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I give in to the tidal wave of emotions, letting the tears fall freely and silently down my cheeks. I don’t know what to do. Every time I approach the precipice, every time I feel like I’ve worked up the nerve to tell him, I chicken out.
Is he going to be pissed at me for keeping it to myself for so long?
And what about Elle? Is she going to kill me for not telling her sooner?
No matter how many times I ask myself those questions, answers don’t come. I feel trapped, unable to make a decision, which only makes things worse. Normally, I’m the one who fixes everyone else’s problems and knows exactly what to do.
But when I’ve got a whopper of one myself, I’m spinning my wheels like I’m stuck in the mud.
Mud . . . quicksand. I think back to that crazy story I told the clerk at the hotel. Was that the time I got pregnant? Or was it against my door? I don’t know, will probably never know, but it’s a question Daniel’s probably going to have too.
Nah . . . fuck this. Action, that’s what I need. Not sitting around boohooing because I can’t make a decision. Slamming my fists into my desk, I stand up. Nausea makes my stomach roll at the sudden movement, but I swallow the wave down and reach for a tissue. I dab at my eyes quickly, praying they’re not too red or bloodshot from the tears, and with a straight back, I walk out to the lobby.
“Hey, ladies, I’m gonna check in on Ace on my lunch break,” I tell them, sort of halfway kind of lying to cover up my plans. “See if he needs anything before the wedding.”
Megan grins, excited for the whole thing. “T-minus two days?” she asks, confirming what she already knows. “Go for it!”
“Yeah, I need to make sure he’s not getting cold feet,” I say with a laugh that sounds hollow to my ears. There’s no way Ace is nervous about marrying Harper. If anything, I’ve had to restrain him from dragging her out of the classroom and down to the county courthouse already. He’s more nervous that she’ll realize she can do better than him.
But selling that I’m going to take care of him is infinitely easier than admitting I need my baby brother because he’s the only one I can talk to right now.
“Yeah, go take care of your bro,” Stephanie adds. “We’ll hold down the fort.”
“Thanks,” I tell them. “Make sure everything’s ready for Arnold 2.0, ’kay?”
Megan salutes, and Stephanie rolls her eyes, both telling me in their own way that of course, they will.
Ace will know instantly that something’s up when I unexpectedly walk into the Bone Zone in the middle of the day, so I’m trying to figure out an opener more creative than ‘how are you doing?’ as a cover story when I see a fried chicken place ahead.
French fries sound like heaven in hot grease and potato form, so I yank the wheel and pull in to order lunch for us. I add in an order of gravy, because gravy’s ten times better than ketchup and suddenly sounds so good I could probably drink one of those little cups down by itself. Cravings are weird as fuck.
I don’t even wait to get to Ace’s, propping one container of gravy in my cupholder while practically double-fisting fries at world record pace. I do manage to not drink it, but it’s only by technicality because I’m scooping loads of it onto every fry so I might as well be.
A few minutes later and my first order of fries down, I pull into The Bone Zone’s parking lot. The door chimes as I go in, greeted first by the sound of happy yapping dogs. From the back, Ace calls out, “Welcome to The Bone Zone. I’ll be right with you.”
“No rush! It’s me,” I call back. “I brought lunch!”
His head pops out from behind the door frame into the back room, followed by the fluffy head of the Maltese he’s holding. “Tiff? What’s wrong?”
Damn. He’s called it right away. “Nothing. Can’t a girl have lunch with her brother for no reason?”
I hold the bag of fried chicken and fries up, shaking them enticingly. The Maltese barks, but Ace isn’t quite as easily swayed. “Yes. Of course, she can.” He smiles agreeably. “But not my sister. She’s never going to ditch the office mid-day unless there’s an emergency. So, what’s going on?”
I blink, not sure what to say. This had seemed like a great idea, a way for me to talk through things with someone not immediately affected by my being pregnant. But Ace has so much on his own plate already that maybe it’s not fair for me to dump my excess on him during what should be the happiest days of his life. Having second thoughts about this course of action, I backpedal from my plan.
