20. Sutton #2
I laugh and consider her insistence, drumming my fingers on my knee. When appetizers arrive, we plate out tomato salad and eggplant parmesan. I’m then promptly handed my gifts.
“I’m not supposed to tell you, but the office is arranging a gift. There is the HR one and then one from the colleagues who care. Your favorite manager actually wanted to contribute a little extra,” Elodie informs me.
My forehead crinkles. “Really? Did the seas part or something?”
We chuckle, a warm relief softening my nerves, before I dip my hand into the bag to reveal my first gift: a box with different balms for pregnancy, labor, and the newborn phase—a small comfort for me.
When I discovered another gift, maternity lace lingerie, my face went cherry red with surprise.
Then there were a few adorable outfits, including a onesie with numbers for each week old, which made me gasp and laugh.
Lunch was fun, filling me with gratitude and lightness—just what I needed.
It’s no wonder that we all reflected on how funny it is that three friends from Everhope all ended up with three men who are friends, colleagues, and want to give us the world in ways we never envisioned.
We toasted to it, very aware of how lucky we are.
When lunch wrapped up, Elodie had to leave to get home to Lola. I wait inside while Savannah is in the bathroom. Even with the valet awning, it’s cold, and the rain today is falling hard.
Waiting, I balance the few bags that I have, adjusting their weight on my arms. I’m redistributing the bags on my arms when I hear a masculine voice.
“Sutton.”
My attention snaps up to see Patrick entering the room. I smile, pleasantly surprised, my lips curving as I meet his gaze. I don’t know enough about him other than that he will be this baby’s family.
“Oh, hey.”
“I’m here to meet some buddies. We had a squash game, but we normally head here after. Are you leaving?” he asks as he reaches over to help adjust the small bag slipping off my wrist.
“Yeah, I had lunch with some friends.” I shift one foot back, getting my balance as I juggle the bags. “They were intent on giving some gifts. I’m just waiting on the driver,” I explain.
He nods slowly, his eyes pinned on me; he seems to be formulating a theory. Most of the time, I’m able to read people, a gift from law school.
“You know, it’s great that you and Foster are married and a baby is on the way.” I hold my smile as I wait for him to say more because I feel it coming. “A lifesaver on the bizarre clause situation. I guess he told you about it,” he not-so-casually mentions as he swipes his thumb across his jaw.
An instinct has me straightening my posture and looking directly at him, needing to show I’m unaffected. “He did. It’s a little crazy. Guess fate decided to step in.”
A sly smirk begins to form, almost calculating.
“I guess it did. Foster isn’t one to give in easily, but damn it, it took me off guard that he ensured he had a baby by the end of the year.
It’s good that fate stepped in right when it did.
” His scoff is concerning, and my body begins to feel uneasy.
“I mean, I was like, fuck, do a surrogate or make an arrangement with someone. But fate, right? Not like he got you pregnant on purpose so that we actually get to retain control of the company. Time was ticking.”
A weird seed begins to sprout in my head.
I try to hold my face steady. “Time?”
His chin lifts slightly, studying me, and then a pin seems to drop. “Oh shit. Did he miss that detail?” Patrick actually seems taken aback that I don’t seem to be aware. He reads through the facade of my emotionless face.
“Humor me,” I say, direct and sharp.
Patrick looks briefly to the side, then swings his gaze back, his smirk long gone. “He needs a baby. There’s a timeline to the clause in our mom’s will. The deadline is this year by his birthday in December. Surely, he told you that?”
Swallowing, I feel nauseous. I do my best to remain steady. “Excuse me, I see the doorman motioning that my driver is here. Enjoy your meal.”
“You don’t need any help with the car?” he offers.
“No. I’m fine,” I lie.
The entire ride back home, my chest tightened as I thought over the details. Tiny things. Each small memory pricked at me. An entire list was formed.
He wasn’t surprised I was pregnant.
He was relieved when I said I wanted the baby, and there was no hesitation about the marriage.
He’s more than on board.
And I keep circling back to how he seemed to be more intuitive to my pregnancy before I knew, or his look when he wasn’t surprised.
Panic sets in, along with a string of emotions. My brain is spinning.
Entering the living room, my entire body is tense.
Foster rises from the couch, turns the television off with the remote, and smiles at me. “How was the massage?”
My breath picks up as I stare vacantly at him.
“I ran into your brother.” Foster stalls.
“He, uh… mentioned a minor detail about something. You told me about that fucking clause. I just assumed a wife would give the image of settling down that you needed for your family. But you not once said anything about a fucking timeline for having a baby.” My eyes zip up to see that Foster has frozen.
“I can explain,” he says calmly.
Shaking my head, I scoff a sound. “A timeline. I’m pregnant now. I don’t know how you physically could, but fuck,” I begin to freak out. “Tell me the truth, how much of a coincidence is this pregnancy?”
He tucks his lips in and pauses for a far-too-long second.
“Please let me explain…”