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marble fireplace graced the center of one wall with a large flat-screen television set centered above it. The rest of the wall space was filled with shelves. Shelves and shelves—a booklover’s dream. Except that only one small section near the desk had any books on it.
    “Uh, yeah. These boxes are barely going to put a dent in that shelf space.”
    “He ordered more, but this is what was already in stock. The rest should come in the next few days or so. And, yes, he’ll still have a lot of empty space. Maybe you can help him fill the rest.”
    Was that supposed to be a leading statement? Was she trying to get me to open up about Hudson?
    If she wanted to know, she’d have to come out and ask. I responded to her statement with a simple, “Maybe.” I joined her in pushing the boxes into a line against the wall, doing a count of them as I did. Twenty-seven in total. Guess I knew how I was spending my afternoon. Unpacking books—the thought had me more excited than it should.
    I nudged the last box into line with the others and turned to find Celia staring at me, arms crossed over her chest, one light brow cocked. “So. You and Hudson.”
    “Yeah. Crazy, right?” Celia had only ever been nice to me. Why was this so awkward?
    “It’s real then? You’re really together?”
    “We are. No more pretending. It’s the real deal now.” It felt strange to say that. With other relationships my declarations were most likely exaggerations. Was I exaggerating now?
    No. I wasn’t. This was real.
    “Since when?” The question didn’t sound disbelieving, but curious. Excited, even. “I was with him Monday and he didn’t say anything had changed between you, though he did seem awfully lovesick. I thought he was being moody about his business-whatever that was going on. But now that I see you here, I’m thinking it was about you.”
    Celia had driven Hudson from his parents’ house in the Hamptons to the airport for his business emergency with Plexis. “Just since yesterday. When he came back from Cincinnati, we sort of had it out and then—” I suddenly realized the source of the awkwardness. Though Celia and Hudson hadn’t ever been together for real, she had thought she loved him. I had no reason to be jealous of her, but she had plenty reason to be jealous of me. “Is this weird for me to talk about?”
    “Weird? Why?” Her face relaxed with understanding. “Oh, he told you.”
    “He did.” I wasn’t sure how she’d feel knowing I knew such intimate details of her life. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”
    “No, not at all. It surprises me. He’s never talked about it with anyone. I’m not even sure he told his therapist.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “What exactly did he say? Do you mind me asking?”
    “Of course not, it’s only fair I tell you. But can we sit down first?” Maybe sitting would get rid of the confrontational feeling between us.
    She nodded and we made our way to the sofa. I sat facing her, my legs curled up underneath me. “Well. He, um, explained about how he, uh, made you fall for him and then slept with your best friend. He said it was all a game. Which makes sense now, how you knew that he did that to women.” Celia had been the one who’d filled me in on Hudson’s mind games.
    “Yep. I spoke from experience.” Her voice had lost some of its usual cheerfulness, but nothing seemed to indicate that talking to me was painful or unpleasant.
    Her ease helped me go on. “And he told me about the baby.”
    I watched her chest rise and fall before she responded. “What did he say about that?”
    “That you didn’t know who the father was, so he said it was his. So you wouldn’t be disowned or disgraced or whatever. Since he felt responsible for the situation.” Even though none of the information was new to Celia—she’d lived it, after all—a part of me felt guilty for sharing things Hudson had told me in confidence.
    Another part of me,