Page 80 of Big Daddy

The restaurant is dark, despite it being lunch time, and when he saunters in through the double doors wearing his pressed gray suit and his silk black tie, I stare daggers into the side of Brielle’s head, I swear.

Lance rests his hand on my forearm. “You okay?”

I glance over at him. “Fine. Just… ready to get lunch going.”

He looks me up and down. “Are you…?” He trails off before shaking his head and I don’t ask him what he was going to say because my focus is on the calm way Big Daddy is talking to Augustus across the small lobby from us. Brielle nods along with whatever they’re saying, and thank God, our table is called.

Big Daddy pulls my chair out, and rests his hand on my inner thigh beneath the cover of the table as soon as we sit. Familiarity and warmth surge through my legs, and goosebumps break out along my back and neck. My chest tightens and my eyes grow fuzzy.

Had I not made a stupid promise to keep an incredible secret, this moment would be one for the books. My best friend, her partners and her father and, coincidentally, the love of my life, too. All of us sharing a meal amicably (thanks, Dr. Wilder) with good news and happiness on the horizon for all.

Soon. As soon as Brielle spills the fucking beans, I can breathe and explain everything.

“How are things going? What are you guys currently working on?” Big Daddy asks Brielle, Lance and Augustus as the waiter comes over to fill our glasses with water.

Brielle sighs and smiles. “I can’t believe we’re at a place where you’re asking that,” she admits, her cheeks flushing. Big Daddy clears his throat, uncomfortable with his progress being pointed out, I’m sure. “But we’re working on a mini-series right now.” She turns, the delicate chignon at the base of her neck shiny beneath the intimate glow of the table. Lance and Aug give her a nod and she beams back at us. “It’s my first full solo production.”

Big Daddy shakes his head. “That’s wonderful. I’m proud of you.”

“Oh Brielle,” I squeal, “that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” My heart cheers for the way Quincey tells his daughter that he’s proud.

She splits a loving glance between us, and I know she isn’t used to me being with her dad yet and the look is more about her career but still, it fills me with a hit of warm and fuzzy that I need.

“That’s part of my good news,” she says, smiling, her eyes veering off to her guys. Augustus clears his throat while Lance adjusts his cloth napkin resting on his stack of plates.

“What else?” Big Daddy asks, his fingers slowly sweeping along my inner thigh, my core incinerating with each stroke.

Bless her, she doesn’t fuck around with preamble, but I choke on my water when she blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”

I stare at Big Daddy, but he doesn’t look away from his daughter, and my heart swells at his wet eyes. “You’re going to be a mother?” he asks.

Brielle nods, her eyes growing fuzzy, too. Her gaze slides to me, and a large smile sweeps her lips. “Thank you so much for keeping my secret, Win.”

Big Daddy’s eyes snap to mine, pinched, every line etching anger into his expression. “You knew?” He faces Brielle again. “You asked her to keep a secret from me?”

Suddenly, faces fall and silence consumes the table.

Brielle opens her mouth but struggles to speak, looking between me and her father. After a minute, I look up at him, too.

“She’s my best friend and I was just trying to show her that I still think of her that way, you know, because it’s huge news. And I wanted to tell you myself,” Brielle says, her eyes wide and unblinking as she waits for him to respond.

He places his napkin on the stacked plates in front of him, and when he takes his hand off my thigh, my stomach tightens anxiously.

I hadn’t considered Big Daddy’s reaction. No, that’s not true. I had. But not really because simply assuming he’d be happy then forgive a week of silence? The irony is that I was the one telling him what relationships require and yet here I am, the cause of all of this.

“You shouldn’t have put her in that position. And you shouldn’t have done it,” he says, his focus sliding from Brielle to me.

“That's why I was quiet all week. I was terrified of slipping up and I didn’t want to disappoint Brielle, and I wanted to show you that things were okay with me and her, that all of us would be okay.” I wring my hands nervously beneath the table, blinking up at his stoic face.

“You give me this whole valiant speech about Corinne, and how important openness and honesty is.” He twists to face Brielle, and his frustration morphs into sadness and hurt, and I think this is officially now the worst I’ve ever felt. “Were youtesting her? Why? Was that necessary? You and I,” he says, motioning that perfectly strong hand between them, the cuff of his dress shirt pulling back enough to expose the gold watch on his wrist. “We have been making so much progress but this, this is a regression.”

A tear rolls down Brielle’s cheek as she looks between us, regret lining her eyes in heavy, dark crescents. “It—I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, I asked her to keep the secret and I guess, I don’t know,” she says, sifting her hand over her neat hair the same way her father fishes his hand over his when he’s contemplative or frustrated. “I guess I just wanted a sliver of the old us. And… I don’t know, holding a secret felt special. Something between the two of us, like old times.” She swipes a hand over her cheek, ignoring the tears as if they aren’t falling faster now. Brielle hiccups. “I didn’t even think of the two of you, and how it would hurt you guys.” She faces me now, blue eyes red rimmed and wide. “I’m so sorry. I swear this wasn’t some passive aggressive revenge or anything like that. It was just, I was excited, and I wanted you to know, to feel like old times, but… I also had this vision of the guys and I telling Dad all together and...” she shrugs, her breath lifting a strand of blonde hair from her face. “I fucked up. This is my fault. And I’m sorry.”

My eyes veer from my best friend to my lover. His remarkably strong profile, complete with his tight set jaw and perfectly combed hair, sends a shock to my core. He’s so handsome. And loving. And he’s an asshole still, sure, but he’s my asshole. My guard dog. My king.

He looks at me, and his eyes haven’t changed. They’re still brimming with sadness. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have—” I let the sentence hang, because I don’t know what else can be said. “I shouldn’t have,” I say again, deciding to leave it there. Because I shouldn’t have allowed Brielle to come between us. I shouldn’t have agreed to a secret. We both fucked up, but it’son me now. “I just… I wanted so badly to feel like I didn’t ruin things with Brielle. And… she was so excited, I just wanted to be in that space with her, you know?” I twist a curl around my finger nervously, but his eyes stay tamped on mine. He loves my curls. The fact that he doesn’t even glance at them now has my stomach in knots. Turbulent, large, twisted, disastrous knots.

“I heard you when you said we share things. We share emotions, thoughts, secrets, feelings. I hadn’t shared those with anyone in years. I got used to keeping them bottled up. It was even a challenge for me to unlearn those behaviors, Winnie, but I did. I did it for us. Because I’m serious about us.” He licks his lips and my lower half quivers painfully. I wish I had a huge clock I could rewind. I don’t want to have hurt him this way. “But you held a secret from me, and instead of telling me any inkling of what was going on in your brain, you shut me out. You shut me out even after I repeatedly asked to be let in.” He smooths a hand over his face, his jaw clamping shut as he drops his eyes to the floor for the world’s longest moment. “The car will take you back to the house tonight,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. “I’ll drive your car back. Later.”

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