“My doctor said there’s a chance I could have a hard time conceiving children naturally,” she continues, and the mention of babies freezes me to the spot, my body breaking out in a cold sweat instantly.
Her eyes meet mine again and I know she’s thinking about the same thing I am.
About the first time she conceived a child.
TEN
ZALEA
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
“Ugh, I feel like absolute shit,”I mutter, stumbling into the kitchen after puking my guts out.
“That’s what happens when you drink like you’ve got a death wish,” Zale says, setting a plate of breakfast down in front of me.
“I donotdrink that heavily,” I say defensively, smacking his arm as he drops into the chair beside me.
“You always drink that heavily at Gabriel’s goodbye parties,” he replies with an eye roll before shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth.
I take a bite of toast and stay quiet. Gabriel qualified for the World Surf Tour. Again. Which means he’ll be gone for a year. Again. While I’ll be stuck surfing local competitions with the town's youth surf team—the Saltwater Shredders.
It isn’t the first time Gabriel’s leaving. He’s been on tour for four years now, only coming home for a few months at a time to re-qualify for the next one. But those months in between are my favourite.
Over the last five years, we not only rekindled our friendship, but we also became somethingmore. Not quite dating, but not quite friends either. I guess we’re what you’d call ‘friends with benefits’, or a ‘situationship’.
“Whatever,” I mumble when I catch Zale watching me, one eyebrow raised. “I just wanted to give him a proper send-off. That’s all.”
“Right,” he scoffs, shaking his head.
I drop my toast back onto the plate and stand, my stomach already rolling from the smell of food.
“I’ll be at the beach,” I say, grabbing my wet suit and board from beside the back door.
“You barely ate,” he calls, pointing at my plate.
“I’m not hungry,” I lie. “Especially after all that bullshit you just spewed at me.”
“Oh, come on, Zalea! We’ve got a competition later. You need to eat,” he shouts after me. “And you know what I said isn’t bullshit.”
I shoot him a warning glare before heading out, and strap my board to the side of my bike, slinging my wetsuit over my shoulders. I pedal the short distance to the beach where I find Maliah and Koa, members of the Saltwater Shredders, already there.
“Hey, girl,” Maliah calls, waving me over. “Practicing for the competition later?”
“I just need some air,” I say, letting out a shaky breath as I watch Koa take on a wild wave.
“You don’t look so good,” Maliah says, frowning as she studies my face. “What’s going on?”
I drop my board and wetsuit and sink down beside her towel. “I think I caught some kind of stomach bug,” I mutter, rubbing my face.
“Is it your period?” she asks. “I get awful stomach pain before mine.”
I freeze, staring at the sand as cold floods my veins.
My period…is late.
Two weeks late.
How did I not notice?
