Page 62 of Eternal Pieces

“No,” I tell her the truth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I lean back against the headboard on what may be the softest bed in existence and let my fifth mocktail settle in my stomach. Or more like my bladder. I swear, all it takes is the tiniest sip for it to fill up these days.

“You have to tell me…” Sarah leans in close, a desperate need for information on her face. “Have they ever switched, and you didn’t know which one it was until after you’d had sex?”

Sarah ordered us some alcohol free cocktails from room service to go with the cupcakes she’d brought with her from a bespoke bakery. One of the drinks ended up being full of alcohol, so rather than cause a fuss, Sarah volunteered her services to drink it. I’m starting to think that was a bad idea, as she’s been asking me all sorts of intimate questions about my love life for the past thirty minutes.

Avoiding the question, I excuse myself to the bathroom. She makes room for me to get off the bed and accidentally knocks her drink over onto the sheets. “Ah, crap. At least this is my bed for the night and not yours.” She slurs her words. I’m surprised one jug has made her this drunk.

After using the toilet, I grab some damp cloths and help her clean up.

“So have they?” She sits back on the bed with her legs crossed, eagerly awaiting my answer.

“I’m not getting out of this one, am I?” I laugh and she shakes her head, her curly hair swaying side to side. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s where. There are a lot of limbs involved, and it gets difficult to know up from down after a few, you know…orgasms. I did wake up one morning thinking it was Max down there when it was actually Maddox.” I bite my lip as I remember the delicious memory.

“You’re living the dream!” She swoons. Her curiosity is far from sated though as she asks, “Do they have the same dicks? The rest of them is completely the same apart from Mad’s tattoos and hair, obviously! But like the natural parts are they all you know…” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“How many drinks have you actually had?” I laugh and sit down next to her.

She holds up the empty jug like it’s a trophy. “Umm, however many this was.” We both break into a fit of giggles. The sugary fruit juice has gone straight to my head, and mixed with my excitement about tomorrow, has left me feeling tipsy.

“Back to the question. What did I ask you again? I don’t remember, but I do remember that I wanted to ask you if you’re sure you’re happy.”

That took an unexpected turn.

“Why would you think I’m not happy?” I shift closer to her on the bed.

“Nothappyhappy. I know you’re super loved up with your guys, but this…” Spreading her arms out, she almost knocks the tray of drinks over again. I move them to the bedside table to be safe. “You had to settle for it, and I feel like I’ve let you down.”

“Sarah, you’ve done more for me than I ever could have asked. You went out of your way to plan all of this for me. You even got us matching pajamas.” I tug on the white, silknightshirt I’m wearing that has the wordbrideembroidered over the breast. Her’s hasmaid of honorin its place. I’m very surprised she found any that could fit over my ginormous bump. “I shouldn’t have left it until the last minute to find a venue, but I’m fine with it. So yes, I’m very happy.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. No more feeling down! Let’s pick another movie and avoid any more cocktails for the rest of the night. You can tell me about your upcoming trip.” I search the bed for the remote, and she tidies up the leftover cupcakes that have been our only food so far.

She groans and flops back down next to me. “Don’t get me started on that. I’m dreading being stuck on a plane with my parents and having to tell them about my job.”

Her parents are in the movie industry, and from what she’s told me, they’ve always expected her to follow in their footsteps, but she’s decided to carve her own path working part-time as a teaching assistant starting this fall.

She yawns and pulls herself back up, her head drooping onto my shoulder. “Why am I so sleepy? Alcohol usually has the opposite effect on me.”

“You’ve definitely had way too much. We should order something carb-y to help sober you up,” I suggest.

“Ooh, how about pizza? Let me order it, you’re not to lift a finger!” she slurs, her body growing heavy against mine. Taking the remote out of my hand, she lifts it to her ear. “Two pepperoni pizzas, please.”

“Okay, definitely time for bed.” The remote slips out of her hand as I lie her down. Her eyes are barely open as her head touches the pillow.

“No! We need to do face masks and…I’ve ruined it, haven’t I? Please don’t hate me,” she mumbles.

“You’ve not ruined anything.” I’m not annoyed with her at all. I understand she’s still holding onto a lot of pain from her old friends all dumping her, and she thinks she needs to try twice as hard to be friends with me. But I’m not going anywhere.

I know how difficult it is to get past anxiety. Even when you think you’ve gotten rid of it, some roots still remain, tripping you up when your guard is down.

“You’re going to be such a good Mom.” She falls asleep with a smile on her face.

Switching the lights off, I softly close the door and leave her to sleep it off.

It’s almost midnight, but I’m not exactly tired. The sugar’s still buzzing in my system and keeping the triplets up as they practice kickboxing with my organs.

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