At No Time || Bruno Mars

64

Peter thought about it for a moment, watching the bits of tea leaf remnants in his cup slowly drown to the bottom.

"What did you say to Angelique that made her so mad at you?"

"Wait, wait, wait . . . you're what? Tree! What the hell? I'm flying out right now."

Trystan had not the energy to tell Angelique that no, she would rather not have company, before hanging up and lying back down onto her bed, staring at the ceiling with a palm resting against her stomach.

It had been hard enough revealing to her mother about her pregnancy, so she knew her friend, ever so vivacious, would have a cow at seeing her physically and realizing that what Trystan had barely whispered to her over the phone was very real.

She lied there the entire seven hours it took for Angelique to get to her New York home, going in and out of sleep, and when she was awake, thinking of all that had gone wrong and what could possibly go wrong. She did not realize how tired being pregnant could make a person; she could hardly move to get her journal to scribble out her thoughts, let alone get up to answer her front door when Angelique finally arrived.

"Shit, Tree," was her greeting when she saw Trystan and her swollen belly. She groaned and shrugged passed her, two large paper bags in hand, and went off on a tangent once in the privacy of her home.

"How far along are you? Four months? Six? Hell, are you one of those mothers who don't get big until the eighth month? Shit, am I gonna be an aunt next week?!" Angelique rattled off questions as her boots clacked against the floor and she went into the living room to set the bags onto the coffee table.

Trystan sighed and slowly approached her friend. "No, you're not. I'm only five months along. And, Lique! I'm pregnant; you know I can't drink." Her eyes widened when her comrade pulled a bottle of raspberry Bacardi out of one of the paper bags.

"Girl, this isn't for you, it's for me," Angelique clarified before dumping the contents of the other bag onto the table top. "This is for you." She gestured toward a bag of chips, pint of chocolate chunk ice cream, and cookies. "I don't know about all your cravings and shit but these are my favorite treats because you know how I stress-eat, so sorry in advance if I end up eating most of it–,"

"Lique, please calm down. You're wearing me out a little." Trystan's brow furrowed as she easily set herself down onto the couch.

Angelique shrugged her coat off and replied, "Well, you're just gonna have to deal with it for a couple of hours, because you haven't told me anything about this. I know you weren't talking to Bruno, but shit, Tree! This?! Does he know?"

Trystan shook her head slowly, and Angelique groaned again, "Oh, God," as she popped the top off the bottle of vodka. "I'm gonna need a lot of this then." She took a shot to the head before pressuring, "Tree, you need to tell me everything. How can you keep all this shit from your best friend?"

"It's not like this is easy just to tell people, Lique."

"Well, I'm not leaving until you tell me everything that's happened." She took another swig and then brushed her hand along the air. "Go on, say it."

Over the better part of three hours, Trystan revealed to Angelique what had gone on between she in Peter, from the beginning to the present moment. The bag of chips was half-eaten and the pint of ice cream was empty, most of the consumption Angelique's doing as she listened to Trystan as if watching an enthralling movie. "Damn, I knew there was something going on between you guys, but this?"