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“Oh wait, so this is likethebachelor/bachelorette party?” I asked, confused. I picked up my phone to check the date.
“Oh my god, Weston. The wedding!”
“Is this Saturday—yeah, I know. We didn’t want to worry you with everything going on with Muriel. That needs to be your focus.”
“I have been the worst maid of honor. Like, what have I actually done?”
The guilt washed over me and I couldn’t stop it. How could I have forgotten the event that brought me into this entire ordeal to begin with? I had missed the dress shopping which was huge for Lucy and her growing midsection. I had no idea what she had decided on for the music. And I hadn’t even begun to think about the speech I was supposed to give.
“Uh-uh,” he waved a finger at my face putting a halt to the thoughts plaguing my mind. “You have gone above and beyond for everybody here. And your mother is in a coma. Why in the world are you concerned with anything other than that?”
His hands came up to my hips and drew me close to him.
I relaxed my head into his chest and breathed him in deeply. “What are we doing, Weston? All of this has gotten out of control. Everyone thinks we’re really married, that I’m really pregnant. You’re not even talking to your father, who made us do all this, to begin with.”
“I know,” he said. “But none of that matters. What matters is what you need right now. Forget about everyone else. Lucy, Dominic, Muriel, me. What does Quinn need…right now?”
His eyes watched me tenderly, and I got lost in their silky amber color.
I closed my eyes, trying not to let my emotions overtake me.
“I need...”
“Yeah?” he urged.
“I need…”
“Tell me, baby.”
“I need to throw up.” I pushed off of him and ran straight to the toilet, hurling everything inside me into that porcelain bowl.
“Are you okay?” He handed me a hand towel to wipe my face, then filled a glass with some water and gave it to me.
“I feel really sick.”
“You’ve barely eaten a thing. Do you want me to get you some soup?”
The thought of soup sent me hurling back into the bowl.
“Or maybe not,” he said, grimacing.
He bent down and held my hair back, allowing me to grip the bowl with two hands as I kept heaving empty bile.
“I don’t think you’re going anywhere tonight,” he said tenderly. “Let’s get you showered and into some pajamas.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
WESTON
I don’t thinkI’ve ever seen Quinn so fragile. Her face was pale, and I didn’t know what to do for her except be there for whatever she needed.
She fought me when I tried to put her to bed after telling the girls they needed to go on without her. She insisted she wasn’t sleepy, so I offered a movie in the theater room instead.
She agreed and was passed out within five minutes.
She slept so soundly in my lap that I didn’t want to move, even though I really had to pee. And I could hear my phone going off somewhere down the hall. I eased my way from under her and replaced my lap with a pillow.
She stayed asleep. Her soft breathing reminded me of a child sleeping peacefully without a worry in the world.
