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said.
    “No, I . . .”
    “Honestly, Tracy, I haven’t the foggiest fucking idea why you feel the need to be such a . . .”
    He broke off and said nothing. Tracy stared at him, the tears beginning anew.
    “Say it,” she prompted.
    Brendan turned to leave the room.
    “A bitch,” she finished for him. “That’s what you were about to say, right? Why do I feel the need to be such a bitch ?”
    Brendan turned to look at her again, this time he looked tired, defeated. “Bottom line is you don’t always treat people well, Tracy. And that’s something I value. Treating people well even when you don’t have to, even when there’s nothing in it for you.”
    “Well then I guess that means I’m not an appropriate partner for you!” she snapped. “Not someone you would want to meet your family ! Not someone you want to marry or . . .”
    Brendan’s eyes squinted in confusion, and Tracy knew that the sudden sharp turn their conversation had taken perplexed him. It perplexed her as well in some ways, because she hadn’t realized until just that moment how much it bothered her. The fact that he hadn’t proposed or even implied that he might in the two years they’d been together was one thing, but beyond that, he had never—not even once—suggested that he take her to meet his parents in North Carolina, even though he’d met most of her family.
    She lived with him, celebrated holidays with him . . . and she had never once even spoken to either of his parents on the phone . And now here she was, like a million other stupid and misguided women in relationships before her—pregnant with no hint of a permanent commitment on the horizon. What she had was the illusion of a commitment, not a real one.
    “What the hell are you talking about now?” Brendan said, looking up at the ceiling.
    Tracy got off the bed and headed toward the bathroom, grabbing her purse as she went and sliding some toiletries into it. Brushing past him, she went to the closet and pulled on her jeans. All the while, Brendan watched her with that exasperated look he always got when she flew off the handle and he had no clue why.
    Just as she was grabbing an overnight bag from the shelf in the closet (which was wholly for dramatic effect, since she had ample of both clothing and toiletries at the townhouse in Brooklyn), Brendan grabbed her from behind about the waist with both arms, pulling her back into a bear hug. Tracy struggled for a moment and then settled into the embrace, going limp in his arms and bursting into noisy tears.
    Brendan held her like that, waiting through her cry, saying nothing, both of them in the closet, the overnight bag at their feet. Finally, Tracy let Brendan turn her around and pull her against his chest, as her tears and heaves subsided. He sighed and threaded his fingers through her loose hair, his large hand holding the back of her head, pressing her closer against him.
    “What’s really going on?” he asked.
    “Nothing,” she mumbled into his chest. She couldn’t tell him now. This was happy news—at least for her—and they were definitely not having a happy moment.
    “You came to my office for a reason . . .”
    “I didn’t say I came for a reason . . .”
    “You didn’t need to say it. I know you.”
    Tracy considered that for a moment. He did know her. Perhaps even more than anyone else. Riley was her best friend, but there was a nakedness that she had with Brendan—literal and figurative—that she had never had with another living soul.
    “I have . . . something to tell you,” she admitted, her voice so quiet, even she almost couldn’t hear it.
    Brendan pulled back a little and tipped her chin so she was looking at him, waiting for her to speak.
    “I’m pregnant,” she said.
    And for the first time since she’d known him, Tracy saw Brendan rendered absolutely speechless.
     
    ________
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Mistake
     
    Basketball downtown. Back by two.
    Brendan