It could have been me and Elijah, but he apparently doesn’t care in the same way Hawk does. He doesn’t care enough to sit in the hallway in the middle of the night simply to hear my voice, to hold my hand.
Hawk says something and Kelsey quietly laughs. “This is going to be the most loved baby in the entire world. She’s going to be so spoiled.”
My eyes go wide.What the fuck?
There is only one way to interpret what she just said. I guess it explains why Hawk has hovered so much, why Kelsey refused to drink, andoh, God, I wouldn’t let her go to sleep at her bachelorette, andholy shit. Kelsey’s going to be a mom.
Kelsey slips back into bed while I feign sleep.
After a moment, she laughs. “You are the worst fake sleeper I’ve ever seen in my life. How much did you hear?”
My eyes fly open. “Oh, just, you know, that you love him so much and that you can’t wait to be his wife and there was something else, butgee, it slips my mind.”
Her eyes shine in the moonlight. “You’re such an asshole. Yes, I’m pregnant.”
I reach across the bed to squeeze her hand. “Congratulations. You sounded pretty happy, so I’ll assume it’s okay that it’s happening in this order.”
She smiles. “I’m thrilled. We were going to start trying over our honeymoon, and I guess we just got a little head start.”
“And you’re having a girl?”
She laughs. “We said we were going to wait to find out, but apparently I’m bad at waiting to do anything.”
“I can’t believe Elijah was able to keep a secret from me this whole trip.”
Her smile fades. “He doesn’t know yet,” she says. “We were planning to tell him at brunch on Sunday.”
“I won’t tell him I know,” I reassure her. “This is amazing news, though.”
Her smile remains muted, though. I wish I knew why.
When we wakethe next morning, sun is pouring through the windows—which I guess means the hurricane has turned away. Kelsey wakes only seconds later, and nothing has changed in her face. She was thrilled about this wedding last night, and she’s still thrilled.
She really meant it yesterday, when she said she would be just as happy in pouring rain.
She jumps out of bed and goes to the window. Already, the tent clanks below us as it’s put back up. With the clamor they’re making I’m stunned we slept as long as we did.
“You’re not allowed to go downstairs,” I tell her sternly, pulling on a sweatshirt and shorts. “I’ll go get us coffee—decaf for you, ma’am—and come right back.”
She turns and looks over her shoulder at me. Her smile is blindingly happy. “I’m getting married today,” she says, and I smile back, but my lips are trembling, some strange combination of happiness and misery I can’t quite explain to myself.
I go downstairs, where chairs and linens are going out, while flowers and food come in. A small breakfast buffet has been set up in the dining room and I find Judy and Bridget there, stirring their coffee and chatting in a frantic sort of way. Judy stops to hug me—she’s grabbed me every time I’ve passed since we arrived—and then they resume their conversation. They’ve gotten their dream outcome—a perfect wedding day for Kelsey and Hawk—and now they’ve gone right back to worrying about small shit, the exact things they were stewing over a few days ago.
“I’m just worried it’s going to be muddy,” Bridget is saying. “I don’t mind people tracking mud through the house necessarily, but it’s going to look like a stable in here once enough guests have come in and out.”
“I really don’t think you can ask people to remove their shoes,” Judy says diplomatically, but with an unusual firmness to her voice. “Think about how many women have had their dresses hemmed at heel height. Everyone’s clothes will be dragging on the floor.”
I wander outside. The tables are being draped in linen, pale lavender with the finest lace overlay I’ve ever seen. The florist is placing centerpieces, while her assistants are fixing an incredible floral garland atop every door and window frame.
Trays of cut glass glimmer in the light, waiting to go on tables, and across the way, there stands a ten-foot-tall flower wall made of roses dyed lavender to match the linens.
This wedding is going to be perfect. It’s going to be the wedding my best friend deserves, and I’m not sure why that fact is making me cry.
The side gate opens, and Elijah enters, clearly back from a run—AirPods still in his ears, T-shirt stuck to his chest. He looks wary as he crosses the courtyard to me, but I still see sweetness and longing in his gaze.
He cares about me, but he just doesn’t care enough. I’ll have to accept it. But it’s going to take me a very long time.
“Is Kelsey up?” he asks. “She must be thrilled.”
