Now, in a dream-like state, I dip my noodle limbs in the pool following my treatment. Parker and Margot sip champagne in the hot tub while Talia treads water in front of me, her red mane piled high on her head.
I roll my shoulders with a sigh. “Can we do this every weekend?”
“If only.” She skims her hands over the ripples. “This is part one of your pre-baby retreat.”
“You three are the best. This is exactly what I needed.” The starts of the third trimester brought intense back pain, and my Mother-To-Be massage successfully relieved all the tension and discomfort.
“We can’t take all the credit.” She twists her lips. “Warren is the one who organized this little retreat.”
My mouth drops open. “He made out like this was allyourdoing.”
“Of course he did.” She rolls her eyes before wading away.
It’s classic of Warren to do something so sweet and not make a big fuss.
When we return to our hotel rooms, I grab my phone to drop him a very gushy, over-the-top thank you text to find he’s already messaged.
Warren: *picture cradling an eggplant*
Warren: Getting my practice in.
Safe to say, the photo of him smiling at the camera while holding the purple vegetable triggers the water works. I trace his face, noting how blissful he looks. The man from the fair allthose months ago is still there, only his eyes have lost their sadness.
Harriet: Now I’m imaging you with the baby strapped to your chest.
Warren: How’s your afternoon?
Harriet: Incredible! You spoiled me and the girls. Thank you.
Warren: It was a group effort. I’ve got to get to the station, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner and rest.
Harriet: What’s tomorrow?
Warren: Wait and see.
We’ve come a long way in a short time. I attended a social media course last week, hoping to learn some tricks to getting my videos to reach a wider audience. I’ve since had two videos go semi-viral, and my followers increased by 30 percent. There’s no knowing if it will get my songs noticed, but it’s a start.
Everything is perfect. Or, almost. There’s still a tiny voice niggling in the corner of my brain, one I try to ignore. He’s putting in the work with his therapist, yet I can’t help but question if there’s more to his story. The most frustrating part is, I still haven’t seen where he lives.
Talia emerges from the bathroom. “The shower is yours. Oh, what’s wrong?”
I school my face and stand. “Nothing. I won’t be long.”
I take my phone into the bathroom, debating whether to broach the subject with Warren. My fingers hover over the keys before thinking better of it, not wanting to disrupt the tranquility of what we’ve got going. It’s not a big deal. I’ll seewhere he lives eventually, especially when the baby is here. We haven’t really spoken logistics, and if things continue as they are, there won’t be many nights we spend apart, and it would make sense to station ourselves at the cottage.
Harriet: Button and I can’t wait to see you. Stay safe.
Blindfolded,Talia and Parker carefully guide me through the hotel lobby.
“Am I being kidnapped?” I ask, blindly turning left and right.
“Have you ever heard of a surprise?” Parker groans. “Two more minutes, and all will be revealed.”
“I hate surprises.”
Talia cackles. “You love surprises. You hate not being the one to organize them. Now, shut your trap.”
I snap my lips together. We stop and go through another door, where the air is cooler, and I swear, I hear hushed voices. Bright light burns my eyes when Parker removes the blindfold. After blinking away the white spots, I take in the small summer room. Bathed in sunbeams, yellow streamers, and balloons hang from the glass ceiling, and sitting around a large round table sit my closest friends.
