Chapter Twenty-Two
My cell phone woke me up later.
I had to scramble to get to it, so I didn’t pause to check the name on the caller ID. After answering, I held my breath, hoping it was JC. Or even Drew.
“Gwen!” It was Laynie. Her voice was entirely too chipper for—I glanced at the bedside clock—five thirty in the evening. Shit. I’d slept all day. Which was probably better than being awake and dealing with emotions. “I just heard the news. Why didn’t you call me?”
I rubbed at the sleep in my eyes. “Heard what, exactly?” So much had happened since I’d last seen her. I could think of a myriad of things she’d be referring to, and none of them were things I was really in the mood to talk about.
“About JC’s shooting. Is he okay? Norma said he’s going to be fine, but I have to hear it from you.”
Oh, that. “Yeah, he’s fine.” At least he had been when I’d last seen him. “The bullet went clean through. They’ve already discharged him from the hospital.” I stretched then pulled the blanket up to my chin, wondering if I could get away with going back to sleep.
“Thank God. I’m so relieved. You’re still coming over?”
I paused, trying to think of some excuse to get out of our date. The plan had been for me to spend the night before the wedding at her house so that I could get ready there while JC got dressed at the condo. My dress and accessories were already waiting in her guestroom closet. The whole not seeing the bride before the ceremony thing. It was pointless now, but I had to keep up the charade—for JC’s sake, even though my heart wasn’t in it.
I tossed the covers aside. “Yep. I’ll be on my way shortly.” Just as soon as I did something about my swollen eyes.
“Awesome. I expect to hear all the details. It will be like an old-fashioned girls’ sleepover. We’ll laugh and giggle and stay up all night. You’re getting married tomorrow!” Her enthusiasm was potent. How I wished I could share it with her.
For a full minute after I hung up with her, I let myself wonder how I’d feel if I was getting married tomorrow. Would I be excited? Nervous? Having second thoughts?
I would have been delirious with joy, that’s what I would have been.
My stomach churned, and I had to run to the bathroom, barely making it before I threw up. From what I’d read on the Internet in the last week, morning sickness in the second trimester wasn’t that common for women who hadn’t had it in the first. But it certainly seemed fitting to wake up puking today.
Maybe our baby was just in tune with the real situation of my pre-wedding day. “You and me, kid,” I said, rubbing my tightening belly. “It’s just you and me.”
***
Alayna and Hudson required a full rundown of the last few days. They’d known that Mennezzo had been released from jail but nothing about seeing my father or any of the events that followed.
I stuck to the details I could share, and while I’d thought I wouldn’t be able to talk about JC without getting upset, I found that relating the story was actually comforting. It was a distraction from my current pain, but I could still get emotional without drawing questions.
Or so I thought.
I’d just come out of the bathroom of the guest suite after having changed into my pajamas when I found Laynie waiting on the bed for me.
“Now that it’s just you and me, you can tell me.”
I fiddled with the bridal jewelry that I’d set out on the dresser. “Tell you what?”
“Why you’re so glum. You don’t seem like someone who’s getting married tomorrow. And don’t say that you’re just tired and worried about Mennezzo. I know there’s something else. So spill.” She was perceptive in most circumstances, but honestly, I’d been surprised no one had commented earlier. I’d been a walking zombie since I’d arrived at her house. Except for when I’d recalled the shooting and the story around it, I’d barely muttered a word that had more than one syllable.
I didn’t have the energy to even try to lie outright. So just like I had with Chandler, I gave her part of the truth. “There is something else.” I turned to face her. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” She blinked several times. “Wow. For real?”
“Yep. I took a test last week when you suggested it. I’m fourteen weeks along.” I forced a smile.
She jumped up from the bed. “Oh my God! You’re already second trimester!”
JC and I had decided not to announce the pregnancy until after the wedding. We wanted the focus on us. But Laynie was the one person I had wanted to tell more than anyone else, and I would have told her immediately if I hadn’t been worried about her reaction.
I bit my lip. “Are you horribly mad?”
“Mad? Why the hell would I be mad?”
“Because you’re trying so hard to get pregnant, and here, I didn’t even want a baby, and I’m having one.”
She took my hands in hers and squeezed. “Of course I’m wildly jealous, but mad? No way. I’m thrilled for you!” Dropping my hands, she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Though I am a little pissed you didn’t tell me sooner. Is it because you were afraid of what I’d say or because you aren’t happy about being pregnant?”
“The first. I didn’t want a baby, but now that I’m going to have one, I’m adjusting.” I put my hands behind me to lean on the dresser and thought about her question. Was I really not happy about having a baby?
Even with JC gone, the answer was no. I was happy. “It’s exciting, actually. Scary but exciting.” This time my smile was genuine.
Her face lit up entirely. “It’s so exciting! I’m…I’m overwhelmed!” She flitted around the room, energized by my news. “I can’t believe you thought I’d be mad. And I’m so happy for you! It will be my practice baby. I’ll steal it every chance I can. I hope you’re ready for me to practically live with you. Seriously, you don’t even need to hire a nanny. I’m here. Can I be Aunt Laynie even though we’re not related?”
I laughed. “You can be whoever you want. But you’re going to regret that offer because I’m going to take you up on it. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
“I won’t regret it. And you won’t need me. JC’s going to be doting all over you. You know that. He’s got to be over the moon.”
“Yeah. Over the moon.” That wasn’t a lie either—he’d been beyond thrilled. It hurt now to say it, though. So I redirected the conversation. “Anyway. It’s why I’m so tired. And emotional. And with Mennezzo out of jail, I’m more worried than ever.”
