Epilogue

I push through the crowds of Boylston Street until I get to the cross street. I
pull the stroller to a crawl and then stop at the edge of the curb. I pull the
top of it back and look down at Emmy. She’s kicking her feet and smiling
like usual. She’s a very happy baby. She has a calm energy about her and
it’s addictive.
“How old is she?” a woman asks. She’s standing at the crosswalk with
us, staring down at Emerson appreciatively.
“Eleven months.”
“She’s gorgeous,” she says. “Looks just like you. Identical mouths.”
I smile. “Thank you. But you should see her father. She definitely has his
eyes.”
The sign flashes to walk, and I try to beat the crowd as we rush across
the street. I’m already half an hour late and Ryle has texted me twice. He
hasn’t experienced the joy of carrots yet, though. He’ll find out today just
how messy they are, because I packed plenty in her bag.
I moved out of the apartment Ryle bought when Emerson was three
months old. I got my own place closer to my work so I’m within walking
distance, which is great. Ryle moved back into the apartment he bought, but
between visiting Allysa’s place and Ryle’s days with Emerson, I feel like
I’m still at their apartment building almost as much as I’m at mine.
“Almost there, Emmy.” We make a right around the corner and I’m in
such a rush, a man has to step out of our way and into the wall just to avoid
being plowed over. “Sorry,” I mutter, ducking my head and making my way
around him.
“Lily?”
I stop.