Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Astrid
"The only drawback is I didn't get to see it," Aria said, glee written all over her face. "But I finally got to send a glitter bomb to someone!"
Shaking my head at her, I rolled my eyes, taking solace in the steaming water surrounding my feet. For the millionth time since the night of my fashion show, I didn't know how to feel.
Did Tristan really deserve that glitter bomb at this point?
I had no idea.
That night at the after-party, I'd been too lost in the elation surrounding me to bring anyone down and tell them what had just happened between Tristan and me, so I'd kept his confession all bottled up inside, not telling a single soul.
But now?
One week and one day had passed, and what he'd said was burning a hole inside me, the need to get it out slowly killing me. And of course, my sisters were my biggest confidantes.
So even though we were currently at a plush spa for manis and pedis, supposedly relaxing in a room all to ourselves, I had to get this off my chest and tell them everything. Especially because I didn't know when else we could all get together anytime soon with our busy schedules.
"Astrid doesn't look too happy about your glitter bomb, Aria." My oldest sister gave me a sharp glance. "I think, despite everything, she's caught feelings for Tristan. You know, the classic falling-for-your-bully trope."
I stuck my tongue out at her, because she could really be a brat sometimes, making me resort to our childhood antics.
"What if he's not my bully though?" I asked, bracing myself for impact.
For a beat, the only sound was the gurgling water competing with the mellow, handpan music playing in the background.
All eyes were on me, two bodies in oversized massage chairs twisting toward me, Annalise the first to speak. "What do you mean?"
Here we go.
"What I mean is..." Oh, boy, where to start? "Tristan showed up after my show, outside the venue when I was leaving. He figured out who I am."
Shocked gasps from both of them, mouths open, eyes wide.
Right?
"How?" Annalise breathed out. "How did he figure it out?"
You know, that was a good question that I'd forgotten to ask him. "I'm not sure, honestly. But that's not even the main thing."
"There's more?" Aria asked.
"Oh, there's more."
Squirming in my chair, I did something totally unladylike and tugged at my bra. God, my boobs were so sore. Could I just start my period already?
"Astrid!" Annalise tapped me on the arm. "What else?"
My focus was all over the place lately. And no wonder after the busy week I'd had, getting everything ready for Nordstrom. All while thinking about him. It didn't help that he'd been so persistent with his apologies all week, never letting up for even a day.
"So he told me that he actually wasn't the one who put up the cow posters."
Aria let out a surprised "What?" while Annalise's eyes narrowed in confusion.
I glanced between them. "He said that Preston and Sloane were the ones who did it, that they just stowed the extras in his locker, that he had nothing to do with it all."
"Then why did he confess? Huh? Tell me that," Annalise said, her tone so similar to my lawyer dad's that it was scary. "That makes zero sense. An innocent man doesn't confess."
"Because..." I swallowed. "Apparently, he wanted to get expelled because he knew his parents would send him off to boarding school. And remember how I told you when this all started that his parents' divorce was nasty?"
They both nodded, faces rabid with curiosity.
"Well," I hesitated. "I couldn't sleep that night he told me, so I looked it all up, did some digging."
"Did you find anything?" Aria asked.
That same confusion I'd been feeling since that night—honestly, since all of this started—hit me.
"I did," I said with a sigh. "That same week, there was a DUI charge filed under his dad's name.
No details, no mugshots, just an arrest record that was sealed, probably because of who they are.
But the timeline matches. It was the day before the posters went up. "
"Oh, my God," Aria said, her expression softening. "So he took the blame for something he didn't do? To protect himself?"
I nodded. "He told me how sorry he was. That he should have told me a long time ago, but he didn't think it mattered who did it."
Annalise crossed her arms in front of her. "Or he could be lying about all of this, trying to manipulate you now that he knows who you are."
"Or maybe," Aria cut in, "just maybe he's actually telling the truth, being open and honest now that he knows who you are. Not everyone's a sociopath, Annalise."
Watching them bicker, my brain buzzed with familiar doubt because even after mulling it over for eight days, I still didn't know what to believe.
The door opened and three nail technicians in black uniforms entered. That was the end of our conversation. For now.
We all straightened a little in our chairs, giving each other looks that this discussion would definitely be continued later.
After a round of niceties and small talk, the three of us fell silent while they worked—scrubbing, filing, massaging—and I wondered if my sisters were obsessing like I was about this whole issue.
Of course, the past week had been amazing, Katie and I buzzing around the studio getting everything ready for Nordstrom, and the actual meeting had gone amazingly well. My dreams were finally coming true, and I couldn't be more ecstatic about that part of my life.
But... but everything that had happened with Tristan had thrown my personal life into complete turmoil, making me wonder if it was the universe sending me a message that it was simply impossible to have it all.
Having a loving relationship, meaningful family life, and a successful, fulfilling career, those things all at the same time could never happen for me.
Glancing at my sisters' faces, both of them glowing, a twinge of jealousy hit me. Usually, I didn't play the comparison game with them or anybody for that matter. Today was a different matter, though, because they both did have it all.
So why couldn't I as well?
