“This is bullshit,” he says, pacing the room while pushing a hand through his blond hair, the same hair that his father and sister have—the blond that all of the Cassidy family has.
“Maybe it’s time we see some doctors, Cole,” I suggest cautiously. “We’ve been trying for almost two years now and…”
“Fuck that. There’s nothing wrong with me. It sounds like you’re the problem.”
“You don’t know that…”
“Yes, I do!” His voice carries through the room as he gets inches from my face. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he grates out, “Think about how this looks. We’ve been married for so long and still no children. I have an image to uphold, Vienna. My job and the connections I make rely on it.” When his eyes meet mine again, he looks at me with disgust. “Figure it out, or I’m going to.”
All I see is his back as he leaves our room, slamming the door behind him. As soon as I’m alone again, I crumble to the floor, holding my knees to my chest.
All I’ve ever wanted is children, to raise them to know love like I never did.
But I don’t know if that will happen now. And without a husband who is willing to approach this intentionally, I don’t know if it ever will.
***
“You booked a magician for my bachelorette party?” Laney is frozen in place, watching our entertainment for the evening setting up his props in Dilynne’s living room.
“Well, you said no strippers, so I figured this was thenext best thing.”
“How did you even arrive at that conclusion?”
Dilynne plants her hands on her hips, smacking her gum. “I had a customer come into the shop a few weeks ago, this little old man who wanted a tune-up on his car.” She peers over at me, eyes widening. “It was a 1979 Camaro z28. I’ve never seen one in person, and when I did, I nearly came when I touched it.”
“Yeah, that means nothing to me,” I reply.
Elodie scrunches up her nose. “And that was an unnecessary detail to share with us.”
Dilynne shakes her head. “I need better friends.”
“Please get to the point,” Laney says, directing Dilynne back to her story.
“Anyway, he wanted the car in tip-top shape because he and his wife were going on a date to see a magic show in Charlotte. How adorable is that?”
“Okay, that’s actually kind of sweet,” I say as I lift my glass of champagne to my lips.
“Exactly, and since my best friend is acting like a prude of a bride, I figured we should see what all of the hype about magic shows is, so I got the information from the little old man and here we are.” She fans her hands over to the guy dressed in a black tux and top hat.
“I am not a prude for not wanting to see some man get naked when my fiancé fulfills every fantasy I have,” Laney counters. “Plus, I let you order that monstrosity of a cake.” When she points to the corner, the four of us look in that direction. “Dilynne likes to order novelty cakes for bachelor and bachelorette parties. For Elliot’s, she put his and his would-be bride’s face on the testicles of a penis.”
“You didn’tletme do anything. You and I both know that you weren’t going to do a damn thing about the cake that I ordered. Honestly, I think I went a little tame with this one.”
The rectangular-shaped cake was decorated to look like a postcard, but Fletcher’s face is on the penis-shaped stamp in the corner. In the middle is a picture of Laney and Fletcher as kids, but when you lift that picture up, there’s an image of Fletcher’s calendar photo underneath. Laney appreciated that more than anyone.
“I get it, but there are plenty of single women here who would have appreciated a stripper and a penis-shaped cake,” Dilynne fires back. “I exercised so much control by honoring your requests that I should get some credit for that. But sometimes you need to think about other people too, Laney.”
Laney gasps, but there’s a smile on her lips. “I can’t believe you just said that to me!”
“Honey, if I can’t be honest with you, then who can?”
Elodie and I laugh, watching their exchange as a bunch of the other girls murmur in conversation while sitting in chairs around the room.
Dilynne really did plan the perfect party for Laney. Her entire house is decorated in shades of gold and rose pink—Laney’s wedding colors—and there are tables full of food, but most importantly, towers of onion rings on tables around the room. Endless bottles of champagne are chilling on ice, and there are cardboard cutouts hiding under sheets in the corner, which I can only assume are for a game later.
Normally a social situation like this would make me feel uneasy, but these girls are quickly becoming a source of comfort in my new life, yet another aspect I want to fight for.
“Fine. Then tell me why the cutouts are back,” Laney says to Dilynne, planting her hands on her hips now.
