Page 11 of Pregnant in Plaid
"That's the one."
"And you and Trace stayed out dancing?"
Oh God. Here we go. "Yeah. About that."
Her expression shifts from confused to suspicious to shocked in about two seconds flat. "Wait. Are you telling me?—"
"We slept together," I blurt out. "Just once. That night. And then I left the next morning without gettinghis number because I'm an idiot and a coward and apparently allergic to healthy communication."
"You slept with Trace," Tessa says, each word careful and measured like she's defusing a bomb. "My fiancé's best friend. The best man at my wedding."
"Yes."
"And you're pregnant with his baby."
"Yes."
"And he doesn't know."
"CORRECT."
"PATRICE!"
"I KNOW!"
"How does he not KNOW?!"
"Because I didn't tell him!" I cover my face with my hands. "I panicked, okay? I found out I was pregnant two months after that night, and I just... I couldn't. I didn't know how to contact him, and even if I did, what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, remember that one-night stand? Congratulations, you're going to be a father?'"
"YES!" Tessa shouts. "EXACTLY THAT! That's exactly what you say!"
"Well, I didn't!"
"Clearly!"
We sit in furious silence for approximately ten seconds before Tessa's expression shifts from angry to something that looks suspiciously like scheming.
"Oh my God," she says slowly. "He's going to see you at the wedding."
"I'm aware."
"He's going to see you VERY pregnant at the wedding."
"Also aware."
"And he's going to do the math."
"YEP." I slump back in the seat, which is less dramatic when you're seven months pregnant and the seatbelt is cutting into your ribs. "Which is why I was hoping to maybe... I don't know... hide? For the next seventy-two hours?"
"Hide?" Tessa's voice reaches a pitch previously only achieved by opera singers and dog whistles. "You want to HIDE at my WEDDING while seven months pregnant with the best man's baby?"
"When you say it like that, it sounds bad."
"Because it IS bad!"
"I have a plan!" I insist, even though I absolutely do not have a plan. "I'll just... wear something flowy. And stand behind things. Large things. Like tables. Or ice sculptures. Do you have ice sculptures?"
"We're getting married in Alaska. Everything is basically an ice sculpture." Tessa pinches the bridge of her nose like she's fighting off a migraine. "Okay. Okay. Let me think."
