Uncle Braxton sounds kind of awesome. But my happiness for Selene is tinged with worry for Kylie. I hope nothing is wrong with my girl. The idea that it could be serious is almost too much for me to contemplate.
7: Kylie
I sip my cup of coffee and stare out at the rain through the café window. Seeing the doctor shook me up more than I thought it would. After all, I’ve taken at least five pregnancy tests at this point, and they all said the same thing. Why was it surprising when my doctor smiled and congratulated me on my pregnancy?
I have a feeling Braxton knows something is up. All through dinner with my dad last night, he kept giving me weird looks. I wonder if Selene said something that made him wary. I know she didn’t tell him what’s going on, but she might have let something slip that got him concerned. I almost told him the truth last night, but I decided to stick with my resolve to see the doctor first.
Now that I’ve seen the doctor, I need to find time to tell him. But he’s working until late this afternoon, and we have the wedding rehearsal tonight. Then the wedding tomorrow.
The more I think about it, the more I’d like to do something special to tell him. Rather than just blurt out, “I’m pregnant!” I’d really like to surprise him.
I bring up Pinterest on my phone and search for pregnancy announcement ideas. The first thirty or so pictures look way too complicated for my capabilities. I’m artistic, but I’m not very crafty, and I don’t have a lot of time to work with. But I get a few ideas, and I think I can do something fun for him. I’ll wait until Sunday, after the wedding. I figure we should concentrate on one life-changing event at a time.
My eyes scan all the splashes of baby blue, soft pink, and pale yellow. I see little ducks and teddy bears, blankets and bottles. Looking at pregnancy announcements leads me down a rabbit hole of baby stuff. Showers, parties, decorated nurseries. Everything is so fucking cute. Yeah, it’s overwhelming, and I think it might take the next eight or so months for it to sink in that this is happening. But I can’t keep the smile off my face as I browse through pictures of tiny footprints, polka-dotted crib sheets, and some stunningly beautiful maternity photo shoots.
I get to a photo of a father holding a newborn baby on his chest, and the tears that have been threatening finally fall. I can see it so clearly: Braxton holding our tiny newborn against his bare skin, his thick tattooed arms, roped with muscle, contrasting with the baby’s soft skin.
I think about how much he loves me. How deep his feelings run, and how they haven’t faltered for a single second since that night in London when he put his ring on my finger. He makes me feel like he’s laying down at my feet to worship me. It’s not just that he loved me in secret for so long. It’s that the love he feels for me is so real, and so pure—and so much—that it never runs out. It never wavers.
That’s how Brax is going to love our child. He’s going to take one look at this baby and he’s going to fall for him or her like he fell for me. And just the thought of it—the thought of seeing him melt for our baby—makes me love him so much I break down sobbing in the middle of the coffee shop.
I didn’t think I could love him any more. He’s been in my heart for as long as I can remember, and since we’ve been together that love has done nothing but grow. And yet now, staring at this photo of a man with a tiny infant, I feel my heart swell, like it could burst in my chest.
This is so true, and so real, and so right. I wipe the tears, not caring whether the other people in the café are staring at me. My god, he’s going to be such a good father. I desperately hope his parents can see him now, because they are going to be so proud.
It takes me another ten minutes to get my shit together. I tearfully browse through more baby stuff, letting the reality sink in. I wonder if I’m so emotional because this is such a big deal, or because of the pregnancy itself. That’s a thing, right? Feeling like you’re drowning in feelings you can barely contain?
I head home and take a long shower to settle myself down. The hot water helps. Usually I’d down a shot when I feel this keyed up, but that’s not an option.
Before Brax gets home, I design a card to tell him the news. I keep the look simple, with a pinstripe border that turns into a tiny heart in one corner. I decide to get a little saucy, and put To My Hot DILF on the front. On the inside, I write you + me = three.
It’s nothing elaborate, but I think he’ll like finding out this way.
