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“I’ll just have a water,” I tell the waiter, patting my belly. I don’t know why I feel the need to justify ordering water in a bar; it’s obvious I’m pregnant. Regardless, I do every time.
Emma slides her margarita on a coaster and greets me, although I’m not sure how I respond because I am hypnotically staring at the salty condensation dripping from her beveled glass. God, I miss booze. Shepherd won’t allow me to take even a sip of alcohol. He’s weird about stuff like that—alcohol, drugs. He says he wants a clean lifestyle, for us, and the boys.
“You’re glowing,” she says.
“Fuck you.”
Emma laughs. We both know it’s bullshit. Why do people always tell pregnant women such lies?
“Okay, for real, how are you feeling?”
“Like a whale,” I groan and rub my stomach again.
Emma wrinkles her nose in sympathy, although I know it’s just for show. Only women who have been pregnant truly understand the plights of pregnancy.
“I’m getting heartburn now.”
“Oh no. Can you take anything?”
“Shepherd won’t let me.”
Emma frowns. “What do you mean he won’t let you?”
I shift in my seat. “He just wants everything as natural as possible.”
“Hang on,” Emma raises her palms. “Don’t tell me he wants you to do a natural birth, too?”
I nod and feel a rush of protectiveness for my soon-to-be-husband. Who is she to judge him?
Quickly, I say, “It’s best for the baby, and we want to do everything we can to give this one the best life possible.”
Emma stares at me for moment, and for the first time, I can’t read her expression. Then, she asks, “How’s Connor doing?”
“Good.” I shrug. “I think the in-school therapy is helping him.”
“Good.” She inhales to continue, but then thinks better of it, and closes her mouth.
I’m glad.
Honestly? Ever since Shepherd and I came out publicly, Emma has been, well, different with me. She judges me, as everyone does, for being another man’s mistress. I can’t really blame her. Emma doesn’t understand what it’s like to finally meet your soulmate, get pregnant, get engaged. Lately, it feels like she and I live on two separate planets.
“So,” she says, twirling the straw in her glass. “How is Shepherd liking his new job as… what was it again?”
“He’s a construction project manager, and yes, he loves it. He enjoys it much more than working at the window company he used to work for. Do you know they made him do door-to-door sales for a while? Can you imagine?”
“I didn’t know that. Well, that’s good to hear. You and Shepherd looked at a house today, right? How was it?”
“We love it. The kitchen needs updating but other than that, it’s perfect. I think Shep is going to make an offer tomorrow, using the rest of his severance pay from his old job. I hope the offer goes through because all this house hunting is exhausting me and the baby.”
“I bet… Well, thank you for meeting me anyway.”
“Of course. It’s your last night in Blackbird Cove. You excited to move back to Houston?”
Emma shrugs. “I think so. I’m definitely excited about the pay increase I’m getting by moving to a private school, but I’ll miss you, and here. I like it here.”
“We’ll have a guest room with your name on it.”
“Ah, thanks.” She glances at her watch, and I realize then that she seems a bit rushed.
