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“I thought you were going to be next,” Juliette says to me. “First with Emmi, then Bridget, then Rachel. Every time, I’ve thought that was it, you were hooked.”
“I’m a great escape artist,” I reply, trying to pick a prawn up with my chopsticks.
“You guys,” she says. “You’re all sweethearts, even though you pretend not to be. You should all be married with two kids by now.”
We snort and shovel noodles in our mouths.
“Are you bringing anyone to the wedding?” I ask Alex.
“Nope.” He has a swig from his bottle of Coke Zero. “I’m hoping to hook up with one of the bridesmaids. The youngest one.”
We all chuckle. The youngest bridesmaid is Tyson’s half-sister, and she’s nine.
“What about you two?” I ask James and Henry.
“I’m bringing Cassie,” James says.
“Is she the brunette with the beauty spot above her lip?”
“That was Ruth. Cassie’s blonde with big…” He glances at Juliette. “Eyes,” he finishes lamely. She just gives a short laugh and stretches out her legs in the sun.
I grin and look at Henry. “Is Shaz coming?” I ask, referring to his wife.
He fishes out a piece of chicken from his box. “Nah. We broke up.”
We all look at him, shocked. He and Shaz—Sharon—have been together since university, and they married a couple of years ago. I hadn’t even known they were having issues and, judging by their surprise, neither had anyone else.
“She’s filed for divorce,” he says. “Should be all over by Christmas.”
“Fuck.” Tyson says what we’re all thinking.
“What happened?” Juliette asks gently.
Henry shrugs. “Difference of opinion.”
“Meaning what?”
“She wants kids.”
“And you don’t?”
He puts down his carton, unscrews his bottle of Sprite Zero, then sighs. “I can’t have them.”
Once again, we all stare at him, mouths open.
“Shit,” James says. “Sorry, man.”
“How do you know?” Alex asks.
“We’ve been trying since we got married,” Henry replies. “But nothing happened. So we had tests, and it turns out my swimmers aren’t up to it.” He studies his bottle, then has a swig.
The rest of us exchange glances, shocked at his admission. He’s only twenty-seven. It’s so young to be writing yourself off.
“What about IVF?” I ask. “Titus’s research has led to big leaps in the success rate.” My cousin, with Saxon’s help, has been using Artificial Intelligence to improve embryo selection.
“Or adoption?” James suggests. He’s adopted, so he’s a big proponent of it.
Henry screws the top back on the bottle. “We didn’t get that far. Infertility puts a lot of pressure on a relationship, and it turned out ours wasn’t strong enough to survive that. She started seeing someone else.”
