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I didn’t want to come back home just to find out Devon was still out with Miss Fancy Pants.
The alternative of Devon being home and sitting me down for a grown-up talk was equally as terrifying.
What could I say to him? Yesterday had changed nothing.
I was still me and he was still him. We still had holes in our hearts.
His family would never accept me and would go through bankruptcy if he didn’t marry Louisa.
And me? I was still the same girl who closed her eyes to dream and instead saw Mr. Locken.
Instead of going home, I met with Aisling, Sailor, and Persephone at the latter’s mansion for an evening of fried clam plates and beers.
Sticking to soda was hard but necessary. Pregnancy brought with it disgust of numerous things—coffee, red meat, and most types of fish. But I still longed for a glass of wine every now and again.
“Well? What kind of symptoms are you having during your pregnancy?” Sailor knocked down her drink like an Irish … well … sailor. “When I was pregnant with Rooney, my hoo-ha turned purple. It was horrible.” She paused. “I mean, especially for Hunter. I wasn’t in a position to look at it. Literally.”
Persy put a hand to her mouth. “Thank you, TMI queen.”
Sailor shrugged, swiping a french fry in a bowl of ketchup.
“Just kidding. He kind of liked it. It made him feel like he was having alien sex.”
“I used to wet my pants. Constantly,” Aisling volunteered casually, popping a fried clam into her mouth. I spat my soda, peppering it all over my friends. Well, this was casual.
“Ambrose put a lot of pressure on my bladder. At first, it only happened when I coughed or sneezed. By the third trimester, all I had to do was bend over to put my socks on, and whoops, I peed my pants. I think I was the only pregnant woman on planet Earth who still used sanitary pads every day. Whenever I bought some at the local Walmart, the cashier looked at me weird, like, ‘you know you don’t need them, right?’ and I wanted to scream at her that I was a doctor.”
“What about you?” I turned to my perfect sister, who had two perfect pregnancies and delivered babies that were beautiful and good sleepers from day one. Persy, God bless, was incapable of imperfections.
She scrunched her nose, blushing.
“What?” Sailor demanded, grinning, a french fry hanging like a cigarette from the corner of her mouth. “Tell us, asshole!”
“Well.” Persy tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. “It wasn’t a symptom per se …”
All of us were now leaning toward her at the dining table, eyes wide, dying to know.
“It was just that, during both pregnancies, I was really, really horny.”
“You mean you needed vitamin D every day?” Sailor arched an eyebrow.
Persy laughed. “Yeah. I wanted it … a little rough. And Cillian, well, he was torn between giving me what I wanted and making sure we didn’t do anything stupid.”
We all nodded, considering this.
“Now your turn,” Persy giggled, throwing a french fry at me.
It felt a lot like when we were teenagers. The ease that came with being together. I knew we would always have each other. It gave me great comfort now that my feelings were all pretzeled up about Devon.
“I think my main symptom is insanity,” I admitted. Munching on my corn on the cob, I knew I was going to regret later on, when I had to floss for two hours straight. “Because I think I’m … kind of starting to like Devon? I mean, for real?”
Utensils clattered. Persy dropped a piece of fried clam on the floor, making no move to pick it up, still staring at me. Sailor and Aisling looked at each other like they were contemplating whether to check my temperature or not.
Persy was the first to clear her throat, proceeding with caution. “Elaborate, please.”
I told them everything. About the will, the inheritance, and the issues that came with it. About Devon’s mother, and sister, and bankruptcy. I told them about his late nights with Louisa and about how I pushed him into her arms.
How I played my cards in the worst possible way.
I told them everything other than the secrets Devon and I had shared. The holes in our hearts part.
After I was done, the entire table fell silent.
Sailor seemed to recover before everyone else. She leaned back in her chair, green eyes wide, and blew out air. “Damn.”
I buried my face in my hands. No good advice was ever prefaced by the word “damn.”
Persy’s staff began moving our plates away, making themselves invisible. For the millionth time, I wondered how my sister, who’d come from such humble beginnings, could get used to this kind of wealth.
“Any more helpful feedback?” I raised my eyebrows.
“It’s just that you’ve never really shown interest in anyone like that before is all.” Sailor looked at Aisling and Persy for help, saw that they were still processing, then added hastily, “I may or may not have told him to not even try, and just marry Louisa to spare himself the heartache. I’m sorry, Belle. When you mentioned it the other day, it seemed like you were totally fine with them tying the knot.”
