“Jesus Harold Christmas. I’m going to be a grandmother.”
“And you’re married to her,” Halle says, staring at Aston. “You’remarriedto Skylar.”
“It’s not real,” I press. “It’s just… you know, convenient for both of us right now. It’s an arrangement.”
“Arrangement or not, you’re married, and you’re pregnant. People will assume the baby is yours.” She points at Aston.
“If Skylar wants me to say it is, given the situation, I will.”
I swallow thickly. I was never going to ask him for that. Not ever. But to hear him offer it so casually and calmly, it thaws some of the newly formed ice I had around my heart where he’s concerned.
“Well then.” Halle flips her copper-red hair back over her shoulders, resolute and getting down to business. “If we’regoing to make this look real, we have to announce it and throw a party for you both. It has to look as though both of your families are involved in this.”
“Yes,” my mom agrees. “It’s how the Fritzes and the Hugheses would do it. We don’t have to announce the pregnancy if that’s not what you’re ready to do, but we are going to throw you a wedding party.”
Oh shit.
21
ASTON
Our mothers leave in a tizzy of pregnancy and wedding party planning flutter, which officially means the word is out. Our moms will tell everyone in our families, and I guess that takes the burden off us. One less awkward conversation to have.
I shut and lock the door behind them, momentarily sagging against it. I started this train, and now I’m stuck riding on it, even as the brakes seem to have blown out and it’s racing down the tracks, headed straight for destruction.
A wedding party. Great. Zoey will never understand this, and I can’t fathom a way this doesn’t make her situation worse. Skylar’s too, probably.
Skylar walks straight past me into the kitchen, where she pulls a glass out of the cabinet, fills it with water from the fridge, and downs it in three huge gulps. I have no clue what to say or how to help her with this. In fact, I’m pretty positive she’s all set with my help and never wants me to speak to her again. I seem to hurt everything I touch lately. Or at the very least fuck it up somehow.
Zoey waves her fork wildly in the air. “We’re going to see the movie still, right?”
I nod and push myself away from the door to head back into the kitchen. “Yup. This afternoon.”
“Can I get the big popcorn? The one with the butter and stuff?” she asks, chewing with her mouth open, blissfully oblivious to all that’s happening.
“Sure,” I say because I don’t think I can say no to her today. She saw something last night that reminded her of her mother, and she absolutely lost it. I brought her home and lay in bed with her for an hour, holding her, comforting her, until she finally cried herself to sleep. She made me promise I’d never die and leave her, which I can’t obviously promise. If she asked for a Ferrari right now, I’d probably oblige.
A smile lights up her face, her lips glistening with syrup. “Sky’s coming too. We’re going to share popcorn and candy.”
“Sweetie, Skylar might have other plans today.” I go over to the stove and fix Skylar a plate. She’s quiet. Hardly moving, and I have no clue what’s going through her head. When the girl wants to shut down, she does it well and keeps everything roiling in her head and heart a mystery. She likes her secrets, but they’re unfolding to everyone one by one.
I hand Skylar her plate. She eyes it dubiously but goes and sits down across from Zoey. She hasn’t made any coffee for herself, and I don’t know if she wants any, and I’d rather not ask because fuck, it’s like I don’t even know how to talk to her anymore, so I just make her a cup how she likes it and set it in front of her.
She eyes it for a harsh minute before mumbling, “Thank you.”
“You’re not coming?” Zoey asks her, crestfallen.
Skylar puts on a happy-go-lucky smile, one no one could see through.
“Of course I’m coming. Popcorn, candy, and getting to hang out with you? Sign me up.”
A smile cracks my lips even as I wonder if she developed this talent from being a nurse and having to smile for kids despite knowing sometimes they won’t have the best outcomes or if this comes from her childhood when kids were dicks and she had to smile and appear unfazed or if it’s from covering the abuse she sustained from Josh.
All of those options piss me off, but I brush them aside. What am I doing trying to figure her out?
I shake myself out of my inane curiosity and make myself a plate minus eggs because eggs gross me out like few things in this world do, a large cup of black coffee, and sit beside Zoey. I tell myself it’s to give Skylar space from me, but as I glance up at her, able to study her pretty face, I know it’s so I can watch her when she doesn’t realize I’m looking. Fuck. Last night has me spun.
I fell asleep with the taste and smell of her all over me. Hating myself for how I ended it while convincing myself I had no other choice. But she was the first thing on my mind this morning after being the last when I fell asleep, and that’s not a new phenomenon. It’s been like that since I saw her outside the bar that night on Valentine’s Day. Even before that, because she made Valentine’s Day her holiday for me two years ago.
