“I’m just pregnant and emotional.”
“Oh, honey. That might work on anyone else, but you don’t need to lie to me to keep up appearances. I’m not everybody else.” She opens her mouth and then closes it, as if she thought better of saying whatever’s on her mind, but this is Clem, so she says it anyway. “Do you regret saying yes to Gabe?”
“No. Gabe is all I’ve ever wanted.”
“It’s okay if that changes.”
“Is it? I mean, I’ve loved him since I first laid eyes on him. I’m having a kid with him.” I glance down where I’m wringing my hands and hold up my left. “I have a fucking wedding ring on my finger, so yeah. I don’t think it’s okay to go running off after my boss. I don’t even know if that was what I heard him say.”
“You don’t have to be fluent in Spanish to know Arturo’s in love with you.”
“I’m married,” I whisper, more to myself than to Clem, as I stand with my hands on my hips and study my wedding gown in the mirror. “I’m fucking married, Clem.”
I meant it with all of my heart when I said yes to Gabe, and again when I said, “I do”. So why the hell am I stressing over what Arturo said?
“Right. Then why are you in here with me crying your eyes out? Unless ... maybe you love him too?”
I shake my head emphatically. “No. Definitely not. I’m not—”
“Taking this news as if you’re in love with him and you married the wrong man?”
Why would she say that? “Wait, you think Gabe is the wrong man?”
I open my mouth to ask her to elaborate when a meaty fist bangs on the door and Gabe shouts, “Clem, quit holding my wifey hostage in the bathroom. She’s never gonna give it up to you ... ’cause I put a damn ring on it.”
The lock on this door doesn’t work anyway.Which Gabe might remember if he were sober.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I say, my voice warbling. I sniff and run my fingertips under my eyes to smooth away the raccoon smudges.
“Lo?” Gabe asks through the door. “What’s wrong?”
Shit. That’s what I get for marrying my best friend. He knows me too well.
“Er ... nothing.”
Clem throws herself up against the door as Gabe tries to open it.
“Babe, open the door.”
“I just ... I need just a minute, Gabe.”
“Lo?”
He shoves his weight against the wood and Clem pitches forward. “Hey!”
The door slams back on its hinges and he enters the tiny bathroom. His eyes meet mine and he takes in my blotchy, tear-streaked face, complete with mascara smudges. “Freckles, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I glance nervously between him and Clem, but she only gives me a half smile and slips from the room without a word. “I’m just ... hormonal, and exhausted.”
His brow furrows like he doesn’t quite believe that, but he pulls me into his embrace and kisses the top of my head. “It’s been one hell of a day. You want me to kick everyone out, wifey?”
I laugh. “No. But if I fall asleep at the table, don’t wake me and maybe they’ll all get the message.”
“Done. Now come on, I want to dance with my bride.”
“My feet are killing me.”
“Then you can dance on mine.”