Chapter 32 Beatrice
BEATRICE
Istand on tiptoes in front of the only mirror in my apartment in a lame attempt to see all of me.
It’s pointless; I can only see down to my waist. But it’s enough to tell me that my body is not as it was the last time I wore this dress.
My boobs are barely contained by the floral fabric, and the zipper…well…if it doesn’t bust open by the end of the night, I’ll be amazed.
I look down my body, searching for any sign of an obvious bump, but thankfully, the fabric is loose enough around my belly that nothing can be seen.
Not that I’ve really got a bump. I just look like I’ve eaten one too many takeouts, which isn’t entirely untrue.
But unlike my usual go-to takeout, what Everett has been sending me is healthy and perfectly balanced, so I’m eating like a queen.
I run my hand over my belly, wondering for the millionth time what I might look like in a few months’ time.
I’m hopeful that, at some point, I might actually start to glow.
That’s what’s meant to happen to pregnant women, isn’t it?
Well, I feel anything but glowing. I’ve started feeling nauseous pretty much twenty-four-seven.
Add that to the exhaustion that I can’t shake and the emotional rollercoaster I’m constantly on, and quite honestly, I feel about five seconds from a breakdown at all times.
But despite being nauseous, I’m always hungry. No, not just hungry. Ravenous. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I’m constantly eating, but it never quite hits the spot.
I know the girls at work have started to notice that something is up. I’ve caught them watching me more than they usually would. And it would be impossible to miss that I’m always snacking on something.
But despite their obvious suspicion, I haven’t said anything, and they haven’t asked.
Tonight, though, I’m going to have to confess.
While it might be my life that is about to be turned upside down, I can’t ignore the fact that it’s going to affect all of them as well.
After applying a final layer of gloss to my lips, I pop the tube into my purse and slip my feet into my pumps. Just like my dress, they’re a little tight, reminding me I need to go ugly-shoe shopping.
Refusing to dwell on the situation, I check my rideshare app and head out.
I just walk through the front doors when my ride pulls up.
I climb in the back, confirm my destination, and then message our group chat to let them know I’m on my way.
As if they’re waiting for me, everyone reacts to my message as the car takes off.
I’m looking forward to tonight. We haven’t had a girls’ night since Sienna’s birthday. This one is going to be quieter, though. There will be no hockey, no players, no alcohol, and no clubs. We’re going for a nice dinner and then to the theatre.
Despite being confident that the girls will support me no matter what, I can’t stop the nerves from erupting in my stomach the closer I get to the restaurant. And as the driver pulls up outside, I’d be lying if I said my palms weren’t a little clammy.
I climb out with my head held high, telling myself that I’ll just walk in there and tell them. Easy.
But the second I step inside and see them across the restaurant, all my confidence shrivels and emotion crawls up my throat.
Please, God, no. Tonight isn’t the night for emotional outbursts.
“Hi,” I say to the host. “I’m meeting the girls at the back there.”
She leads me over, and the closer I get, the more my skin prickles with attention.
Sienna is probably busy categorizing all the changes in my body. But she knows. She understands. What are the others thinking?
“You look incredible,” Sienna says, pushing to her feet to hug me. “Have you sent him a photo? He’ll lose his shit,” she says just for me to hear.
“Absolutely not,” I hiss back as I hold her a little longer than necessary.
“Well, if you don’t, I will.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warn as we part and I find my seat.
“We already ordered drinks,” Lessy says, happily sipping on what I assume is a pornstar martini. “So good,” she sighs happily.
My eyes drop to my matching cocktail, and I panic.
I can’t drink that.
I startle when a foot collides with my shin beneath the table.
I look up and find Sienna watching me with a soft smile on her lips. ‘It’s okay,’ she mouths.
I nod and happily reach for my drink.
While I might be grateful for her intercept, there’s a part of me that wishes she hadn’t, so I had to rip the Band-Aid off.
“Good, right?” Savvy asks once I’ve sipped my virgin pornstar martini.
“Mmm,” I mumble. I’m not lying. It is good. It’s just…well, it’s not a pornstar martini. Silently, I grieve for everything I’m missing out on right now. I’m not a big drinker, but I can’t deny that I do love a cocktail with my girls.
The conversation turns to the menu and what everyone is having. But despite looking at what they have, I don’t see any of it.
Instead, the words I need to say to those closest to me circle through my head until I can bear it no more.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt, scaring myself in the process.
Silence descends on the table as Sienna’s foot finds my leg again, giving me a supportive nudge.
Time seems to stand still as I wait for their reactions.
Tears burn my eyes, my throat clogging with emotion that I wish would fuck off. But it doesn’t. In fact, it only gets worse when Rachel, Savvy, and Lessy all breathe a heavy sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank God, I wasn’t sure I could pretend we didn’t know any longer,” Rachel confesses. “Congratulations, Bea. We’re so excited for you.” She leans over and pulls me into a hug. And that’s it. The tears come.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just…don’t know what I’m doing,” I wail, reaching for my napkin to catch my tears before they totally ruin my makeup. Honestly, I don’t know why I bothered putting any on. I’m like a freaking water fountain these days.
