GRACE: Remember when we went to Vermont for New Year’s? It sort of turned into an elopement. Totally unplanned. But zero regrets <3
Beside me, Tucker is trying to peer at my phone. “What’s going on?” he pries. “What are they saying?”
“Grace just confirmed it. Apparently she and Logan eloped to Vermont over New Year’s.”
“New Year’s!” he balks. He’s already reaching for his phone, no doubt to open his own group chat.
“Yup. They’ve been keeping it from everyone for months. They only told their parents last night.”
We’re each typing on our respective phones now.
ME: Ahh, this is great news! I mean, nefarious tactics aside, I’m so happy for you two <3
GRACE: Thanks! We’re pretty happy ourselves.
HANNAH: For what it’s worth, Allie and I only stumbled on the news at your wedding, S. They’d already been married for months by then.
ALLIE: Yeah, see! I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin your big day. You’re welcome, bitch.
I send a middle finger emoji, followed by another reprimand.
ME: Don’t use my wedding as an excuse, you traitor. You should have informed everyone the moment you found out. I’m disappointed in you, Allison Jane.
ALLIE: Hannah’s pregnant.
My shriek nearly sends Tucker flying off his chair. “What?” he says anxiously. “Are you okay?”
I’m about to answer when Hannah’s response pops up, causing my jaw to slam closed.
HANNAH: No. No fair. You promised you wouldn’t say anything.
ALLIE: omg I’m sorry. It just slipped out. My fingers took on a life of their own. Maybe Alexander possessed them.
ME: Don’t you dare try to distract us. Also, Alexander is swimming with the fishes.
GRACE: Wait, what?
ME: We drowned him.
GRACE: No, the Hannah thing. You’re pregnant? I assumed you took the test after the wedding and it was negative so that’s why you didn’t say anything.
HANNAH: I’m sorry. I’m not keeping anyone in the dark on purpose. The test was positive. Allie’s the only one who knows.
HANNAH: I haven’t even told Garrett yet.
ME: Is this a group chat or a den of secrets and lies?
HANNAH: Don’t say anything to the guys. Please. Not until I tell Garrett.
“Sabrina?” Tucker keeps trying to read my screen.
I angle it away. “Sorry. We’re all giving Grace grief in the chat for hiding the marriage from us.”
“Yeah, Logan’s getting shit from us too.” He sends another text.
With Tucker distracted, I return my attention to my own tumultuous chat thread.
HANNAH: Please, you guys. Don’t say anything. I don’t even know what I’m going to do yet.
The rest of us are quick to reassure her.
ALLIE: I’m sorry I let it slip here. My lips are officially crazy-glued shut, babe.
GRACE: Mine too.
ME: I won’t say a word. Promise.
I bite my lip after sending the response. Normally I don’t keep secrets from Tucker. I trust that man with my life. With our daughter’s life. But I also know what it’s like to deal with an unplanned pregnancy. At least, I get the sense this one is unplanned. And if it is, then Hannah needs time and space to work through the flood of emotions—and hormones—she’s probably struggling to make sense of right now.
So I banish the news to a little box in my head labeled shut your damn mouth. Tuck will understand. He would’ve hated it with all his heart if he’d learned I was pregnant from anybody but me. Garrett deserves to hear it from his girlfriend, not us.
27
Sabrina
Night 3
At dinner later with Kevin and Bruce, Tucker still won’t let go of the fact that I’m refusing to swim in the ocean for the rest of our honeymoon. Hell, for the rest of our lives.
“I’m the one who got stung, but now she’s haunted by the water,” he tells them over tuna tartare in their immaculate dining room. The huge open space overlooks the pool deck and the turquoise panorama beyond their estate. “I swear, trying to steal my thunder at every turn.”
“I want none of your thunder,” I say sweetly, smirking at him over the rim of my wineglass. “You go ahead and wear your jellyfish sting as a badge of honor. I’ll be over there, safe on land.”
Tuck snickers.
I glance at our hosts. “In my defense, I barely escaped a fiery plane crash to get here. My nerves are a little rattled.”
“She spent all day writing our will,” my husband pipes up. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was planning to get rid of me.”
“You’re not serious?” Bruce stares at us in horror then washes it down with a gulp of red wine.
“True story,” I say. “There was some kind of electrical fire on the plane, and we had to make an emergency landing.”
“Meanwhile, this crazy couple in front of us, who were at each other’s throats the entire flight, are suddenly acting like the couple going down on the Titanic. Holding each other and professing their love.” Tucker gives a decisive nod. “Fun times.”