I leave him to it while I get ready. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so nervous for a lunch in my life.
My parents exchange a look that conveys an entire conversation I’m not privy to. Getting everything off my chest feels good, but I can tell they feel blindsided.
“A baby?” My mom says, her voice quivering ever so slightly. “And you never told me?”
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me. I struggle to get enough air into my lungs and it’s only when Fisher gently places his hand on my knees that I feel like I can breathe.
“It’s not like I was never going to tell you,” I whisper. The pain in my heart is just as awful today as it was those years ago. “But the baby was gone before I could and after…” I shake away the memories. “After felt pointless.”
“Oh, honey.” My mom’s face falls and she practically dives forward to hug me. “I’m so sorry.”
It feels better than I imagined it could to have this off my chest. I’ve kept these secrets for way too long.
I squeeze my mom tight, needing that hug way more than I thought I did.
Beneath the table Fisher still hasn’t removed his hand and gives my knee a gentle squeeze.
“Does your brother know?” My dad asks.
He’s been quiet through all of this, and I would love to know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t appear angry—the vein in his forehead that tends to pulse when he’s mad is absent—but his eyes are sad.
“He knows we got married, and according to Whimsy he knew we were together before, but he never said anything to me about it. I don’t think he knows about the … the baby.”
My mom traces my cheek in a gentle and soothing touch. I’m five again after I skinned my knee when I fell off my bike and she’s brushing tears off my cheek. I suppose no matter how old I get I’m always going to be her little girl.
“I hate that you carried all of this silently for years.” Her eyes move from me to Fisher and back again. “And I hate that you two thought you had to keep your relationship a secret.”
My shoulders droop. “Elias and Noah’s rivalry was burning bright back then. We didn’t want to do anything to fuck with their heads.”
My mom sits back and takes a sip of her wine. As soon as we got to the restaurant, she ordered one, muttering to herself that she was going to need alcohol for this.
“I’m still not quite understanding how you two got married. You said you haven’t been together in years?” There’s an accusatory tone to her question.
“We haven’t been,” I reply, playing with the earrings that line my right ear. “I think…” I hesitate, because Fisher is going to eat this admission up. “I think feelings never went away, they were just overshadowed by other things, so when we had time together at Noah and Sabrina’s place, and then in Vegas … lines got blurred and alcohol was involved and suddenly here we are.”
I feel Fisher’s eyes boring into the side of my face.
I just know he’s going to bring up my comment about feelings later.
Clearing his throat, my dad says, “Are we supposed to offer congratulations or are you getting this annulled? I don’t quite understand what your plan is here.”
His tone is sterner than I expected. He still doesn’t seem angry, but there’s something there I’m struggling to understand.
Fisher and I exchange a look and I nod, giving him permission to speak.
“I asked Ebba if she would give me a chance and she’s been kind enough to give me six months—if at the end of the six months she finds that she doesn’t want to be married to me anymore then we’ll take the next steps.”
“And if you decide to stay married will there be another wedding? Will I be awarded the opportunity to walk my only daughter down the aisle?” Tears pool in my eyes and my heart breaks.
“Oh, Dad.” I get up, going around the table to hug him. This is why he was acting funny. I didn’t think about how either ofthem might feel about missing out even if it was a drunken mishap.
“I know it’s silly,” he says, hugging me back. “But I always pictured myself walking you down the aisle. A father and daughter dance. I feel a little robbed.”
Letting him go, I return to my seat. “It wasn’t exactly planned, so I didn’t purposely exclude you, but I’m still sorry that it hurt you.”
He sniffles. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. It’s just that you’re my little girl.”
“Let’s tackle one thing at a time,” Fisher says and I’m actually thankful for his interjection. “Right now, the most important thing is to show Ebba that she’s the thing that matters most to me.”