Chapter 25
EBBA
I awaken to a persistent and loud banging noise.
Groaning, I slowly blink my eyes open and—
I jolt backwards, nearly throwing myself off my bed in the process because Fisher’s in my bed—and not only that, but I had my body wrapped around him like some sort of sloth clinging to a branch, my head resting on his firm chest.
The banging continues and I realize it’s someone at my door.
“What the hell is that?” Fisher grumbles, crooking his elbow over his eyes.
“I have no idea.” I hope he didn’t notice the way I completely ignored my side of the bed and snuggled up to him instead.
I venture out of the room and grab my robe off the back of the couch and tug it on. The sun is high in the sky, illuminating the condo.
Again, with the banging.
I peek through the peephole and confusion has me scrunching my nose when I find my parents on the other side.
Opening the door, I say, “What are you guys doing here? We didn’t have plans, did we?” I rack my brain for anything I could’ve scheduled with my parents before I left for Vegas and I’m coming up empty.
My mom gapes at me, her light hair pulled back in a slick bun. She used to be a model and even now she exudes this quiet confidence that I’m sure stems from her time on the runway.
“When were you going to tell me you got married?”
“Oh.”
Oh.
“I cannot believe your father and I had to find out this way.”
I bite my lip, my fingers twisting together. “How exactly did you find out?”
I should’ve known better to than to think they wouldn’t find out, but mentally I could only handle so much, and dealing with my new husband has been just about all I’m capable of.
She swipes her phone open and presses at a few things before she turns it around, showing me an Instagram page with a photo of Fisher and I leaving the church.
I’m in his arms, grinning broadly, and he looks like the happiest man alive.
Someone clearly recognized our group and while it’s taken a few days for it to leak, the photo is out now.
She takes her phone back. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone!”
My dad still hasn’t said a word. He leans against door with his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem pissed, but the small downturn of his lips tells me he’s sad and maybe even a little disappointed.
“It wasn’t planned. It just kind of happened,” I say defensively.
A throat clearing has me turning to see Fisher exiting my bedroom. “Uh … hi.”
Silence fills the space. I don’t think any of us knows what to say.
I should have told them right away and I hate to admit that it never crossed my mind and from the look on Fisher’s face it hadn’t occurred to him either. I think we’ve both been in a bubble thinking this is only happening to us.
My mom is the first one to speak. “You two get dressed and then we’re all going to lunch and talking about this.” She points her finger in warning, and I feel like when I was fifteen and got caught sneaking out to meet up with Jake Bennington at the pool.
“Okay,” I squeak, not about to argue with her.
My mother isn’t a terrifying person despite her height, but even at my grown age having my mother scold me makes me feel like a little kid again and I know I better listen.
She jerks her chin down and motions for my dad to follow her out the door.
As soon as the door shuts behind them Fisher says, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Ebba. I didn’t even think about our parents finding out this way. I haven’t even told mine yet and…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “This was a shitty way for them to find out.”
“I know,” I sigh. “I’m going to get dressed and see if I can manage to put a little makeup on before she busts in here again. Maybe you should call your parents?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He jerks his head in a nod. “Good idea.”
I leave him to it while I get ready. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so nervous for a lunch in my life.
My parents exchange a look that conveys an entire conversation I’m not privy to. Getting everything off my chest feels good, but I can tell they feel blindsided.
“A baby?” My mom says, her voice quivering ever so slightly. “And you never told me?”
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. I struggle to get enough air into my lungs and it’s only when Fisher gently places his hand on my knees that I feel like I can breathe.
“It’s not like I was never going to tell you,” I whisper. The pain in my heart is just as awful today as it was those years ago. “But the baby was gone before I could and after…” I shake away the memories. “After felt pointless.”
“Oh, honey.” My mom’s face falls and she practically dives forward to hug me. “I’m so sorry.”
It feels better than I imagined it could to have this off my chest. I’ve kept these secrets for way too long.
I squeeze my mom tight, needing that hug way more than I thought I did.
Beneath the table Fisher still hasn’t removed his hand and gives my knee a gentle squeeze.
“Does your brother know?” My dad asks.
He’s been quiet through all of this, and I would love to know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t appear angry—the vein in his forehead that tends to pulse when he’s mad is absent—but his eyes are sad.
“He knows we got married, and according to Whimsy he knew we were together before, but he never said anything to me about it. I don’t think he knows about the … the baby.”
My mom traces my cheek in a gentle and soothing touch. I’m five again after I skinned my knee when I fell off my bike and she’s brushing tears off my cheek. I suppose no matter how old I get I’m always going to be her little girl.
“I hate that you carried all of this silently for years.” Her eyes move from me to Fisher and back again. “And I hate that you two thought you had to keep your relationship a secret.”
My shoulders droop. “Elias and Noah’s rivalry was burning bright back then. We didn’t want to do anything to fuck with their heads.”
My mom sits back and takes a sip of her wine. As soon as we got to the restaurant, she ordered one, muttering to herself that she was going to need alcohol for this.
“I’m still not quite understanding how you two got married. You said you haven’t been together in years?” There’s an accusatory tone to her question.
“We haven’t been,” I reply, playing with the earrings that line my right ear.
“I think…” I hesitate, because Fisher is going to eat this admission up.
“I think feelings never went away, they were just overshadowed by other things, so when we had time together at Noah and Sabrina’s place, and then in Vegas …
lines got blurred and alcohol was involved and suddenly here we are. ”
I feel Fisher’s eyes boring into the side of my face.
I just know he’s going to bring up my comment about feelings later.
Clearing his throat, my dad says, “Are we supposed to offer congratulations or are you getting this annulled? I don’t quite understand what your plan is here.”
His tone is sterner than I expected. He still doesn’t seem angry, but there’s something there I’m struggling to understand.
Fisher and I exchange a look and I nod, giving him permission to speak.
“I asked Ebba if she would give me a chance and she’s been kind enough to give me six months—if at the end of the six months she finds that she doesn’t want to be married to me anymore then we’ll take the next steps.”
“And if you decide to stay married will there be another wedding? Will I be awarded the opportunity to walk my only daughter down the aisle?” Tears pool in my eyes and my heart breaks.
“Oh, Dad.” I get up, going around the table to hug him. This is why he was acting funny. I didn’t think about how either of them might feel about missing out even if it was a drunken mishap.
“I know it’s silly,” he says, hugging me back. “But I always pictured myself walking you down the aisle. A father and daughter dance. I feel a little robbed.”
Letting him go, I return to my seat. “It wasn’t exactly planned, so I didn’t purposely exclude you, but I’m still sorry that it hurt you.”
He sniffles. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. It’s just that you’re my little girl.”
“Let’s tackle one thing at a time,” Fisher says and I’m actually thankful for his interjection. “Right now, the most important thing is to show Ebba that she’s the thing that matters most to me.”
His eyes hold me hostage and my heart accelerates behind my ribcage.
I don’t want to believe him. It’s easier not to. But the truth is there in his eyes.
Fisher Grant never stopped loving me. That much I’m certain of.