I can’t wait to see the look on his face.
By the time Brax gets home from work, and it’s time to get dressed for the rehearsal, I’m back to my normal self. I put on a fluttery yellow dress that makes my boobs look fantastic (and are they maybe a little bigger?), and help Braxton with the buttons on his shirt. It’s not that he can’t button them himself—but fuck, he looks so hot when he dresses up, I’ll use any excuse to touch him. It takes quite a bit of willpower not to unbutton that shirt and rip it off him. But we can’t be late.
The rain has finally stopped, but we still rehearse the ceremony inside. If the sun comes out tomorrow, the staff will move things outdoors. It will be a simple wedding; watching Selene and Ronan stand facing each other, hand in hand, almost makes me start sobbing again. I manage to hold it in check, although a few tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
I’m going to be an absolute wreck tomorrow when they do the real thing.
Afterward, we all meet up at a nearby Italian restaurant for dinner. I’m so tired I don’t even want to sit through the meal, but I figure I just need to do my best to pretend I’m fine.
Braxton pulls out my chair at the long table and I take a seat. Something in this place smells odd, and it’s making my tummy do strange swirly things.
I lean in so I can speak quietly to Brax. “Do you smell that?”
He sniffs. “I don’t know. What am I smelling?”
I breathe in again. Yep, something smells awful. “You can’t smell that? Seriously?”
“No.” His brow furrows and he puts his hand on my thigh. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t know what smells weird.”
The people at the table start to chat, and a waiter comes out to pour wine. I try to decline, but Braxton moves my wineglass closer so he can pour. Uh oh. What am I going to do about this? If I don’t drink it, I’ll have to explain why. Can I maybe take a few sips? Or is the tiniest amount of alcohol going to poison my child? Fuck.
Ronan’s parents and brother are sitting down the table from me, and I’m having a hard time reconciling that these rather soft-spoken people are his family. I suppose I expected his father to be more like him. They look alike—the resemblance between Ronan, his brother Damon, and their father is striking. But where Ronan’s face is always full of intensity and drive, his dad and brother both seem very laid back.
His mother is absolutely the sweetest; I found myself hugging her at the rehearsal and almost asking her to adopt me. Brax and I are both short on mothers, so I guess I have a soft spot for nice mothers-in-law. And it’s obvious they love Selene, which endears them to me instantly.
My dad is at the end of the table, and although he’s in his wheelchair, he’s been doing better lately. He grasps his glass of wine and holds it up, and that simple action almost makes me cry. He’s having a good day, and I desperately hope it continues through the weekend. He’s walking Selene up the aisle tomorrow, although unlike at my wedding, I don’t think he’ll get up and actually walk. She’s been trying to talk him out of it, knowing how much it cost him to do so at my wedding.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Dad says, his clear voice carrying over the din of conversation. We all raise our glasses. “Selene, it has been a privilege to watch you grow up into the wonderful woman you are today. Nothing gives me more joy than seeing my family grow. And on this, the eve of your wedding, I want to tell you both how happy I am for you. To Selene and Ronan.”
Everyone lifts their glasses and echoes his toast. “To Selene a
nd Ronan!”
I mutter something incoherent because I can’t quite form words, then bite my lip to keep from crying. I give my dad a weak smile and take a sip of my wine. My eyes widen as I realize what I just did. Oh, god. What do I do now? I can’t spit it out. I swallow and put the glass down, hoping no one saw my face.
One sip is okay, right? The baby is so tiny now. I don’t want to hurt him. Or her. Holy shit, it’s going to be a him, or a her. A real person. But what else would it be? I’m not having a fucking puppy.
I really need to pull myself together.
The waiter brings out the food. It’s all served family-style, on large platters in the center of the table. Normally I love Italian food, but I eye the selection warily. The chicken is a definite no-go. I almost can’t look at it without gagging. The fettuccine looks like I can probably handle it, and I might be able to stomach a meatball with marinara sauce. The rest looks like it’s going to send me running for the bathroom, which would make it very hard to keep my secret from Braxton for another day and a half.
