Page 85 of Forking the Billionaire

“You just found out,” she said, scarily like the psychic she claimed to be. “But you’re afraid to talk about it, because that makes it real. So you figured you’d ignore me and maybe your wholesituationwould go away.”

I’d be offended if her accusation wasn’t one-hundred-percent on point.

“No,” I said, because I had to saysomething,though the lift in my voice made it sound more like a question than a statement.

Standing here now, I realized that when Sage had ambushed me in her fortune teller hut with a knowing look, I’d felt attacked. But when Jasper had flat out told me he’d walked into my private home and messed with my private pee stick, I’d felt relieved to have someone to share my secret with. Sage was supposed to be my friend. Jasper wasn’t. So why wasn’t I just fessing up now? It’s not like Sage wouldn’t be here to see my belly blow up like a balloon, or like I could lie about what was going on forever.It’s a burrito bellyonly worked for so long. And then, there would be a whole new person living with me. What did I plan to do then, hide the little pecan from the world forever?

The difference between Sage and Jasper was history. Jasper and I might not always have been friends, but our lives had been entwined since the beginning. It was like talking to a brother, almost, only nothing like talking to my actual brother, and also ew, because Jasper and I had done dirty filthy things to each other.

Thinking about those dirty things only made me want to do more of them. And that was not where my mind was supposed to be heading.

“Perhaps speaking in hypotheticals would feel safer,” Sage mused. “Like if a friend of mine was hypothetically pregnant, and only just found out, how do you think she might be holding up?”

“Okay,” I said, again sounding more like a question than a statement. But this did feel safer. It was a good way to ease into sharing my new reality with one of the friends who would be here to support me through it.

Jasper was going home. Gabe was going home. Sage would be here.

Sage folded her hands together on the bar. “The fact that my friend ran away from home, only to have the person she ran from show up at this critical time in her life, must be stressful for her.”

I got to work on a pitcher of Sage’s usual virgin margaritas. And while I didn’t have to look at her knowing eyes, it was easier to say, “Your friend didn’t run away from anyone.”

Even without looking, I knew Sage raised a brow.

“Your friend rantoadventure, to build something of her own,” I said, with a quick glance in her direction. Sure enough, she was doing the I-know-that’s-not-true brow raise.

“And away from the overbearing brother who makes her feel like she can’t have those things back home,” Sage said.

Had I run away? Not really, right? I mean…kind of, yes.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “And she found out literally days ago about this big life change that was happening to her. And she wasn’t ready to share that with anyone.”

Sage nodded in that knowingly Sage way. “If, hypothetically, all of this were true, I should hope my friend would know that there are people here to support her no matter what she decides to do.”

Of course she would support me. Of course I could talk to her. Sage knew everyone’s secrets and she didn’t go around spreading them…too much. Plus, this secret wasn’t going to stay secret forever, anyway.

I poured her a glass of her favorite drink, summoned a deep breath filled with bravery, and looked my friend in the eye. “I’m having the baby.”

She smiled and tapped her hand over mine. “I gathered that, honey.”

“How?”

“You’re cradling your flat little tummy right now.”

I looked down and dropped my hand, then looked back at Sage, ready to say something stupid and defensive that I hadn’t figured out yet.

She took a sip of her drink, smacked her lips and said, “I’d understand if you decide to go back to the states to be with the father, and be nearer to the grandmother who raised you, but if you don’t want?—”

That wasn’t what I wanted. I might not have everything figured out, but I knew that much.

“There’s no father,” I said. “None that matters anyway.”

She tipped her chin in acknowledgment. “I raised three boys by myself, and even through the toughest times, I don’t regret it for a second.”

I knew about her boys, but not that she’d raised them alone.

“It was just my dad for me,” I said. “My mom abandoned me and my brother for some new family. Then after Dad died, Oma was my guardian.”

My uncle helped out sometimes. Gabe helped more.

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