“It’s okay,” Lessy says, reaching across the table for my hand. “You don’t have to apologize to us. We’re here for you, Bea. And as Rachel said, we’re excited.”
“That’s good, because I’m fucking terrified,” I confess brokenly. “I was just finding my feet again and—”
“Someone swept you off them?” Savvy supplies.
Everyone bursts out laughing.
“Oh God,” I whimper, continuing to dab my eyes. “This is a disaster.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Lessy says.
“I’m not ready to be a mom. I can barely look after myself.”
“It might not be planned, but someone up there decided it was to be the next chapter of your life,” Savvy says. “It could be the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
“It’s certainly the most unexpected. Two types of protection. Two,” I say, holding up my fingers just in case they’ve forgotten how to count. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
“So…we might have figured it out. But we don’t know who the owner of the super sperm is.”
A giggle erupts as Rachel says those two words, my conversation with Everett coming back to me.
“Of course, we all know who we want it to be because…swoon…but we’re trying not to jump to conclusions.”
They might have left by the time I hooked up with Everett that night, but they know all about it.
I didn’t have a reason to keep it a secret, other than it being a moment of madness that probably shouldn’t have happened.
They were all beyond excited that I’d taken Everett Donnelly for a ride, and equally as jealous, wanting to know if all the stories about him were true.
But the truth is, he’s even more talented than any news article has written about.
Lifting my drink from the table, I mumble, “I’ve only slept with one man this year,” behind it.
“I knew it,” Lessy shouts before immediately apologizing to the table next to us for her overexcitement. “Oh my god. You’re having Ever—”
“Shush,” I hiss.
“Sorry, sorry. But you are, right? He’s your baby daddy.”
A smile finds its way onto my lips as I think about his contact in my cell.
“Yeah, he’s my baby daddy,” I say through my grin.
“Oh my god, look at her face. Is something going on?” Lessy asks.
“Aside from him buying us all coffee every morning and sending you food deliveries,” Rachel points out.
“Hey, I said I was ordering those,” I argue.
“Yeah, but none of us believed you.”
“Rude,” I laugh.
“We love you, Bea. But we know you didn’t suddenly decide to buy us all coffee daily,” Savvy says.
“I might have,” I sulk.
“Well, we appreciate it,” Rachel explains.
“So…back to my question,” Lessy says. “Is something going on with the two of you?”
I take a sip of my drink as I try to find a way to word what we’re doing right now.
“We’ve hung out a couple of times. We’ve been messaging.”
“Oh my god,” Lessy squeals, clapping her hands together like a seal.
“Calm down. Nothing is going on,” I assure them. “He’s just…being present.” But as I say the words, the lie within them tastes bitter on my tongue.
He isn’t just being present because he wants to be. He’s following orders to help fix his rep and preserve his career.
My stomach knots. He’s using me. Or at least, he wants to. But…if I agree to this, put a few of my own stipulations in place, aren’t I going to be doing the same?
We could both get what we want out of our partnership, and then when it’s over…
Pain sears through my chest. Once it’s over, once he’s got himself on level ground, will he just drop us and move on?
My chest tightens, and I struggle to suck in the air I need.
“Bea?” Sienna questions.
“I’m okay. I…just…I’m just going to use the restroom.”
I’m out of my seat and rushing toward the back of the restaurant in seconds.
“Oh my god,” I gasp as I crash into the ladies’ room.
I don’t go into a stall; instead, I pace back and forth in front of them as my head spins with possibilities.
Will I go through all this with him by my side, for him just to drop us a few months down the line? Am I setting myself up for heartache, not just for me, but for my child? I can’t agree to this, knowing he’ll be part of our lives for only a short time before leaving us. Can I?
But I would have him now. He could hold my hand through all the unknowns that are going to be thrown at me in the coming months.
But Sienna could do that.
It’s not the same, though.
And maybe he wouldn’t leave us. Maybe his new reputation of being a family man would mean he’d stick around. But…would he resent us?
What would happen when he eventually meets someone and starts his own family with her? Would we be pushed to the periphery, or would he include our child in his life?
“You need to breathe,” Sienna says, stepping into the restroom and looking at me with concern in her eyes.
“I can’t…I can’t…I don’t know what I’m doing, Si. All of this…telling them…it’s real…it’s fuck…”
She grips my upper arms, stopping me from pacing.
“Yeah, it’s real. But it’s all going to be okay. No matter what, you’ve got us, and your little one will be so loved, Bea. You never need to worry about that.”
But I am worried. Suddenly, I’m worrying about everything, because all I want to do is give my little one the best start in the world. But what is the best start? And even if it starts well, what use is it if it all goes up in smoke in six months?