we talk it out.”

“I can barely keep down the Motrin you just gave me. I’m not up for conversation.”

“It’s alright.” He shrugged. “I’m in no rush.”

Great. He’s here for the long haul.

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit and wait for the headache to subside? I have some emails to answer anyway.”

I would’ve preferred he just disappear, but I’d take silence if that was all I could get. So I did what he said and laid back down on the couch, propping my feet up on the armrest and shutting my eyes. I was in and out of consciousness for a while after that, until the sound of a bag crumpling opened one eye.

“Any better?” Will asked.

I swung my legs down to the floor and sat up. It felt like a Mack truck had run me over, then backed up and run me over a second time in reverse, but the Motrin seemed to have taken the edge off the pounding in my head, at least.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “You got that Gatorade?”

Will held it out, along with a banana.

Twenty minutes later, I still didn’t feel like talking, but at least I was capable of it. Will had finished his sandwich, kicked off his shoes, and had his feet propped up on a corner of the coffee table with his arms spread wide across the top of the couch.

“What’s going on, my friend?”

I sighed. “I ran into Aaron Jensen.”

“Okay…”

“He had Eloise with him.” I’d been looking down at the ground but raised my eyes to meet Will’s. “She’s deaf.”

Will frowned. “But she’s okay, otherwise?”

I shrugged. “She has braces on her legs, and her…” I couldn’t bring myself to call him her father, even after three years. “Aaron was signing to her.”

Will digested the information. “Okay, well, you knew there was a possibility she might have hearing deficits and some developmental issues. That’s tough, but doesn’t mean she won’t be able to live a perfectly happy life.”

I closed my eyes and pictured her in the shopping cart. The face had haunted my thoughts so much that not even drowning in alcohol could stop it. “She looks just like Amelia.”

Will was quiet a long time. “You need to nip this shit in the bud before you blow things with Evie.”

I looked up at him.

Will shut his eyes. “Shit. You already did.”

“I fucking did this to Eloise.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know if that’s her name anymore.”

“Did what to Eloise?”

“Everything. It was the choices I made that killed her mother and caused her to be born prematurely. If I’d just let nature take its course…”

Will’s face wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”

“You know I made all of the medical decisions for Amelia and the baby.”

“Yeah, and?”

“She went into labor from a drug I approved giving her.”

“Yeah, because the team of doctors treating her recommended it. I know you’re a smart dude, but you didn’t go to four years of medical school and do eight years of residency like the neurologists did. Not to mention, there’s no proof that the medicine caused her to go into labor early. Her body was giving out long before that.” He shook his head. “Things happen. Women who aren’t in plane crashes go into early labor and have babies with far more issues. There’s shit in life we can’t control.”

I heard Will talking, but I was too distracted by the memories flashing through my mind to really listen to him. One, in particular, was the hardest to tune out. It was the day I’d found out my daughter wasn’t my daughter. I’d left the hospital to wallow in self-pity marinated in vodka and come back to an empty bed.

“I didn’t say goodbye to her,” I choked out.

Will stared at me as tears rolled down my cheeks. “What do you mean, you didn’t say goodbye? I was outside the room when you held her—” He stopped abruptly. “Shit. You don’t mean Eloise, do you? You’re talking about Amelia. This isn’t just about the baby.”

A few minutes passed without either of us talking. Eventually Will sat up. He took his feet from the coffee table and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Do you love Evie?”

I wiped my tears and nodded. “I do.”

“Then you need to figure out a way to move on.”

I thought I had moved on…until I saw Eloise’s sweet face. “How do I fucking do anything now?”

“You stop letting things from your past destroy your future. I’m no shrink, but I think the first step is letting it out. It’s been three years, and this is the first time you’ve let the emotions in. After Amelia died, you came back to work a few days later like nothing happened. You can’t erase people from your heart to move on.” He tapped his fingertips to his chest. “You have to accept that they’re always going to have a piece and let it heal as best it can. A person who loves you will take your heart, scars and all.”