Page 16 of Beloved Beauty

“Since you don’t have a care provider yet, I recommend Dr. Meera Shah. She’s brilliant. Gentle, practical, no scare tactics. You’d love her. She’s a straight shooter. The good kind.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll make an appointment with her.”

We step back into the restaurant, slipping into the low buzz of clinking glasses and murmured conversation. Things have changed little at the table—Alex still leans back with his beer, Kye animated as he talks through preseason plans.

There’s a natural lull now—the unmistakable post-dinner exhale when everyone’s full, content, and not quite ready to move. Krishna gives Kye a look—one of those silent married glances that says everything—and he responds with a knowing nod.

“Shall we?” he asks, already reaching for his jacket.

We gather our things, sliding out of the booth and murmuring thank-yous to the staff as we make our way out.

In the car, I stare out the G-Wagon window, watching the Sydney skyline stretch and blur—city lights smudging into long watercolor streaks across the glass. Alex glances over a few times, quiet, reading me in that way he does.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, slow. Thoughtful. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

But the things I’m thinking about aren’t small.

It’s more than the conversation with Kye, which will shift the entire trajectory of our lives. More than the soft flutter of a baby. More than Krishna’s story, though it lingers. It’s the weight of the complete picture. The scope of what’s ahead.

It’s our future, widening, unfolding—a road I hadn’t fully seen until now. And suddenly, I can’t unsee it.

Chapter 6

Magnolia Steel

The estate resembles something lifted from the pages of Vogue Living with wrought-iron gates and a white stone drive that curves toward a Spanish-style villa glowing beneath warm lights. The fragrance of citrus trees in bloom wraps around us the second we step from the car.

Alex’s hand settles at the small of my back as we walk toward the entrance of Kye and Krishna’s home.

“You good, babe?”

I nod, even though my stomach is a mess of nerves. “Please don’t let me trip in these heels.”

He chuckles, leans down, and presses a kiss to my temple. “You’ve got this. You’re already the best-looking woman here.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

God. This man.

Inside, the house is buzzing—music humming low, glasses clinking, polished laughter echoing off stone walls and high ceilings. People move with an ease I don’t yet have, but I’m trying. I smile when I should. I hold my clutch just so. And I keep reminding myself that I belong here, because Alex says I do—and maybe I’m starting to believe it.

The wives have gathered near the long marble island in the enormous kitchen, drinks in hand, perfectly highlighted hair catching the light.

I brace—but then I hear it. “Magnolia!”

It’s Krishna, radiant in a wrap dress that does dangerous things for the baby bump she’s rocking. She pulls me into a warm hug, and the knot in my chest loosens.

“You are stunning,” she says, holding me at arm’s length. “Also, these earrings? Illegal.”

I reach up, fingers grazing the delicate gold-and-diamond earrings swaying below my jaw. “Alex surprised me with them tonight.”

Krishna grins, her eyes soft. “Wasn’t that sweet? I can’t imagine a more perfect way to start a marriage—with thoughtfulness and a little sparkle.”

Callie steps up next, her sleek ponytail swaying as she closes the distance, a flute of something sparkling in her hand. “There she is,” she says, her grin wide. “I was hoping I’d get to hear that accent again tonight.”

---