After Gemma left, I had myself a little dance party. Her visit made me so happy, I couldn’t contain myself. I’d only been mourning Hunter for two days, but it felt like an eternity and I thought I’d never smile again—at least not until the baby was born. I would always miss Hunter, but I didn’t need to drown in tears to prove it. He wouldn’t want to see me moping around, anyway. My cheeky little tramp will always live rent-free in my heart.
All that dancing worked up an appetite, so I ate Ali’s butternut squash gnocchi. Or I tried to. The nausea was kicking my tail, and I couldn’t wait for the second trimester to arrive. I had about two more hours, so Shiloh and I went for a very long walk.