I make it through the meal, and I’m pretty sure I’m not rousing any suspicion. I leave the rest of my wine, but no one mentions it. I almost break down in tears again when someone suggests going out for more drinks—I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open—but Selene and Ronan both decline, and even Brax says he’s ready to go home. We say goodbye to everyone outside, and get in Braxton’s car.
He turns the key in the ignition, but puts a hand on my thigh and looks at me for a long moment.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” Uh oh. He can tell something is going on. “I’m just tired. I’m excited for the wedding, but I’ll be kind of glad when it’s over.”
He leans in and kisses me softly. “All right. If you’re sure.”
I almost say it, right here. My heart beats wildly, and pings of nervousness tingle my skin. But I want to surprise him on Sunday, when we can focus on this. Focus on us. “I’m sure. I think I just need a good night’s sleep.”
Brax holds my hand on the drive home, his fingers twined with mine. I cast glances at him from the corner of my eye, and it’s all I can do not to melt into a puddle of insane laughter and tears right here in the car.
God, I love him so much.
8: Kylie
Saturday dawns clear and beautiful, and by late afternoon the sun bathes the grounds of the winery in a pleasant warmth. Selene and Ronan’s ceremony is held outside, and I almost manage to hold myself together. Fortunately, we took most of the pictures beforehand, so I’m not too worried about ruining my makeup. But as I watch Selene walk up the aisle, her hand resting lightly on my dad’s arm, I don’t even try to hold back the tears.
She’s positively stunning in a strapless ivory gown. It hugs her curves and flares slightly at the bottom, for an unbelievable silhouette. She’s always gorgeous, but today she looks radiant. Her dark hair is up, showing her slender neck and shoulders, and of course her boobs look fantastic. I helped her pick the dress—and I must say, I did an excellent job.
The ceremony is simple, and sweet. Their vows are beautiful, and bring a renewed set of tears streaming down my face. Braxton looks on from the other side, watching his sister with so much pride in his face. I think getting married before her was a little hard for him—at least, he knew it was hard for her, and he felt bad about that. Watching Selene marry Ronan feels like coming full circle, completing our family in a way that makes everything we’ve all been through the last couple of years worth it.
So worth it.
As Ronan kisses his wife for the first time, Braxton meets my eyes and gives me a wink. All I can do is smile through the tears.
Afterward, we make our way into the winery for the reception. The banquet hall is decorated beautifully with lots of twinkling lights and floral centerpieces on the tables. Soft music plays in the background, and Braxton and I walk around and chat with people for a while.
I get tired pretty quickly, but I float on the happiness for my best friend long enough to get through dinner. The food is delicious, and I go ahead and take a few sips of wine. I Googled it last night, so I know I can have a tiny bit and nothing bad will happen, and this way I won’t rouse suspicion. We are at a winery, after all.
Selene and Ronan aren’t really traditionalists, so they don’t do a lot of the customary wedding reception things. A few people do stand and offer toasts to the new couple, including Braxton (which makes me cry all over again). There’s cake, but they don’t pose for pictures and cut it. And after dessert, people have cocktails and mingle.
There’s an area sectioned off for dancing, and people meander over while a slow song is playing. I notice Ronan’s parents dancing together, as well as some of our friends.
Braxton takes my hand. “Dance with me?”
I smile and stand, but a wave of dizziness passes over me. I clutch at him to keep from losing my balance.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, although I hold his arms tight to keep from falling over. “Sorry, I just got a little dizzy for a second.”
He looks at me with his brow furrowed. Without saying anything else, he gently takes my elbow and leads me out into the lobby, where he stops and looks at me. “Kylie, what the fuck is going on?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Something is up with you,” he says.
“I’m fine.” I put a hand on his arm. “Really.”
