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’d be okay with that,” Marjorie adds.
“Gross, Mom,” Beth mutters, and the delicious meal I’ve consumed starts to turn sour in my stomach when I look up and find my best friend watching me. It’s an expectant look that makes my hackles rise.
I refuse to engage. I know today has to be hard enough for Kit to sit across the table with his lips sealed, and I won’t appease my best friend by agreeing with her because it would hurt him more.
Or maybe I don’t want to anger him further because the truth would come spilling from his lips.
I’m trembling by this point, so disappointed in my best friend for the challenge in her eyes.
Conversation switches once again, and I drop my eyes to pretend I’m still eating even though the sight of the food left on my plate makes my stomach twist.
“You okay?” Brooks asks, leaning in a little closer so his question is private.
I glare down at the hand he’s placed on my thigh, and it makes me feel absolutely disgusting.
As discreetly as I can, I shove his hand away. He made a point to tell me not to touch him, and even though he’s helping me with my lies, that doesn’t earn him the right to touch me.
I can accept that I’m pissed more at the situation than the comfort he’s trying to offer, but I can’t emotionally pick between the two right now.
“I don’t feel well,” I say loud enough for others around to hear.
I need to start working on the excuse that will get me out of here quicker.
“Still fighting morning sickness?” Becca asks, and I want to hug her for taking the bait.
I nod, just another lie. I do feel like I’m going to be sick but it’s emotional disquiet that’s making me sick to my stomach right now.
She gives me a commiserating smile.
“Should we go?” Brooks asks, keeping his hand to himself this time.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell Marjorie.
She waves my apology away. “I completely understand, dear.”
“I want to get a few pictures first,” Beth says, standing as Brooks and I do.
I know doing what she asks is the quickest way to escape, so I don’t argue.
Finished with their meals, several of the others start to rise from the table as well.
“Over here by the staircase,” Beth says, pointing to the exact location where Jason, Anders, and Gannon have taken pictures with their wives during every holiday and every time they announced a pregnancy. This spot is a family tradition, and I’m both elated by being included, and saddened at the lie.
Brooks must feel just as uncomfortable, but instead of blurting the truth, he obediently stands behind me as Beth works on lining up the shot.
“Maybe act like you actually like each other?” Beth chastises.
“Beth,” I groan, cringing when Brooks places a stiff hand on my hip.
“Better,” my friend says. “Now Spencer, take some with all the best friends?”
I watch in horror as Beth waves Kit closer, insinuating that he needs to be in the picture with us. He keeps his eyes locked on me as he approaches. I fake a smile as Spencer clicks away.
“And now just Kit and Jules,” Beth says, stepping away to take her phone back from her husband.
I don’t argue because I’m afraid doing so would raise too much suspicion.
Beth looks down at her phone, smiling as she goes through the photos. “I’ll send you the best ones.”
I nod, unable to get away from that sacred place fast enough.
A round of hugs and goodbyes later, and I’m walking toward Brooks’s truck with sadness in my heart.
He doesn’t say a word as he opens the passenger door for me, and I’m not brave enough to look him in the eyes as I climb inside.
The drive back to my house is silent. I won’t thank him again for lying for me because he would hate gratitude for his role in my betrayal. I wouldn’t patronize him that way.
I do my best to keep my tears at bay, but I just can’t. As discreetly as I can, I wipe away the ones that manage to fall. Brooks could easily berate me or use my pain as one more opportunity to ask me to confess my sins, but he doesn’t.
The tears I try my hardest to keep from falling rush down my cheeks when we park in my driveway because my door opens and Kit is standing right there.
“I’ve got it from here, man,” he tells Brooks before reaching for my hand.
I don’t fucking deserve either of these men.
Chapter 27
Kit
“Was it the rice?” I ask as we step inside her house. “It was a little spicy. I’ll let Mom know you can’t have spicy things.”
“I just don’t feel well,” she says.
“Should we go to the hospital?” I ask. God, if there’s anything seriously wrong with the baby, I’ll lose my fucking mind.