Page 65 of It Must Be Fate

There’s a dreamy expression on her face that only one man knows how to put there.

“If I didn’t already know who was just at the door, your face would say it all,” Six tells her.

“It was Rogue,” she answers with a lovestruck sigh that would frankly be disgusting if I didn’t feel the exact same way about my own husband.

“Let me guess,” Thayer says. “He came to tell you to never leave without saying goodbye again?”

“He came to apologize.” She sits back down on the couch, placing the flowers on the coffee table. She takes a box out of the paper bag and sets it on her lap. “When we went to Paris for our honeymoon, he took me to this amazing patisserie where I tried a cake calledLe Merveilleux.”

“Yum, those are the best!” Six says.

“The best. I’m obsessed with them. I think I ate one every day we were there,” she says with a laugh. “Apparently, when Rogue woke up this morning and saw I’d left, he knew I was upset.” She opens the lid on the box and turns it to face us so we can look at its contents. “So he flew to Paris and got some in every flavor to show me he was sorry. He just got back. Who wants one?”

“Stop,” I say.

“I’ll have one,” Thayer answers, reaching into the box.

“Andthenyes, he told me I’m never allowed to leave without saying goodbye again,” Bellamy adds.

Thayer speaks around a mouthful of cake.

“Oh, my gosh, these are delicious.”

Six moans as she bites into hers. “Brings back all sorts of memories.”

I take a bite of one myself, relishing in the taste of cream, meringue, and chocolate. “Delicious. And I’m glad that’s settled, B. I know you were feeling anxious about it.”

“Mhmm.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes before Bellamy speaks again. “But anyway, to go back to what we were discussing before he interrupted us—I see why you and Tristan are popping out kids at the rate some would pop drugs in a nightclub.”

I narrow my eyes at Thayer who opens her mouth, silently warning her not to talk about how hot Tristan is again.

My friends have possessive husbands, and so do I, but I’m also a jealous wife. I can’t stand the thought of anyone looking at him, much less talking or, god forbid, touching him. I don’t know how Thayer puts up with her husband being in the spotlight and the subject of mass adoration at the hands of women everywhere. I couldn’t do it.

I’m lucky that his obsession with me doesn’t seem to be cooling with age. If anything, the more time we spend together, the more he wants from me.

“Believe it or not, they’re not being popped out fast enough. If it were up to him, I’d be pregnant again right now.”

***

A month later, I’m in my bathroom getting ready for the day when nausea hits me out of nowhere and takes me out at the knees. I’m clutching my stomach and diving for the toilet in the same second, getting the lid up right in the nick of time.

I throw up the breakfast Tristan just made me, watching the contents of my stomach hit the bowl with some measure of detachment.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to be the type of bout of nausea where you puke and immediately feel better, which issoinconvenient. I have things to do today.

Tristan and I are working on opening his tenth restaurant. It’s a big project, one I’m leading from a design and interiordecoration standpoint, and today I’m meant to share my mood boards with him.

I’ve spentmonthsworking on them. Digging through thousands of images and curating every single one I used until the board was perfect and fully captured the vibe I was going for — moody, sexy, and elegant.

His concept is an upscale Japanese restaurant. It's been his passion project since we spent three amazing weeks in Japan for our honeymoon. Every dish is inspired by memories we made there.

He recently cooked the whole menu for me and every bite brought tears to my eyes.

It’s his best work to date.

This is his most important launch and I want to make him proud, especially because it means so much to the both of us. He’s always so supportive of everything I do, whether professionally or otherwise, and I want to give the same back to him. I’m hoping the nausea will pass quickly and I can pull myself together so I don’t disappoint him.

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