Page 112 of Revenge Is a Dish Best Served… Wearing Heels?
Finding out a baby's on the way, Tristan rushing in here and saying things he had no business saying, figuring out that Aria had betrayed me. How could all this happen all at once?
It was insanity. Absolute insanity.
So I played along, pretending to be part of a happy couple, not wanting to make a scene in front of the woman who would be guiding my baby into the world—oh, my God,my baby.
And when she finally said her goodbyes, Tristan helped me up and out the door, his large hand on the small of my back, something about it protective and possessive at the same time.
I had to admit, it felt incredible, but God, did I even want that?
Yes, I most definitely did. But did I want that with Tristan D. Hawthorne?
This whole thing was exhausting, the visit with the doctor longer than I'd expected with her going over every little detail, from folic acid to fetal development milestones, as if I didn't already feel like I'd been hit by a freight train of epic proportions.
And of course, I had to pee again. Was it already starting, even though this kid was the size of a strawberry? Was this what I had to look forward to?
On the way to the elevator, we passed a bathroom, and I excused myself, Tristan gallantly saying, "Take your time, baby," as I left him there in the hallway.
I would not have a freak-out in the bathroom. I would not. I would save it all for when I got home.
Keeping my mind on that, exactly what I would do when I stepped inside my safe haven, imagining fuzzy socks, no bra, and a huge bowl of peanut butter cup ice cream, I managed to get through my restroom visit without crying or ending up in the fetal position on the floor.
And when I stepped back out into the hallway, I had the surprise of my life, again—my third? fourth of the day?
Tristan stood near the wall, chatting quietly to Aria, Annalise, Ethan, and Max.
Excuse me? What?
Was I currently hallucinating? Was the strawberry inside me making me lose my mind already?
I froze in place, my hands on my thighs where I'd been drying the last remnants of water from them, wondering if I needed glasses or something. Because this could not be real.
Surely Tristan was simply speaking to people who looked like them. Right?Right?
Wrong.
They all turned toward me at once, a myriad of expressions splashed across their faces.
Guilt from my sisters. Guilt from Ethan maybe? Max looking somewhat amused. Tristan smiling softly at me as he swiftly crossed to my side, his hand returning to the place on my lower back he seemed to like.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
"No. I'm not okay," I answered loudly. "What is going on?"
Aria bit her lip, while Annalise studied her nails, avoiding my death glare, which told me in an instant that they werebothin on it. Ethan too. They'd all decided for some godforsaken reason that Tristan should know about this appointment today, even though I'd told them...
Wait, I hadn't exactly told themnotto tell him. But it wasimplied. Of course, it was implied. It was sister code. You didn't tell the baby daddy about the pregnancy unless you had express permission from the soon-to-be mama.
My God. How could they not know that?
"It was her idea," Annalise spoke first, pointing a finger at Aria.
"I'm so sorry," my other traitorous sister said. "I just thought... I just thought..."
At that moment, a door opened behind us, and a couple exited one of the other medical offices on the floor, making me realize we were very much out in public, having a conversation that was intensely private.
Marching forward, I grabbed both of their wrists, then proceeded to haul them down the hallway like a woman possessed, like an angry mom about to scold her misbehaving kids, looking for any room that might do for a smidgeon of privacy.
And near the end, I found it, a supply closet that I kicked open with my foot, still wearing my heels, thank you very much, shoving them inside.
