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At that, she loops her arm around my waist and looks at me adoringly. My heart flutters.
“There have been some questions surrounding your relationship and a recent trip to a clinic in San Francisco. Would you like to share with us what happened?” The reporter sticks the microphone in Erica’s face, and she takes a step back and looks at me.
I nod, letting her know it’s okay to answer.
“It was just a touch of food poisoning.” Erica smiles.
“Can you tell us when you plan to set a date for the wedding?” I decide to take that one, taking some pressure off Erica.
“Not yet. We are going to let the excitement of the film’s premiere die down first and then talk about a date. We can only handle so much excitement at one time.” I chuckle, and the reporter feigns a laugh at my joke.
“Erica, one of the rumors was that you might be pregnant,” the reporter pauses for effect. “Are these rumors true?”
The reporter focuses on Erica's belly, which is flat as a pancake in her dress.
Erica stammers laughs, and says, “No, of course not. I have gained a bit of weight, but I have a demanding schedule and not much time to work out these last several months.”
Erica is wringing her hands, which she does when uncomfortable. Why would this question make her uncomfortable? I look at Erica, and a strange feeling comes over me. Why is she so nervous? She is always so steady; nothing ever rattles her.
“One last question,” the reporter says. “Is it true that your family, specifically your mother, was not entirely on board with your engagement?”
More hand wringing from Erica and a nervous chuckle. “Well, when I told them about the engagement, I wanted to leave Aaron’s name out of it until he finished his movie. I was trying to give him privacy during an especially stressful time. He didn’t need reporters hounding him on top of everything else.” Zing. That’s my girl.
“Now that they know it’s Aaron, they are completely on board.” Erica slides her hand into mine and kisses the back of my hand.
The reporter looks irritated and ends her interrogation by thanking us for our time. As she walks away, I kiss Erica’s cheek and thank her for her fantastic wit.
She replies, “Anything for you.”
The chime letting us know the premiere is about to start can be heard over the din of conversation and laughter. We begin making our way into the theater. I accept congratulations and kudos on the way in, shaking hands with prominent producers, directors, and some of the actors. Erica smiles and shakes hands, taking compliments on how beautiful she looks. I couldn’t agree more. She is stunning. I kind of like the weight she’s put on. She looks more feminine and supple. I feel protective of her and put my arm around her as we find our row.
We find our seats reserved for us up front and sit down together. Erica tries to tuck her dress around her. I bend down and help her. The lights dim, and I look over at Erica with excitement. This film will make my career, and there is no one I want to share this moment with more than her.
I should be watching the film, but I am having difficulty getting my eyes off Erica. Besides, I’ve already seen the movie. I feel like I’m seeing her for the first time. I have butterflies in my stomach like a darn teenager. She is looking intently at the movie and puts her hand on my arm during the intense parts. My arm tingles and I put my hand over hers so she doesn’t pull it away. Suddenly, she stands up and rushes out. When she comes back, she looks pale and sweaty. I hope she isn’t getting sick.
“Are you all right?” I ask her when she sits down.
She pops a mint in her mouth and nods a yes, all the while looking at the screen, hands clasped against her belly.
Erica is acting strangely. She is quiet and apparently sick. After the clinic video and up until the premiere, she ghosted me. As pieces fall into place, I feel like someone has punched me in the stomach. Realization sinks in. I remember those two incredible nights in Orlando, the clinic, the weight gain, the napping, not drinking, and now this. Oh my freaking god, she’s pregnant. I break out in a sweat. A baby? Why hasn’t she told me yet?
It’s the middle of the movie, and this is terrible timing, but I can’t keep it in. It’s too much. I lean over to Erica.
“Are you pregnant?” I hiss in her ear.
She flushes crimson and whispers back, “Your movie is amazing. Let’s finish watching it, and we can talk afterward, okay?”
She gives me a pleading look. I pay attention to the film, but I have too many questions. Damn it. What was she waiting for? I fidget in my chair, trying to be discreet, but emotions are rolling over me, suffocating me. I feel like a fool. I practically jump out of my seat. I need some air.
All the events since we lied about the engagement are coming at me. A picture is forming clearly in my mind: a baby.
I’m halfway across the lobby when I hear my name.
“Aaron, Aaron!” I hear her calling out to me, but I keep walking.
I don’t want to do this here — too many prying eyes and ears. I get outside and hope for a private space. I can’t wait until we get home to have this conversation. Tears prick the back of my eyes. Anger and excitement are fighting for front and center. I give in to anger and let it ride.
Chapter Twenty