Someone came in with cucumber water, and we each took a glass, thanking them. Taking a quick sip, a wave of nausea rolled over me.
Weird. I usually loved the refreshing taste of it, and I'd had it many times here.
Once again, my eyes darted to my sisters, seeing if they had any reaction to their drinks, but they both seemed fine.
Aria guzzled nearly half of hers before picking up a magazine, and Annalise drank a good amount as well.
I mentally shrugged it off. It was honestly the least of my worries.
Aria snorted softly next to me. "Okay, get this," she said. "Apparently, fish pedicures are back. Some influencer in Dubai did one with gold flakes in the tank."
"Weren't those banned?" Annalise asked. "Something about fungus?"
"Yep. I don't know if I could do it even if they were legal. Just imagine... tiny little fish nibbling on your feet like you're a cracker."
I nearly heaved at the thought, drawing two sets of eyes my way.
Aria's hand landed gently on my arm. "Astrid? You okay?"
My technician dug into a particularly sensitive spot, and it was all I could do to stay seated, the contents of my stomach a whirling vortex.
No. I couldn't be sick. This was crazy.
Closing my eyes, I sucked in a breath. And another. And yet another.
"Astrid. Seriously. What's going on?"
The woman at my feet stopped, and I could feel everyone in the room now staring at me, doing nothing to help my sudden queasiness.
Bolting from my chair, I made a run for the private bathroom just a few feet away, and fortunately made it to the sink in time for the retching.
God, I was so sick of this feeling. Always before I'd been able to keep it in. But all the stress of the past week, even though it was mostly good stress, had clearly had an effect on me, and I just needed to let it all go.
The mirror reflected my sisters' worried expressions as they both watched, one holding my hair and the other rubbing soft circles on my back.
Someone handed me a wet, warm towel and a glass of cold water, no cucumber this time, thank goodness, and I rinsed my mouth out.
The nail technicians had left, and now my sisters still watched me carefully as we re-entered the room. I had no idea what to do. Take off for home? Stay and finish the pedicure?
I did feel better actually. For now anyway.
Aria's hand met my forehead. "You're not warm. Stomach flu? Food poisoning?"
"When was the last time you had your period?" Annalise asked before I could answer Aria.
"What? Why?"
My eyes widened as the implication behind her question hit me.
No. No fucking way.
The three of us had a staring contest while the air in the room grew stifling.
No. Absolutely not.
"I... I don't remember," I stuttered out. "But you know I'm irregular."
Dead silence.
"Did you use protection?" Annalise continued her line of questioning.
"Um, mostly." Damn it.
Their eyebrows rose in the same exact way, so high it was almost comical. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to... I didn't even know.
Oh, God.
"Mostly?" Aria echoed. "What does that mean exactly?"
Just kill me now. My God.
"He—he pulled out," I whispered, mortified to admit this now. And I most certainly wouldn't tell them it was my idea. "And then he used a condom."
"Pulled out?" Annalise repeated in a shocked tone.
"I know. I know. It was literally just one thrust. One. Before the condom went on."
"And the condom... was it fine?" Aria asked. "No breakage? No slipping?"
I hesitated, my mind reeling, not cooperating as I tried my best to think back to that night.
"I... I don't know," I admitted. "I wouldn't know really. He was the one who took it off, and I didn't see it. It's not like I asked to examine it, you know?"
Annalise's lips compressed into a tight line. "So you really have no idea if it was intact."
"I mean... he didn't say anything. He would've said something, right?"
"I would guess that guys don't always know. I doubt they examine things either. And even if he did know, would he want to tell you if it broke?"
Staring at them, the nausea rose again in an overwhelming wave, this time not from my stomach, but from my chest. A hot, anxious flutter that made me break out in a cold sweat.
Was I going to be sick again?
"I don't know. I don't know," I cried out. "It's just all so stressful."
My breath came in short, sharp gasps. Was this hyperventilating? I'd never done that before.
Leaning over, I closed my eyes, and that's when I felt arms and hands guiding me to a chair, not the massage chair this time, but a different one that was easier to get in and out of, and I sank into it gratefully.
Glancing up, I saw my sisters exchange a worried glance.
Aria was the first to speak up. "Listen, no matter what, it's all going to be okay. Pregnant or not. Tristan or not. We are going to get through whatever this is together."
"Yes. Together," Annalise emphasized.
"And you know we'd be the best aunties in the world, spoil that kid rotten," Aria said with a smile.
Wait. Was that actual joy in her voice? Was she happy about this?
"Yep," Annalise agreed. "That child would want for nothing."
No, no, no. This was way too soon to talk about things like spoiling and aunties and diapers and breastfeeding and sleep deprivation and... and...
"Lean over," one of them said, "and breathe. Slow. Deep. Through your nose. That's it. In and out. In and out."
"It might just be a false alarm," Aria, I think, said.
"That's true. It might."
But there was doubt threaded through their voices.
And all the weirdness that I'd chalked up to stress and fashion week flashed through my head—exhaustion, nausea, bloating, sore breasts.
Holy crap. It all seemed to point to one thing.
And that one thing was going to rock my entire world.