Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
When the stomach spasms subside, I slowly pick myself up off the floor and make my way to the sink. I’m chalky pale and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. My hands hold a slight shake as I wash them twice, blotting both hands and my face with a dry paper towel. I have no clue what came over me, but I just pray it isn’t a stomach bug. The last thing I want is to get Milo, or even Sophia or my sister, sick.
With unsteady legs, I make my way back to our booth, not hungry in the slightest. “Are you okay?” my sister asks, holding Milo in the crook of one arm, feeding Sophia some applesauce with her other hand, and still managing to steal green beans in between. “You don’t look so good.”
“I think I have the flu,” I tell her, falling into the booth and resting my head against the cool plastic seat.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re knocked up too.”
Her words stop my heart. I lift my head and meet her eyes, a knowing smirk on her face. “I’m not,” I reassure her. “I just pray I didn’t just give you and Sophia what I have.”
Gwen laughs. “Sorry to tell you, I already have what you have,” she teases, rubbing her stomach.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“No?”
“No. It’s just… this is all happening so fast. I’m supposed to start my period today.”
She glances down at the sleeping baby in her arms and says, “If you say so.” Then she starts to shovel more applesauce into my niece’s mouth, not bothering to bring back up the whole pregnancy bombshell again.
A few minutes later, my stomach settles and actually growls. I know my sister heard, but she doesn’t call me on it. I’m quiet as I pick at the bun on my sandwich, thankful that the bread seems to stay down. When the server returns and offers me a box, I decline, knowing I’m not planning to eat the chicken later either.
Gwen pays the bill while I get Milo strapped back in his seat. When she returns, she does the same with her daughter, and a few minutes later, we’re back in her SUV. “Do you know what would be amazing?” she asks as she drives toward Chase’s house.
“What?”
“If we were pregnant together. Do you remember when we were little and used to play house? We always wanted to have our babies together so they’d grow up and be best friends.”
A ping of something that feels like excitement mixes with my denial as I picture those moments of two little girls playing house. Gwen was always the teacher, while I was something a bit bossier like a lawyer. “I remember,” I tell her, a small smile on my face as my hand drops to my stomach.
No. I won’t allow myself to go there.
I’m not pregnant.
My phone chimes with a text message, and when I pull it from my purse, a wave of happiness sweeps through me when I see his name.
* * *
Chase: I talked to my mom and dad without telling them the news. They just got home last night from their cruise and invited us for dinner. Mom said she has a surprise for me. I need you there with me.
* * *
I fire off a reply immediately.
* * *
Me: I’m there.
* * *
Chase: Thank you. Are you home yet?
* * *
Me: Almost. Gwen’s about to drop us off.
* * *
Us. How much longer will I be able to refer to Milo and me as an us?
* * *
Chase: I’m getting ready to leave now. Maybe we can nap before we head to my parents’?
* * *
I yawn at the thought.
* * *
Me: Sounds good.
* * *
Chase: Love you, Gabs.
* * *
I smile down at my phone and reply right away.
* * *
Me: Love you too.
* * *
“You’re smiling. That must be Chase,” my sister says, pulling my nose from my phone.
Shoving my phone back into my purse, I reply, “It was. We’re going to take a much-needed nap when we get home.”
“Mmhmm, nap, sure. Is that what all the cool kids are calling it these days?” she teases.
A few minutes later, Gwen pulls into the driveway. As I’m getting Milo from the back seat, Chase’s big truck pulls in and parks behind my garage bay. He jumps out, instantly taking the infant seat from my hand. Chase smiles down at the wide-awake little boy and says something I don’t quite hear. I grab the diaper bag and head over to the driver’s door.
“Thank you for inviting us to crash your photo session, and congrats on the other thing,” I whisper. I’m not sure if Harrison has told Chase yet, so I try not to spoil their secret before they’re ready to share. No, I won’t keep it from him, but I don’t want to spill the beans if they have a big announcement to make.