Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I can’t tell her that she was so wrapped up in planning for her big day that I didn’t want to detract from it with my own plans.
“I didn’t get a donor,” I confess.
She shakes her head in confusion before a slow smile spreads across her face. “The hot guy from accounting?”
I huff a humorless laugh. “No, and I told you I wasn’t even going to ask that man. He’s fucking weird.”
“He has good genes. The man is a smoke show, and he’s extremely organized.”
“Obsessively so. Did I tell you about the time he rearranged the furniture in his office… while I was sitting in the chair across from his desk. The man literally scooted me five inches to the right because I wasn’t lined up with the doorway framing me. Such a weirdo.”
She laughs, her face tanned from her beach honeymoon.
“How was your trip?” I ask, purposely trying to change the subject even though I know I won’t be able to for long. My news is pretty big news, and we’re going to end up having to talk about it. I just need time to figure out how much of the truth I’m going to tell her. If I was firing on all cylinders, I never would’ve told her I didn’t use a sperm donor from the fertility clinic. She doesn’t have access to my financials. She’d never know that I didn’t fork over that money for a frozen baby daddy.
“It was amazing, but you’d know that if you hadn’t been ignoring me for the last week since I got back.”
Guilt swims in my gut, but it’s also tinted with the reminder that she’s also been back for a week and is just now showing up at my house.
This is exactly what I was afraid of. I knew things would be different after she tied the knot. We’ve been friends for half our lives, but now Spencer is the number one person in her life, and he honestly should be. This mid-life crisis I seem to be having has a lot to do with why I wanted to have a baby in the first place. It would be decades before a baby replaces me with a grown adult, and I know how fucked up that sounds but I need someone who needs me, and I’m thirty-five for fuck’s sake. My biological clock is ticking down. By the time I found a good man and got to the point in our relationship where we both wanted kids, I could possibly have no eggs left to fertilize.
“Is Spencer as tan as you are?”
“Are we really going to talk about my trip over the baby growing in your womb?”
I wipe the remaining tears from my face as I stand. Beth steps to the side so I can run some water to rinse my face.
“There’s really nothing to talk about.”
“No, ma’am,” she snaps. “You said there was no donor, and that brings on a million more questions. Who is it? Are you dating him? Was it sort of a happy accident? When exactly did it happen?”
“At your wedding,” I confess, knowing it would probably be better to lie in an effort to prevent her from getting on the trail of what happened with Kit that weekend.
“Is that right?” she asks, meeting my gaze in the mirror as I swipe a washrag under my eyes. “Who is it?”
I swallow the urge to just tell her everything. She’s my best friend, but she wouldn’t be if I told her what I did.
“Brooks Morgan.”
I nearly choke on the lie, wondering if she’s going to call me on it as her eyes narrow before her lips turn up in a grin.
Oh shit. I’ve only made things worse.
“It was an accident. I mean we didn’t accidentally have sex, but yeah. I’m pregnant, and it’s no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal.”
“It’s not,” I argue. “I don’t even think I’m going to tell him. I was planning on raising a child on my own anyway so there’s—”
“Jules! You have to tell him.”
“I don’t.” I shake my head to solidify my intention. “I’m not going to.”
I turn my attention back to the mirror, making sure to get all the mascara I was too tired to take off before bed last night. It only got worse when I woke up in the middle of the night insanely nauseous. I was going to wait for the doctor’s office to confirm the pregnancy, but I just had to know. I cried myself back to sleep after taking the first three tests at midnight.
“I’ll go with you.”
“What?”
“To tell Brooks. Get dressed. We can go this morning.”
“No, Beth. I’m not telling him.”
“He deserves to know.”
“I know,” I agree. “Can we just wait? He doesn’t have to know right now.”
I actually need to make a plan for this. Maybe Brooks would go along with the lie? But I wouldn’t be able to know that while Beth is standing right beside me when he first hears about the pregnancy.