Back to Me (Book Three ✓)

twenty-four

EMMA

"Okay, G, sorry about that. It was Beau," I mutter, rejoining my friend on the couch. My carefully crafted Bachelorette party itinerary lays discarded on the coffee table, having captivated Gemma's attention for almost a full five minutes.

"You're talking to him a lot these days," Gemma raises her brows at me, popping a chocolate covered strawberry in her mouth.

Involuntarily, I stuff my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie, just loose enough to hide the little baby bump I've got now. Grabbing a strawberry, I push it between my lips to give myself some time.

Mmm chocolate.

I'm going to tell her, I have to. I can't avoid alcohol her entire bachelorette party without an explanation. But confessing to Gemma is more intimidating than to Nadine. She's so much more... abrupt.

"Are you back together or something?" Gemma crosses her short legs on the couch, leaning forward with more interest than she showed my agenda for the evening. "I'm not judging."

Scrunching my nose, I give the same answer that I always have in the past, the irony not lost on me. "It's complicated."

Gemma rolls her eyes to the ceiling, nudging me in the ribs. I stiffen just as she laughs, "Isn't it always, with you two?"

"Maybe," I let out a deep sigh, meeting my best friends intent gaze. "But this time's different."

Gemma gives me a look that says "I've heard that before" and it does nothing to help my confusion on the situation. Still, there's no denying the frantic way my heart beat spending the night beside him in bed or how my cheeks flush every time he calls. Rubbing slow circles on my belly through my hoodie, I let out another exhale.

Definitely no denying that, either.

I never thought I'd be the one going to Gemma with an unplanned pregnancy. I've always been so in control, had a plan...

"Earth to Emmie!" Gemma chuckles, standing with the empty plate and returning to the kitchen to grab more strawberries. "What's so different this time, girl?"

"Well," I take a deep breath, finding it easier, even if more cowardly, to force the words out when she isn't right in front of me. "I'm pregnant."

I close my eyes tightly as I hear the plate Gemma was holding crash to the floor. The thin ceramic shatters loudly and Gemma, in bare feet, flies around the corner, somehow not stepping on any shards.

"You're what?"

"I didn't want to tell you and take away from your big day-" I rush to explain.

"You're pregnant?" Gemma repeats, wide eyes impossibly wider. I nod cautiously and she throws herself onto the sofa beside me, little hands in a death grip on my arm. "You didn't tell me!" She shakes my limb with all her might.

Groaning, I begin to apologize but she cuts me off, words rushing out as everything begins to make sense.

"That's why you've been so off lately, like at the fitting." Her mouth pops open, "Oh my God, the fitting! Your dress. Oh, Emma - don't worry, we'll figure something out and you'll look gorgeous - it doesn't have to be lace, I swear."