“I know you went to the doctor,” he says. “What aren’t you telling me?”
My mouth hangs open for a moment. Shit. What do I say? Do I make something up? Why else would I have gone to the doctor? Do I tell him I wasn’t feeling well? That’s bullshit, and he’ll know it. I’ve been telling him I’m fine all week. Damn it, I thought I could hold out for one more night. I have the card I made for him in my bag. I was going to give it to him in the morning.
“Ky, seriously, you’re freaking me the fuck out,” he says. “Are you sick? Is something wrong?”
It hits me, as I look into his eyes, that he’s scared. He thinks something bad is happening—that something’s wrong with me. I don’t know how he found out about my appointment, but I bet that’s why he’s been asking me if I’m okay a million times a day. It’s been worrying him.
“Oh god, Brax, no,” I say. Screw the card. I didn’t mean to upset him. I take his hands, and suddenly I can’t stop smiling.
His brow is furrowed, his eyes intense, and I know he must think I’m crazy right now.
“Baby, I’m fine. I’m not sick at all.”
“Are you sure?” He puts one hand alongside my face, the other around my waist, drawing me closer. “Why did you need to see a doctor, then? And why didn’t you tell me?”
My whole body is pinging with adrenaline, every nerve sparking. This is it. This moment. This is going to change everything. “I’m pregnant.”
His hand on my waist tightens until he’s gripping the back of my dress in his fist, and he pulls me closer. His chest rises and falls quickly, and his eyes never leave mine.
“What did you say?” he whispers.
I’m not sure if I can say it out loud again. Swirls of excitement and fear pour through me, and I start to tremble in his arms.
My voice almost won’t work. “I’m pregnant. I went to the doctor to be sure.”
His arms rope around me and he pulls me close, burying his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He holds me tight, but there’s a gentleness to it. He’s so tender, like he’s already making room for this new thing in our lives. I cling to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and close my eyes. I suppose there are people walking by, but I don’t care about them. This is our moment.
He pulls away, just enough that he can look at me. “Did you just say you’re pregnant?”
I nod.
He swallows hard. “A baby?”
“Yes.”
His
lips brush against mine, almost a kiss, as he speaks. “Our baby.”
I smile and he takes my mouth in a deep kiss, his arms still pressing me against him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I say. “I made you a card, and I was going to give it to you tomorrow. I wanted to see my doctor to be sure, and then there was all the wedding stuff. I’m so sorry I made you worry.”
He leans his forehead down to mine. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re all right.” His pulls away a little and his brow furrows. “You are okay, aren’t you?”
I nod. “So far, so good. I’m so tired, though.”
He kisses my forehead, then my cheeks.
“You’re not freaked out?” I ask. “Or upset?”
“Why would I be either of those things?” he asks.
“Well, this is a surprise,” I say. “It’s not like we planned it.”
He kisses my forehead again. “It’s the best surprise I’ve ever had.”
We stand there for long moments, resting in each other’s arms. I’m filled with warmth. It radiates from my chest through my whole body.
He pulls away and wipes his thumb beneath my eyes.
“Happy tears,” I say.
He nods. “I know.”
He slides his hand down my neck, brushes between my breasts, and touches my belly. A wide smile crosses his face as he splays his hand, palm down, just below my belly button. “My sweet baby girl, having my baby.”
I giggle and bite my lip.
“I guess we should go back in,” he says.
“Yeah, we should.”
Braxton keeps his arm tight around me as we walk back into the reception. Some people are still at their tables, eating cake and drinking wine. Others are on the dance floor, swaying back and forth to a slow song.
Selene and Ronan are together, talking to a few people near the bar. Selene looks over as soon as we walk in. I see her eyes lock with her brother’s, and a huge grin spreads over Braxton’s face. She doesn’t even say anything to the people she’s talking to, just strides over to us, her hand covering her mouth.
Always Ever After Page 4
