Page 77 of Pregnant in Plaid
"It's your wedding day. Can we not?—"
"That's a no." He sighs. "Trace. What are you waiting for, man?"
"The right moment."
"There's no such thing as the right moment. There's just moments. And you're wasting them."
"I know. I just—" I run a hand through my hair. "What if she says no? What if I tell her and she runs?"
"Then at least you'll know. But I don't think she will." He claps me on the shoulder. "Stop being scared. Take the leap. Ask her to stay."
He heads back to Tessa, leaving me standing there with my thoughts and my fears and the certainty that he's right.
I make my way back to Patrice. She's talking to a woman I think from her old job in Florida—professional-looking, probably mid-thirties, gesturing animatedlywhile Patrice laughs. When she sees me, her whole face lights up.
That's when I know.
I'm going to tell her. Tonight. After the wedding, when we're back at the cabin and it's just us.
I'm going to tell her I love her, that I want her to stay, that I want to build a life together.
And I'm going to hope like hell she says yes.
"Hey," I say, sliding into the chair next to her. "Having fun?"
"The best time." She smiles. "This wedding is perfect. Small, intimate, just people who matter. If I ever—" She stops, cheeks flushing slightly.
"If you ever what?"
"Nothing. Just thinking out loud."
But the implication hangs there, warm and hopeful.
If I ever get married.
The reception winds down as the evening fades into night. Gage and Tessa leave in a shower of birdseed—Tessa insisted, something about being better for the birds than rice—and the crowd slowly disperses.
I find Patrice by the door, wrapped in her shawl, looking tired but happy.
"Ready to go?" I ask.
"Yeah. My feet are staging a revolt, and the baby has decided my ribs are a punching bag."
I help her to the truck and drive us back to the cabin. She's quiet, staring out the window at the dark landscape rolling by.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
She's quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, "About what it would be like. To have what they have."
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. "And?"
"And I think—" She pauses. "I think I'm scared."
We pull up to the cabin, and I turn off the engine. In the sudden silence, I can hear both of our breathing.
