I blink.
“This is your news,” she says firmly. “Your baby. Your life. I can be sad about my own stuff and still be genuinely thrilled for you. Those things can exist at the same time.”
My throat tightens. I nod because speaking feels risky.
“I love you,” I manage.
“I know,” she says. “Now tell me why we’re not in Theo’s coffee shop.”
I wrap both hands round my cup, grounding myself in the warmth. “Because the father is… complicated.”
Her eyes light up in that way that tells me she’s already enjoying the mess. “Oh my God. You slept with someone chaotic.”
“I slept with someone familiar,” I correct.
She leans in. “Christa.”
I lower my voice. “Geoff.”
She freezes.
For half a second there’s silence. Real silence this time.
Then she screams again.
“Geoff,” she stage-whispers, at a volume that suggests whispering is more of a concept than a skill. “As inGeoff Corbin.”
“Yes.”
“As in my boyfriend’s brother.”
“Yes.”
Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
“When?” she demands.
“Miranda's birthday,” I say. “Jasper’s. Everyone asleep. Whisky made several executive decisions on my behalf.”
She stares at me. “You slept with Geoff Corbin at a family gathering. Wait… your room was opposite mine and Theo’s.”
“There were doors,” I say quickly. “And we were quiet… kind of. There was regret the next morning.”
“How did I not know this?”
“Because it was a one-time thing,” I say. “We both agreed it was a bad idea, filed it undernever speak of this again, and carried on with our lives.”
Ivy squints. “You’re very good at secrets.”
“I hate secrets,” I reply. “This one was just… necessary.”
“And now,” she says slowly, “there is a baby.”
“Yes.”
“With Geoff.”
“Yes.”
