The therapist's exercises were helping, Emma realized. A month ago, this conversation would have devolved into argument, with positions hardening on both sides.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For hearing me."
"Always," Alek promised. "Even when it's hard."
The baby shower venue—a private room at Boston's most exclusive hotel—glittered with tasteful decorations in blue and gold. Emma smoothed her dress nervously as she and Alek approached the entrance.
"We can still leave," Alek murmured, his hand warm at the small of her back.
"No," Emma straightened her shoulders. "We're doing this."
Inside, the party was already underway. Immaculately dressed guests clustered in conversation groups, champagne flutes in hand. At the center of it all stood Veronica, somehow making advanced pregnancy
