Hunching a shoulder, she said, “I forgot mine at home. Oh, and can we play my visit by ear?”
“Whatever you need.” I surveyed her. “What happened, Bri? Is it Hendrix?”
“No, actually, it’s me.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m pregnant.”
I rounded the counter. “What?”
“Yeah. It’s official.”
“Oh my … What are you going to do?”
Bri was a driven professional. She had a detailed life plan that didn’t involve children before the age of thirty-five. Being a single mother was definitely not a bullet point on her list of goals either.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you tell Hen?”
“What makes you think he’s the father?”
I hopped onto one of the barstools. “I know you.”
“I haven’t said anything.” She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t even know how to break the news to him. He doesn’t want kids.”
“Now?”
“Never,” she said. “It’s a thing with him. ’Cause of his parents.”
The thing about parents was … sometimes they fucked their kids up. And Hendrix lost the lottery. Both of his parents were terrible people. We’d bonded over that many times. From the outside, it looked like he had everything he wanted. Yet, all the money in the world didn’t change the trauma that he’d endured.
I cupped her cheek. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”
A tear spilled down her cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
“Well, you’re not alone. I’m here for you. Whatever you decide.” I hugged her. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “Thank you.”
We held on to each other for a moment before I pulled away. “I say we skip the fried chicken and order all of your favorites.”
Bri flashed a watery smile. “Sushi? And ice cream.”
“Coming right up.”
An hour later, we were on the couch watchingReal Housewives of Atlantareruns. Porsha had just admitted Phaedra lied on Kandi. That episode was still good.
“Man, I still can’t believe she lied like that,” Bri said. “I would’ve whooped her ass.”
“I know, right?” I popped a crab roll into my mouth. “She definitely needs a swift uppercut.”
Bri picked up the remote and turned the television off. “Okay, I tried to give you time to get your thoughts together. But it’s time. I told you my secret. Now, it’s your turn.”
“It’s not a secret. I already told you what happened.”
“That’s not good enough. The last time I saw you and Wes, you were arguing.”
“We always argue.”
“What is it? Foreplay?”
