Page 85 of Breaking the Ice

He thanks everyone for coming to honor my grandparents and asks us to raise our glasses. “Grandma and Pop-Pop are a testament to enduring love. Fifty years together is amazing, and as one of their grandchildren, I’m thankful for their example. Do you have any advice for us?”

He walks the microphone over to my grandma, whose hands tremble as she holds it. “Communicate. Openly and honestly. Trust your partner to love you unconditionally.”

Her words hit me in the gut. Have I communicated well with Isabella? About day-to-day stuff, sure, but about our future together? Do we even have one? I’ve hinted, but I haven’t told her that I love her, because I’m afraid she won’t say it back. But I’m tired of being a chicken.

Grandma hands the microphone to my grandfather, and he clears his throat. “Marriage is not easy. It takes work. Never give up, though, when it gets hard. Be brave and put yourself out there. Be humble, too. And don’t forget to tell your partner that you love them.”

He plants a smacking kiss on my grandma, and the room erupts with cheers and squeals of delight.

Their advice continues to echo in my mind. Open and honest communication. Trust. Tell your partner you love them.

Should I say those words to Isabella? My heart aches with how much I want to tell her, but I hold back. I can’t burden her to stay if that’s not what’s best for her. She needs to decide she loves me on her own, without any additional pressure from me.

Chapter

Forty

ISABELLA

“So that right there,” Beth points to a blob on the black and white ultrasound photo, “is his head. Can’t you see his cute little nose?”

I nod, trying to match her enthusiasm, but I don’t see it at all. Ultrasound pictures might as well be photographs of aliens, for all I know. But I gush over it anyway. “He’s adorable. When is his due date?”

“End of May,” Allie says, linking her arm through Beth’s with a proud smile.

They are a study in contrasts—Beth is blonde like Evan, tall and willowy. Her black boat-neck cocktail dress showcases her perfect collarbones, and the diamond studs in her ears and teardrop necklace scream expensive, yet understated.

Allie, on the other hand, is short and curvy, like me. She has a riot of curly brown hair piled on top of her head and is one of the only people not wearing black. But her purple wrap dress makes her brown eyes sparkle, and her bold pink lipstick offsets her olive complexion. I’m not sure how she’s escaped Mrs. Young’s desire for everyone to look like they’ve stepped from the pages of a country club magazine (if that’s a thing) but I want to get to know her better and discover her secrets.

“His birth mother has been great through the whole process. We should be able to bring him home right away,” Allie continues talking. “And we’re tossing around some baby names.”

Evan appears at my side, putting his hand under my elbow, and I can’t help leaning into him. His presence is warm at my back, and I want to nuzzle my face against his chest. But I keep a pleasant smile fixed on my features.

Beth turns to him. “What do you think? Liam, Oliver, or Henry?”

He nods. “Those are all good. But what one sounds best with Evan as a middle name?”

Beth gives an uncomfortable laugh, like she’s not sure what to do with his teasing, but Allie shoves his shoulder.

“Yeah, right. Get over yourself, hot shot.”

“Hey.” He puts his hand over his heart and adopts a wounded look. “I’m going to be his favorite uncle.”

“His only uncle.” Allie snorts.

“Winning by default is still winning.” He squeezes my elbow, then says, “I’m going to steal my wife away for a second, okay?”

Without waiting for their nods, he whisks me across the room.

“If you’re trying to sneak off and make out again, well…I’m up for that,” I tell him, giggling. After dealing with his family and their backhanded insults all afternoon, I’m mentally exhausted. I could go for a physical release from the tension.

But he pulls me to a stop in front of the guests of honor. “Grandma, Pop-Pop, this is my wife, Isabella.”

His grandmother’s blue eyes, identical to his own, twinkle. Her hair is white, her face is lined, but when she smiles, she’s beautiful. I can see the hint of the young woman she was, featured in all the photos displayed around the room.

She holds out her hand, and I take it. “Your bride is so pretty, it’s just about enough that I can forgive you for getting married without us there.”

Evan leans down and brushes a kiss against her cheek. “I’m sorry about that, Grandma. But I thought you of all people would understand.”