Maryse goes to the ice bucket and takes out what I assume is champagne. “None for me,thanks.”
“Oh no. You’re the bride and you’re being pampered and having champagne while we dress shop,” Averysays.
“I can’t. I’m driving, remember?” That should endthat.
“One drink isn’t going to hurt you,Em.”
Avery takes the champagne flute from Maryse and places it in myhand.
Shit. What the hell am I going to do aboutthis?
I know that one drink isn’t going to do anything to the baby, but even one sip makes me feel like a terrible mother. Not to mention that I feelblah.
“To you and Tristan. May your lives be filled with love andhappiness.”
I bring the glass to my lips and take a miniscule sip. Enough to shut her up—or so I think until I hear hergasp.
“What?”
“Emma Lia Grant. I sawthat.”
“You sawwhat?”
She looks down at my stomach and then back at my face, studying it. “You’repregnant.”
Tristan and I have enjoyed keeping our little secret all to ourselves, and we were planning to hold out until I’m twelve weeks pregnant just in case something happened. But she’s calling me out, and I don’t think that I can outright lie to my bestfriend.
“I am, but you can’t tellanyone.”
“Em! I can’t believe that you didn’t tellme.”
“I was going to, but then we read some things about waiting until twelve weeks because of the risk of miscarriage.” I don’t know how I would handle it if I lost the baby. It just seems easier towait.
“How far along are you?” Averyasks.
“Almost two months. I haven’t known for very long. Only about twoweeks.”
Avery turns up her champagne, chugging it like a beer, and then reaches for mine. “Give me that.” She does the same with my flute of champagne. “Is the pregnancy why you didn’t want to come dressshopping?”
“Yes. I have no idea how big I’ll be when we getmarried.”
“I bet you won’t even be showing at the wedding; Tristan is going to want to marry yousoon.”
How does sheknow?
“He hasn’t mentioned marrying me since the day after we found out about the baby. Not a single word.” It’s so strange. Andunnerving.
Avery shrugs. “He’s probably just freaking out. You know, first-time dad andall.”
“No, I don’t know.” I don’t know at all. I’ve never been pregnant and waiting on the father of my baby topropose.
“Don’t worry. That man loves you to pieces. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Now, let’s get you into somedresses.”
“I’m on it,” Marysesays.
She returns with an armful of dresses. “I pulled several. We’ll starthere.”
I stand on the platform at the bridal shop and look at myself in the full-length mirror. Do I see myself becoming Mrs. Tristan Romaric Broussard in this dress? I don’tknow.
