Page 112 of Love or Leave

Willow sunk to the floor in front of the toilet and wiped her mouth with toilet paper.

Chelsea pushed the half-open door the rest of the way and paused, her eyes going wide as she assessed the scene in front of her. Cara and Natalie pressed in behind her.

"I'm okay," Willow said with a pathetic little wave.

She flushed the toilet and tried to stand, but the swirling in her stomach kept her on the floor.

"How long have you been like this?" Chelsea asked.

"A few days."

Chelsea covered a wince, then glanced over her shoulder at Natalie. Natalie's eyes softened as she offered a faint smile and a small shrug.

"I'm sorry," Willow said, wishing she could feel normal that morning—of all mornings—to support Chelsea. "I don't—I didn't—"

"Wait," Cara said, placing one hand on each of their friends' shoulders and leaning forward, as if to brace herself. "Do you think you might be pregnant, Willow?"

Chelsea immediately turned and pushed by Cara and Natalie, leaving the bathroom, and Willow wanted to cry. This was the worst timing ever. She was ruining Chelsea's wedding day, and she had no idea what Max's reaction would be.

He didn't really do surprises.

She needed to get up, brush this aside, and pretend it wasn't happening. She’d deal with it tomorrow.

She pushed off the toilet and stood just as Chelsea came back into the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, Chelsea. I'm just going to shake it off for now and—"

"Here."

Chelsea held out a pregnancy test to Willow. Natalie and Cara slowly turned toward her, their eyes wide.

"You just have those lying around?" Cara asked.

Chelsea nodded. "Me and Adam started trying. No luck yet," she said, sliding another glance toward Natalie, who went uncharacteristically silent.

Willow clutched her stomach as another wave of nausea raced through her. She took the outstretched box and turned toward the toilet.

"We'll give you some privacy," Cara said.

Her friends left the room, and Willow pulled out the test with a resigned sigh.

It was probably better to know.

Antonio pulled to a stop outside the clubhouse and grabbed his bag from the backseat. An overnight winter storm had blanketed all of Mapleton in snow, but the roads were clear, and the country club was warm. It was going to be a great night.

He walked in and spotted Max right away. He was sitting in a brown leather chair, looking relaxed, with his ankle over his knee and a tray of coffees on the low table in front of him.

Perfect.

He'd hoped that arriving early might give him a chance to talk to Max alone. Max was always early. And Antonio needed a quick word, preferably with no one else around.

Max looked up as he approached and tipped his chin in the air. "Coffee?"

Antonio nodded and joined him, sitting in the matching chair opposite him. He set his bag down and grabbed a cup.

"You're early," Max said.

Antonio nodded, taking a sip of the hot coffee before speaking. "Actually, I was hoping to talk to you."

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