Page 46 of Charming Crosschecks

He meant it when he told her they would decide on Calgary together. It wasn’t a negotiation; it was a promise. He wasn’t willing to make that decision without her by his side. If she wasn’t interested in that life, if she wasn’t ready to make that leap, then he wouldn’t go either. He would turn down every opportunity, every temptation, because no amount of money, no career advancement, nothing in the world would pull him away from the woman he loved. Not if it meant losing her. He would follow her wherever she wanted to go because his heart belonged to her – andnothing, not even the brightest future, would ever change that.

Dinner was a thing of beauty, a lavish spread that looked like it belonged on the cover of one of those high-end lifestyle magazines. His mother, ever the perfectionist, spared no expense in creating a meal that could only be described as decadent. The table was set with immaculate precision: delicate china gleamed under the soft glow of the crystal chandelier, and a centerpiece of fresh flowers emerged from a bed of rich greenery, their petals bursting in vibrant colors that seemed to defy the quiet elegance of the room.

Aldonard sat beside Molly, who, despite the opulence surrounding them, seemed almost... fragile. There was tension in her posture, her shoulders were stiff, her movements too deliberate. She looked beautiful, of course, but there was something about her that felt distant, like a part of her was holding herself back from the moment. And it broke his heart just a little. He could see she was trying. She really was. But the nerves still had a firm grip on her.

When he’d packed for their weekend getaway, he’d chosen each item of clothing with care. He’d picked a gown for her—one that would make her feel elegant and cherished—and a pair of comfy sweats in case the temperature dipped. He also tucked a cozy sweater into the bag, along with a pair of jeans, knowing how much she liked to feel at ease. The intent behind each piece was to make her feel special, to show her that he thought of her. He’d even asked his mother to make sure the bathroom was stocked with all the little luxuries Molly loved, anticipating a weekend of relaxation and connection. But none of that seemed to have worked. She looked anything but at ease. She looked stressed.

And her stress?

It was contagious.

Molly’s tension was like an invisible thread that tethered itself to him, pulling him into the same nervous energy. He tried his best to keep the mood light, to keep her engaged, asking her questions, teasing her, hoping to make her laugh. But nothing seemed to break through. Each attempt felt more futile than the last, and it gnawed at him. He could see how hard she was trying to hold it together, but the cracks were showing, and it made him feel powerless.

“Molly,” Gerry said softly, his smile warm yet tinged with effort, hoping to lift the invisible weight pressing down on the table. “Why don’t you tell Mom about the day you surprised me with the ‘Frownies’?” He chuckled, the sound was genuine but a touch nervous as if laughter could dissolve the tension thickening the air. His gaze flickered between Sandy and his mother, searching their faces for any hint of ease before landing on Molly.

Her expression, however, was like a storm cloud waiting to break—pinched, distant, and unreadable.

“You hated those,” Molly muttered, her voice a fragile thread barely audible over the clink of silverware. Her fingers curled into her lap, twisting the hem of her sweater as if trying to anchor herself. “Are you trying to make me look bad?”

The room seemed to hold its breath.

Gerry’s chuckle faltered, his smile slipping into something strained, almost apologetic. “Oh…” The single syllable carried the weight of his regret. His heart sank like a stone in water, heavy with the realization that he’d misstepped.

Molly shifted in her chair, her shoulders curling inward as though bracing against unseen scrutiny. The discomfort she radiated was palpable, seeping into every corner of the room. Gerry felt helpless, desperate to mend the moment, to erase the awkwardness that now loomed between them like a wall.

“Molly,” he tried again, his voice gentler now, almost pleading. He reached across the table, his hand brushing hers in a small, reassuring gesture. Her fingers were cold to the touch, stiff with tension. “It’s okay,” he murmured, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

But before she could respond, Aldonard, ever the inquisitive mother, leaned forward, her smile too tight to feel comforting. “Do you have any brothers or sisters? What are your goals in life? Do you see yourself getting married someday? Having kids? Where do you see yourself in five years?” The questions tumbled out in rapid succession, her gaze sharp and expectant.

Molly froze. Her wide eyes darted from Aldonard to Sandy and back to Gerry, her vulnerability laid bare in the flickering uncertainty on her face. It was as if she’d been thrust under a spotlight, every insecurity she carried now on glaring display.

Sandy, sensing the growing unease, softened her tone. “Molly?” she coaxed gently. “Honey, it’s just conversation.”

But Molly’s gaze locked onto Gerry’s, her eyes pleading silently for him to intervene. He could see the hesitation in her trembling lips, the struggle in her furrowed brow. She looked lost—adrift in a sea of expectations she hadn’t anticipated and wasn’t prepared to navigate.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered, leaning toward her, his voice low and urgent. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

For a brief moment, she clung to his reassurance, her fingers tightening around his like a lifeline. Then, with a shaky breath, she spoke, her words trembling yet determined. “I thought we’d talk first about Calgary,” she said, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

The table fell into stunned silence.

“Calgary?” Aldonard’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade, her sharp gaze snapping to Gerry. “Marriage? Children? What is going on?”

Sandy looked equally alarmed, her brows shooting upward. “Molly, what’s in Calgary?”

Gerry’s stomach twisted painfully. He hadn’t wanted to go here—not now, not like this. His hands tightened into fists under the table as he forced himself to stay calm. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice a careful thread of control. “We are going to talk about Calgary. I promise. But this is just small talk, okay? It’s my mother trying to get to know you. It’s not serious. Just... small talk.” He met her eyes, silently willing her to trust him. “Okay?”

But the silence at the table wasn’t just heavy; it was suffocating. He could feel the judgment hanging in the air, the unspoken questions and conclusions brewing behind their eyes.

“Molly, what’s in Calgary?” Sandy echoed, her confusion laced with a rising edge of alarm.

Gerry hesitated, his pulse roaring in his ears. His throat felt dry as he searched for the right words, knowing he was on the precipice of an unraveling he couldn’t control. “Yes,” he finally said, his voice strained, “but I suppose we can share that secret with everyone else since it’s out in the open.”

The clatter of Aldonard’s fork against her plate was deafening. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared between them. “Oh my gosh…” she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. “Isthatwhy you came?”

Sandy’s voice rose, a mixture of shock and incredulity. “You’re…with child?”The words hung in the air, their weight pressing down on all of them as the room seemed to tilt on its axis.

Gerry’s gaze shot to Molly, her cheeks flushing crimson as she stared at the table, her lips trembling with words she couldn’t bring herself to say.

---