Always Ever After (Always 2.50) - Page 17

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 and 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.