Oliver and I are lying on the sand outside of the guest house, looking at the stars. He sits up on his elbow, and turns my face towards his. “You’re upset about your father aren’t you?”

I turn my head away from him, and stare into the black sky. “Yes, but I feel so foolish for it. I should have already known. My mother was always there, like any normal mother. I didn’t have nannies for ninety percent of the day. I wasn’t calling the servants ‘mommy’. But, my father was always too busy for me.”

Oliver sighs. “If it means anything, I promise that I’ll be a hands-on dad. Our kids will never be able to say that their dad was too busy.”

“But Oliver, you’re in a band. You tour. How can you say that? You’ll be just as busy as my father is.” Oliver places a finger over my lips. “Dreamy, I promise. A chlid that’s part me and part you, the woman that I love more than life itself, will never feel like I’m too busy for them. Ever.”

I put my hands over my face and begin to cry, and Oliver just holds me.