Kieran nods before returning his attention to the booklet.
I get to work, pouring my coffee, but the sound of the paper rustling has my pulse quickening.
How am I going to explain to Kieran that I’m going to turn down the internship without giving away that I’m pregnant?
His voice comes from behind me. “You must be excited.”
I turn around and lean against the counter, clutching my coffee cup in my hands.
I shrug. “I mean, I was excited before, I guess. But now… I don’t know.”
His brow furrows as he closes the induction booklet. “Riley, what’s going on? You were so ready for this.”
“I’ve been thinking,” I look down at the lukewarm coffee in my cup. “I… I don’t think I can do it alongside school. It’s too much of a commitment.”
“But you were so excited about it.”
“I was, but now I’m not. It’s not a big deal, I’m sure there will be other opportunities.”
Kieran opens his mouth to press me, but I cut in.
“I promised Ciara I would help her with something, so can we talk about this later?”
He studies me for a moment, and I force my expression to remain neutral until he eventually dips his chin.
“Fine, we’ll talk more later.”
I can tell from the look on his face that he has every intention of keeping that promise.
I quickly dart back upstairs and slip into Ciara’s room before Kieran changes his mind and decides that later is now. I find her curled up on her bed, scrolling on her laptop.
“Just in time!” She pats the space beside her as I close the door behind me. “I need your help deciding which onesies to buy for the twins’ coming home outfits.”
I’m about to crumble under the weight of all the lies and secrets I’ve been spinning. I know Ciara would be happy to sitand listen to it all without complaint, but I don’t want to ruin her good mood.
So, I plaster a smile on my face, even though I feel anything but happy, and climb onto the bed beside her. “From the way Ronan was acting, I’m surprised to see you in such a good mood.”
Ciara shrugs. “Low blood sugar.”
“Ah, so that’s the excuse you’re using.”
Ciara grins. “It’s my way of getting him to bring me snacks at all hours of the day and night.”
“You know, at some point you’re going to give birth, and you’re not going to have the excuse of being pregnant anymore.”
“No, but I will always remind him that I grew and birthed his children for the rest of eternity.” She laughs.
“Poor, poor man.” I smile, settling back against the pillows. “So, what have you chosen?”
“Oh, my God, I’ve chosen so many. You really need to help me pick because I just can’t decide.”
I wish choosing what color onesies to buy was the only problem I had to worry about, but for right now, I pretend that is it.
We spend the next hour immersed in the world of tiny socks, hats, and onesies of every design.
Ciara is relentless in her commentary as she scrolls through website after website, muttering about clashing colors and patterns, and I listen as she tries to rationalize buying designs in every color just to be safe.
Ciara adds yet more clothes to her basket.
