Chapter 22 Gillian
GILLIAN
Alex and I delayed our honeymoon so that we could pack up my cottage and put it on the market.
I cried on the day we officially moved out, not because I was sad but because it was the end of an era.
Grace and I were no longer a family of two.
We were now part of a messy, chaotic family of five.
We’d lived in our small home for as long as we’d been mother and daughter.
Letting go was harder than I thought it would be.
But two weeks later, Grace and I had settled into Alex’s house. It still didn’t feel completely like home, but every day brought our fledgling family closer. We enjoyed summer evenings on the patio, eating Sonya’s delicious meals and spending time together.
I’d worried that Grace would feel strange in our new environment, but she seemed to take it in stride.
She and Bella had become close. They huddled together on the couch watching videos on their phones, helping each other pick out clothes, or giggling about boys—all like real sisters.
They were still careful with each other, afraid to hurt the other’s feelings, which wasn’t like most sisters.
However, all five of us seemed to have a sense of the fragility in the formation of a new family.
Thus, we were extra considerate of one another’s needs.
I wasn’t sure if it would continue that way after years together, but, for now, I thanked God every day for the sweet, compassionate people I had the privilege of going through life with.
Peter and I bonded over our shared love of puzzles.
Currently, we were working on a thousand-piece puzzle spread out in the family room on the coffee table.
We spent hours putting the pieces together, talking, and getting to know each other.
The more time we spent together, the fonder of him I became.
He was like his father—sensitive and kind but also fiercely competitive.
I became his mother while sitting in the bleachers at his baseball games, shouting my head off.
I did the same at Bella’s soccer games. Grace teased me about becoming a sporty mom, but I could see how much it pleased her to have a sister and brother.
Throwing myself into Bella and Peter’s lives at such a late point in their childhoods was necessary if we were to truly be a family.
At the same time, I made sure Grace and I had our alone time together too.
In those first few weeks of marriage, I debated the future of my career.
Alex said he would support whatever decision I made regarding the studio.
In the end, I decided it was impossible to walk away from the business I’d spent so much time and energy building.
However, now that money wasn’t an issue, I hired several new instructors, including a barre teacher for adult classes, another Pilates instructor, and a retired ballerina for the children.
After the honeymoon, I planned on teaching only three days a week.
Having so many free hours to be with Alex and our children was surprisingly satisfying, considering my ambitious and driven nature.
We left the children in Sonya’s care and took off for a honeymoon in Paris.
Alex had said I could choose wherever I wanted to go, and France had been a lifelong dream.
We spent two happy weeks exploring Paris, staying at the Ritz Paris, Suite Impériale.
I couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by the other guests—everyone so rich and privileged—but I kept that to myself.
It still seemed foreign to think of myself as the wife of a billionaire, especially because Alex was the same grounded man he’d always been.
Still, the hotel was like living in a fairytale, and I a princess.
We shopped in Le Triangle d’Or in the 8th arrondissement.
Alex had hired a personal shopper—very French and haughty—who chose clothes for me.
I had to laugh, thinking of how many hours I’d spent in leggings and workout tops when we headed back to the hotel laden with bags from Chanel, Dior, Louis Vuitton, Hermès, Saint Laurent, and Valentino.
One afternoon we had champagne at the Plaza Athénée and watched the fashionable people from the window.
Where I would ever wear half of what Alex insisted on purchasing, I had no idea.
When I brought that up to my new husband, he grinned and pulled me into his arms. “You have no idea the adventures I have planned for us.”
After Paris, we ventured down to Bordeaux and then over to Burgundy to enjoy French wine and the beautiful countryside.
We visited castles in the Loire Valley and took a bicycle tour in Saint-émilion that included lunch outside in the gardens of a beautiful chateau.
On our last night, before we were to fly home from Paris, a full moon hung low in the sky as we snuggled close on a boat that took us down the Seine.
Alex had brought us two small bottles of prosecco to sip as we looked at the sights one last time.
The boat slipped silently along the water, its wake a ribbon of silver threading through the heart of Paris.