“Right. Of course. That makes sense.” She stood in front of me and ran her hands up and down my bare arms, trying to reassure me. “JC will make sure you’re safe. Hudson can help him ramp up the security if you’re not convinced that you have enough. And just think—tomorrow you’ll be married. After that, you’ll have your honeymoon. You can escape from all the pressure and relax for a bit. And then in twenty-six weeks, you’ll have a baby! What can be more wonderful than that?”
“Nothing,” I said, and even though she was wrong about most of it—I wouldn’t be married tomorrow, and I wouldn’t be going on my honeymoon—she was right about the baby. It hadn’t been planned or wanted, and it was going to be tough as shit without JC, but I’d get through it, especially with her support.
And, as hard as it was going to be, I was pretty sure it would also be wonderful.
***
The wedding was scheduled for six on Sunday evening. By one, the Pierce house was a bustle. Besides the hairdresser, nail professional and makeup artist, Mirabelle and Norma and Laynie were there, hovering over me, urging me to eat, fawning over every detail of my bridal preparations. It was ironic how much preparation and fuss was going into a non-wedding.
Of course, no one knew that’s what this was but me.
“French manicure for her hands,” Mira said, “the pale pink for her toes.”
“The bright pink will show up better,” Laynie argued.
Mira scoffed. “She’s not getting any pictures of her feet.”
“She might on her honeymoon. The pale pink is going to look washed out.” Laynie turned to me, both bottles in her hand. “The bright pink is a much better choice, Gwen. Don’t you agree?”
“Mmhmm.”
“See!” Laynie was so triumphant in her win that she didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm.
So it went with the entire afternoon. No one commented on my mood. No one asked what my problem was. They just cooed and buzzed, excited enough about my event to make up for my apathy.
For the most part, I was able to keep my emotions at bay by focusing on the pampering. I told myself we were playing dress-up. It wasn’t every day that I got dolled up, and it did feel good to have my hands massaged and my hair washed by someone else.
When it was time to go, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, dressed in a simple lace and tulle A-line gown, my hair in soft curls around my face, my makeup light and perfect.
“You’re exquisite!” Mira exclaimed at my side.
“Simply gorgeous,” said Laynie.
“You glow,” Norma added, reminding me of when JC had said the same words to me. Grief bubbled up inside of me, and all I could do was nod and bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying.
Go numb, I begged myself. Numb, numb, numb.
All during the limo ride to the Brooklyn Bridge Park, I tried to reclaim the stoic mask I’d maintained all afternoon, but every minute we got closer, my heart broke a little more. We’d chosen to make our vows at Jane’s Carousel, the place we’d had our first reunion kiss on the Fourth of July. It had felt like a romantic and whimsical location. Now it just felt sad.
By the time we pulled up to the park, anxiety began to surge as strongly as grief. At what point would this all be called off? How long did I let this go on? Mira jumped out of the car first, telling us she’d call us as soon as the event coordinator told us it was time to line up. Would we sit there indefinitely, waiting for a groom who would never appear?
Laynie’s phone rang shortly after Mira’s disappearance, and I held my breath, prepared for her to announce that JC hadn’t yet arrived.
Instead, when she hung up, she said, “They’re ready for us to line up! Gah! This is so exciting!” She tugged me out of the car and started to pull me with her toward the crowd standing in front of the carousel.
“You’re in the front,” I said. “You should go first.”
“Good thinking.” She let go of my hand. “We don’t want him to see you yet.” She ran on ahead, leaving me behind with Norma, who was slated to process in just before me.
When we were about twenty feet away from the spot where we were supposed to line up, I stopped walking. “I can’t do this.”
Norma, realizing I had halted, turned back to me. “Can’t do what? Are you having cold feet?”
“Not exactly.” Fuck, I knew this was going to be embarrassing. Now that we were here, I realized how embarrassing. I didn’t like it. I wanted it over with.
Cursing him again under my breath, I said, “It’s JC. I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me what? You’re scaring me. Did you two have a fight? Is that why you’ve been so sullen today?”
Huh. Maybe my mask hadn’t been quite as effective as I’d thought. Norma always could read me like a book, though. “We didn’t fight.” Well, we’d argued. “He’s decided to take the offer for protection.”
Her shoulders sagged. “The shooting was related to the trial then? I wondered as much. You’re probably not supposed to tell me anything, are you?”
“No, I’m not. But you already knew part of it.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s not a surprise. Honestly, I was half-expecting you to already have taken off. Will you disappear right after the wedding? Leave for your honeymoon and not come back?” Her voice was even, but I knew her well enough to detect the sadness in her tone.
And why shouldn’t she be sad? She thought her sister was about to disappear from her life.
At least my bad news meant that I wouldn’t have to leave her. “No. There isn’t going to be a wedding. He’s already gone.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“He’s not going to show.” A tear slid down my cheek. “He left without me, Norma. I’m supposed to pretend to be surprised when he doesn’t show up today, and I…I just can’t. I can’t do this.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course he showed.” She pulled a hankie from her bra—only Norma—and dabbed at my face.
“No. He’s gone.”
She tucked the linen back in its hiding spot. “You’re delirious, Gwen. He’s already here. He’s waiting for you at the other end of the aisle.”
“Stop saying that.” I was frustrated now. “I’m telling you—”
She cut me off, pointing toward the carousel. “Would you just look?”
My heart began to pound, and a bubble of hope formed in my chest. Since we’d planned a short ceremony, we’d elected not to provide chairs, so I had to step out of line to peer around the audience.
But as soon as I did, I saw him. He was standing in front of the carousel, my brother at his side, looking sexy as hell in his tux as he waited for his bride to join him. God, he was such an asshole. Such a wonderful, amazing asshole.
And, oh, how I loved him. That fucker.
“Well, then,” I said, stepping into my place at the back of the line. “Guess I’m getting married.”
I blinked the tears out of my eyes and smiled for the first time all day.