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“None of that is surprising. Except they don’t approve of Arya, but they approve of me? When did that happen?” Regina chuckled.
“Arya isn’t from a wealthy family. And, according to Rebecca Adler standards, she isn’t sophisticated. Mostly, though, they don’t believe in divorce–especially Mom. It looks bad. That’s why she’d rather put up with you than have me move on with someone else. It doesn’t make any fucking sense if you ask me, but here we are.”
She chuckled before her face clouded over in sadness.
“What about Arya's family? The McKennas?”
“I mean, they’re intimidated by my family and really, I can't blame them. Mason is the likely successor to my father as CEO of the distillery. So, obviously, he doesn’t want Arya and me to mess that up for him. Ellen, Mason and Arya’s mom, is familiar with how the social circles work in Bardstown. She owns her own business–a bakery–and she doesn’t want to go against my mom and have her trash her business. My mom bullies a lot of women around, albeit subtly.”
“And your grandparents? What do they think?”
“They love Arya. They always have. I’m ninety-nine percent certain Gram doesn’t think I’m good enough for her.”
We both laughed softly.
“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. And Arya, too.” Regina held my hand, and it felt good to have this conversation with her. I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk to someone about all of this face-to-face. When I said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous, like this was an episode of the Southern Sopranos.
“Thanks Regina. That means everything to me.”
I rubbed her hand, taking comfort in her gesture of friendship.
Something outside the window caught my eye, and I turned. Arya. She was crossing the street and looked straight in at us. This did not look good. I could see the image in my mind–Regina and me sitting in a restaurant holding hands, no sign of Shiloh anywhere. It looked like we were on a date. Fuck.
Chapter 22
Arya
Mynerveswerejitteryand my mind was racing as I sat on the edge of the counter with my eyes glued to the timer on my phone.
Two minutes, thirty seconds. An eternity.
I’d been sick the last few days, and my appetite was all messed up. My mornings were mostly spent feeling nauseous and I suddenly hated the smell of chicken curry. Kate had mentioned, enviously, that my breasts looked firmer and fuller than usual. So, this afternoon, she picked me up at the bakery to go to the pharmacy to get a pregnancy test.
I thought she was being dramatic, but quickly realized she might be right.
As we were leaving the drugstore and heading back to her car, I saw Regina and Tristan having a cozy lunch at the diner.
I was heartbroken.
I knew it had been foolish thinking on my part to believe that things would turn out okay for me and Tristan, but still, I had believed it. In the end, he and Regina had history. And they had a child together. But now…
One minute.
I couldn’t wait, I peeked at the test and saw that positive sign, clear as day.
I was pregnant.
With Tristan’s child.
My head fell into my hands. I couldn’t be pregnant. Not like this.
Mason had been right. I just don’t think things through and keep making the wrong choices.
Regina and Tristan looked like they were on the verge of getting back together, and here I was, pregnant. He probably wasn’t interested in me anymore, but now he had no choice but to at least see me sometimes.
I held back tears, knowing that I still needed to cover the shift at the bakery. It was going to be a busy afternoon, and I needed to pull it together.
I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the pregnancy. Not even Tristan. I knew Katie would ask. She had been kind enough to give me some privacy, but she’d be calling or texting me soon.
