She looks down at my belly, smiling. “Everything is fine,” she says, not convincing me. “I still can’t believe you’ve got this.”
“Me either,” I admit as we enter the bar. It’s so lovely to see Jude with all my family together. It’s even lovelier to see Jude smiling, especially on a day I know he has always dreaded. Peace. It’s beautiful on him.
“Fucking hell,” Abbie breathes, coming to an abrupt halt.
“What?” I do not like the shock on her face. “Abbie?”
“That man,” she whispers.
I look to where she’s staring. “Casey?”
“Oh my God, he has a name.”
“That’s Jude’s brother.”
“What?” she blurts, just as Casey looks this way. His face falls. I’m so fucking confused.
“You know him?”
Abbie spins and leaves the Library Bar, and I hurry after her. Or wobble after her. “Abbie, what’s going on?”
She paces up and down, laughs out loud, then slaps a hand over her forehead. “That’s him,” she says. “The best fuck of my life.”
I gasp, my mouth falling open. “Casey?” I hiss. “The man from Paris?”
“Jude’s brother?” she says, high-pitched.
And then Casey appears, looking between us. “You know each other?” he asks, clearly as stunned as Abbie.
“Um, yeah,” I say, just as Jude finds us too, obviously wondering what the hell is going on. “This is Abbie.” I can’t believe this. “Abbie, this is Casey.” And now they know each other’s names.
“Fuck,” Jude breathes, his finger waving between them. “You two ... Abbie’s the girl ... Paris?”
Neither Casey nor Abbie confirms it—they just stare at each other as everyone else piles out of the Library Bar, joining the reunion in the lobby, everyone murmuring their concern. “Everything okay?” Mum asks.
Just as Hightower walks in. “Oh Jesus,” Abbie breathes.
“And this is Abbie’s boyfriend,” I declare on a sing of delight. It’s the nerves. Must be. Casey steps back. Abbie wilts.
“Welcome, everyone!” I look at Jude, like,What the hell do we do with this?
He shrugs, as lost as me.
And some pee trickles out. “Fuck, I’m peeing myself again.”
“Amelia!” Mum scorns me as I rootle through my bag and whip out my spare knickers.
But then a loud whoosh rings through the lobby, and I still, just as I feel a gush. Then hear a splash. “Oh,” I breathe, peeking down at the puddle I’m standing in.
“Yeah, I don’t think those knickers are gonna do the trick,” Rhys says, as Jude rushes over.
“And here we go,” he says, cool as can be.
“But we have another three weeks!”
“Something tells me we don’t, baby.” Scooping me up, he heads for the stairs.
“Rachel should be first!”