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I sigh and massage my temples after activating the speaker and resting the phone on the counter. "Any idea who leaked it?"
"Unfortunately? Yeah." Grayson's voice is laced with frustration, and I can almost see the worried furrow in his brow as he speaks. "It was Tate."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"I know you wanted to keep it between us, and I know how the media can be when they smell a story. People love snooping into celebrities' private lives, especially when big changes are coming."
"Oh, Gray, why on earth would you tell him? I mean, it's one thing if you spoke to Mike about it, but Tate? He's your agent, and getting people talking about you is part of his job description."
"He thought he was helping us. It was out of line and unacceptable, but he didn't mean us any harm."
"So that means you're not going to fire him."
There's a moment of silence on the other side of the line, and finally, there is a gentle "I'll do it if you want me to."
Biting my lower lip, I consider his offer. "No,” I say finally. “I don't want to be the reason someone loses his job. Especially not someone who cares about you, as messed up as what he did is. And it is messed up—and if he's going to be around, I need him to understand that. I don't want my son or daughter's life out there for everyone to read."
"I'll talk to him. See you tonight?"
"Yeah," I reply, my voice more bitter than he probably deserves.
"I can buy strawberries if you want."
"Pears," I say, fighting back a smile.
"Pears it is, then."
"Crisp ones, not the mushy sort. And they have to be the perfect shade of golden yellow, not too green, not too brown. And I wouldn't mind a sprinkling of blue cheese crumbles on them either, just for something extra."
Grayson’s laughter, so real and warm, is making my mood take another sharp turn, this time for the better. "Blue cheese? You're getting bold, Miss Pregnant Cravings."
“Are you questioning the pregnant lady’s demands?” I tease, inwardly admonishing myself for coming close to flirting again. I’ve been doing it more and more often ever since I moved in with him again, and even though we’re sleeping in different rooms, it can still lead to a dangerous slippery slope. "This tiny human inside me has sophisticated taste buds, you know."
"Alright, alright, I get it. Don't worry, I'll find the perfect pears, even if it means searching every grocery store in town.”
God, I'm smiling now, and it's not a regular smile. I know it without needing to look at my reflection in the mirror. It's that silly smile that starts in my heart and ends on my lips—the one that makes my cheeks grow hot and threatens to tear the walls I’ve erected to keep Grayson at arm’s length.
“Twins?!” My question hangs in the silence of the room for what feels like an eternity, though it’s more likely no more than a second or two. I repeat it a second time, my shock eradicating all of my patience at once. “But we’ve had like three ultrasounds already, and I’m—”
I hate to stop and count with my fingers, pregnancy brains striking again. It’s like I’m forgetting everything lately.
“Eighteen weeks along,” Grayson offers, and I turn toward him, surprised by his quick response. “What? I’m paying attention.”
“So you are,” I am tempted to smile, but my thoughts go back to the two babies' business and instead turn toward the doctor. “Shouldn’t we have discovered this sooner?”
Much to my chagrin, she offers me that annoying, all-knowing smile doctors often give to hysterical patients, her voice calm. "It's not uncommon for twins to not be identified until later in pregnancy, especially with first-time mothers. Sometimes, they can be tucked in close together, or the angle of the ultrasound can obscure the presence of the second baby. But don’t worry, they both look healthy, and their growth is on track for this stage.”
“Don’t worry?” I repeat, and turn back toward Grayson, searching for an echo of my disbelief and trepidation. “Are you hearing this?”
But Grayson isn’t panicking. He’s not frowning or growing pale or anything of the sort. No, instead, he’s smiling at me, a soft, kind smile that makes me feel a bit calmer despite the bombshell revelation.
"Double the trouble, double the fun, right?" He grins, but his eyes hold a hint of concern, and his grip on my hand grows firmer. "Hey, it's all going to be alright. This doesn't change anything. Well, except for double feeding and diaper duties, but we'll manage. There's two of them, two of us, we can do it."
I want to protest, to tell him this changes everything, that we're not ready for twins, that I'm not sure I can handle this. But his confidence is like a beacon in the storm, and I find myself smiling despite the chaos reigning within me.
The moment, though, dissipates as the doctor begins explaining the next steps and precautions we need to take with the twins. It's a lot to take in, but I focus on breathing, taking it one minute at a time. After all, I freaked out when I learned I was pregnant, and now I'm ready to be a mom. Almost.
twenty-six
