Page 78 of One-Star Romance

“Sister-friend?” Gabby asked, amusement creeping into her voice. “Does that have anything to do with sister-wives?”

“Yes, surprise, I’m also marrying Angus.”

“After everything, I cannot imagine a universe in which that would happen.”

“What I mean is that you and I, we’re more than friends. So what if we go a long time without talking, or if sometimes we hate each other? I’ll be here for you when it counts, just like I know you would be for me.”

Gabby was silent for a moment before she said quietly, “Even when I thought I was pregnant, I wasn’t one hundred percent happy because I couldn’t tell you. I think that’s why I didn’t take a test right away. Because the last time I took a test, we were together, and…well, you know.”

“I do.”

“I love you, Natalie.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon.”

Now Natalie could hear someone moving around in the room next to hers. Rob, staying on the other side of a thin wall.

As soon as she’d seen his face again, framed in the doorway, a host of complicated feelings had risen up in her. Anger at him, still, for making the mistake that had denied her Gabby all these months. But anger at herself as well for reacting the way she had, plus an inconvenient lingering desire to push herself up against his chest. It all made for an incredibly awkward soup of emotions. The best course of action was not to look too hard at him, not to stand too close. Because the last thing Gabby needed right now was a bunch of extra stress and angst flying around her house. And Natalie couldn’t exactly handle extra angst either. Already, her feelings threatened to spill over and drown her each time Gabby’s prognosis entered her mind.

Three days from now, her best friend would be on the operating table. Whenever Natalie thought about that, the ground grew slippery beneath her feet, the world playing by all sorts of new rules that didn’t make sense.

“Knock knock,” Angus said, poking his head through the crack in the door. “Is now a good time for me to help you set up the futon?”

“Oh.” Natalie jumped to her feet. “Sure, thank you.”

He came into the room, smiling awkwardly. Her betrayal of him sat between them. “Hey, I’ve been thinking, and in case I haven’t said this enough, I’m sorry again,” she began, her voice faint. “About Dennis.”

“I did finally read the book. It was, uh, pretty brutal.”

“I know. It was more about me dealing with my own fear and resentment at the time than anything about you.”

“But you weren’t wrong about me entirely.” Angus shrugged. “I’ve always worried, a little bit, that I wasn’t good enough for Gabby.”

Natalie searched for any sense of vindication but couldn’t find it. Instead, her heart cracked. “Please, don’t say that.”

“I know it’s silly. But if I’m just a guy who fails upward, who gets things handed to him, when she’s so amazing and works so hard—”

“Stop that. Look at this life you’ve built together. Look at the child you made. Gabby loves you so much. And if you don’t believe me, ask Rob! You should know that he was such a fierce defender of you. He hated me for what I wrote.”

“He’s a good person to have in your life,” Angus said, and for a moment, he seemed like he was going to say more. But then his phone dinged in his pocket. He took it out, eyeing it with a furrowed expression, then quickly typed out a text back and put the phone down on a shelf by the door. “Sorry, work stuff. Let’s get you settled.”

Letting out a grunt, he sank to his knees and crawled beneath the futon. By the sound of it, he was unhooking and unsnapping various straps. “Wow,” Nat said. “This is some advanced futon technology.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Angus said. He paused for a moment, another strap pinging, then went on in a rush, “My father’s number two ordered a bunch of these for the store because they were the latest model and, well, they are just the biggest pain in the butt to set up.”

“Yikes.”

“Don’t worry, it’s very comfortable for sleeping, I give you my word on that. But you’ve got to think about the big picture when you’re deciding what to sell, you know? What good is a comfy futon if the average furniture owner can’t get it open? Anyways, I decided to take one off their hands since I don’t mind doing this stuff personally, but—”

Over on the shelf, his phone began to ring. Angus’s feet, sticking out from the edge of the futon, wriggled. “Mind checking that to make sure it’s not the doctor?”

Natalie looked at the screen. “It just says, ‘Lord of Darkness.’ ”

“My boss. You can ignore.”

“Okay,” Nat said. “Can I help with this? I’m supposed to create less work for you, not more.”

“No, no, I enjoy it. It’s like meditation.”

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