Oh, how the city glittered. Bridges like jeweled cuffs clasping the river, lamps glowing amber along the embankments.
Beyond them, the silhouettes of spires and domes rose up, taking us back in time.
We passed under the Pont Alexandre III, its gilded nymphs gleaming in the night sky.
“It doesn’t even look real,” I said.
“A magical city,” Alex said. “With my magical girl.”
The Eiffel Tower loomed ahead, gold and glorious. As the clock struck nine, it burst into a shimmer of light. Thousands of sparks cascaded down its frame. I gasped, amazed, even though I’d seen it several times by then.
“Are you ready to go home?” Alex asked, wrapping his arm around me.
“I am. I miss the kids.”
“Me too. Although, it’s been nice to have you to myself. We should make it a priority to go someplace new every year.”
“It would be hard to beat this trip.”
“Challenge accepted,” Alex said.
“Do you know what I would love?”
He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “My beautiful wife, tell me.”
“If we took the whole gang somewhere. Kids too. For a few weeks.”
“Like a chateau in Tuscany? Or a house on the Amalfi Coast?”
“Maybe the south of France?” I asked.
“Anywhere you and your friends want to go, I’ll make it happen.”
“Maybe a riverboat cruise through Europe?”
We chatted happily about all the places we could go with our friends and the kids. My chest warmed with gratitude, thinking about the future and how much fun life with Alex would be.
By the time we returned to Willet Cove, I was more than ready to see the kids and tell them all about our adventures.
But on the plane home, I started to feel nauseous.
I wrote it off as motion sickness. However, it continued during our drive from San Francisco.
Once, the car had to stop so I could vomit on the side of the road.
“Was it something they fed you on the plane?” Alex asked.
“It must be,” I said.
I started to feel better by the time we pulled up the driveway to Alex’s house—my house now, too, I reminded myself.
The kids came running out, hugging us and telling us how happy they were we were home.
We went inside to the scent of garlic and onion from whatever Sonya was making on the stove.
Suddenly, I felt ill again. I ran to the bathroom to throw up. Again.
When several days passed and I was still feeling unwell, I texted my friends to apologize for missing our weekly dinner at The Pelican.
Gillian
I’m still fighting this stomach bug.
Esme
Have you taken a pregnancy test?
Delphine
Are you guys using birth control?
Gillian
Of course! Although there was one night when the condom … broke. The night we got married, actually.
Seraphina
Yeah, you need to take a test.
Lila
Oh my heavens.
Gillian
I’ll text you later after I get the result. I’m sure it’s just the flu.
An hour later, I stood in the bathroom, barefoot on the cool tile, staring down at the little white stick on the counter. My hands were shaking as I waited.
When two lines appeared, clear and undeniable, my breath caught.
Oh my God. I was pregnant.
I thought back to the first night we’d spent together as a married couple and that broken condom. I’d dismissed it as unlikely since I’d only just had my cycle. Ovulation was a week or so away. Then, I’d put it out of my mind completely. Until now.
For years, I’d told myself that Grace was my miracle, my one chance at motherhood. I’d long ago made peace with it. And yet, here it was, another small miracle blooming inside me. A baby. Alex’s baby.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror with one hand pressed against my still-flat stomach.
How would the kids react? We’d only just become a family.
Would they feel displaced? Would this change everything we’d worked so hard to build?
But beneath the worry, joy bubbled up, unexpected and overwhelming. A baby. Our baby.
Slipping the test into the pocket of my robe, I went into the bedroom, where Alex was reading in bed.
“Hey, you okay?” Alex asked, looking up from his book. “Still feeling sick?”
“Yes, but that’s not all.”
He set aside his book and swung his legs to the floor, getting up to meet me, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “What’s wrong?”
I started crying and smiling and shaking all at the same time. “You won’t believe it.” I pulled the test from my pocket and showed it to him. “Two pink lines. Do you know what that means?”
For a beat, he just stared at the test, his eyes moving from the pink lines to my face and back again. Then his face crumpled, and tears spilled down his cheeks. “We’re having a baby?”
“Yes.” My voice broke on the word.