Page 120 of Revenge Is a Dish Best Served… Wearing Heels?
I nodded.
"You can do this. I know you can."
Why he seemed to have so much faith in me, I couldn't fathom. Sure, I was strong in some respects. But this? It'd taken me right back to all the insecurities of adolescence, a place I desperately tried to avoid. Didn't most people?
Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the ballroom, deciding it was time to take that final push into the actual room and get this the hell over with.
Thirty-Two
Astrid
My mind took off with all the things that could go wrong of course. A dress mishap, or wine spilling down my cleavage and everyone laughing at me, or Tristan suddenly turning into a massive jerk straight from my nightmares.
Half expecting posters plastered on the walls, I was pleasantly surprised to find there were in fact no posters anywhere, only ornate wallpaper, elegant sconces, and servers roaming around with flutes of champagne.
Welp, one fear wiped away at least.
I clung to Tristan's arm as a few heads turned our way, but not that many, and certainly no one I recognized. Good? The longer I could put it off the better, although it would be smarter to get it over with, right?
But I was not in my right head tonight. Not walking into my potential torture chamber, not with Tristan Hawthorne beside me, and not with a baby growing inside me.
My world had turned upside down, and I was a complete mess figuring out how to process it all. Dragging Tristan to one side of the room, I needed to get my bearings, wanted to look around and see what all I had to deal with tonight.
Scanning the room, I studied each and every face, but didn't see anyone familiar. What a relief.
Tonight was about all of the alumni, not just from my year, so it made sense that there would be a ton of people I didn't know.
Tristan stood beside me, still with my hand tucked into his side, solid, reassuring with just his mere presence, even though he didn't say anything while I worked on my courage.
A server paused in front of us, holding her tray out. I started to grab a glass of the bubbly to help calm me, but then remembered. No alcohol.
Damn it.
"We're good. Thanks though," Tristan told her. Once she moved on, Tristan said in a low voice just for me, "In solidarity, I won't be drinking either while you're pregnant."
I swallowed. That was sweet. "I appreciate that, but you don't have to."
"I want to. And I'll be avoiding sushi, brie, no—"
"Wait, what?" I stared up at him. "Why are you avoiding brie?"
"Becauseyouhave to."
"I do?" The doctor had mentioned alcohol and sushi, but I couldn't remember anything about brie. "How do you know that?"
"I've been doing the research. Anything not pasteurized could be bad for the baby."
Sudden guilt washed over me because I hadn't even thought of doing any research like that. My brain took off as I tried to think back over everything I'd consumed since the winter ball, trying to remember if I'd had any brie. I'd certainly had some alcohol here and there.
Oh, God, I was already a horrible mom, just thinking about myself all the time as usual and not this poor baby growing inside me.
"Hey,hey," he repeated when I didn't look at him. "What are you thinking about?"
"Oh, you know, just going over every little thing I've done wrong since we slept together, everything I've eaten, every drop of alcohol, every..."
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he turned my body so I faced him fully. "The doctor already said not to worry about it, that anything you did before you knew you were pregnant was unlikely to have caused any harm. Remember?"
She'd been very reassuring, saying it was quite common for that to happen. But God, I couldn't recall the many, many specifics she'd gone over, my head swimming in shock, and I probably missed incredibly important information.
