bathroom feels a lot smaller with all four of us in it.
“Are you okay?” Mags asks.
With my head resting on the toilet seat, I nod.
“Ugh.” Azalea gags. “Sit up.”
I do and she slams the lid and flushes.
“What’s going on?” Myla Rose asks, running the hand towel under the faucet. She passes it to me and I press it to the back of my neck.
“I don’t—the cake—I don’t know.”
“Girl, the cake was fine,” Azalea says.
Myla gets a worried look in her eyes. “Seraphine, is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
My initial reaction is to deny it, but—that first time Mateo and I slept together, we didn’t use a condom.
Surely, I’m not…
“I have a few tests at home, let me run and grab one,” Myla Rose says, slipping from the bathroom before any of us can object. Though, I guess I’d be the only one to actually object.
Since she lives next door, she is back in a flash. She slides the test from her purse and hands it to me. “We’ll be right outside, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Okay.” They all start to file out when a thought hits me. “Wait! Aren’t you supposed to do this in the morning or something?”
Myles smiles at me. “Just go ahead and do it, ‘kay?”
Gulping, I nod.
It takes me a few minutes to work up the courage—as well as the need to pee. During that time, I swish my mouth out with water, wash my hands, and thoroughly read the instructions.
Finally, all that’s left is to do it. I pee on the stick, recap it, and place it facedown before flushing and washing my hands yet again.
The second they hear the flush, all three come filing back in.
“Well?” Azalea asks.
“It said to wait three minutes,” I whisper.
Ever the girl scout, Myla Rose flips her phone around so we can see the screen. “I started the time when I heard the flush.”
We fall silent while we wait for the alarm. When it dings, I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Flip it over,” Azalea urges.
I suck in a big breath and slowly release it before turning over the little stick. Sure enough, two dark pink lines greet me.
Holy. Shit. “I’m—”
“Pregnant,” Magnolia finishes my sentence.
“What are you gonna do?” Azalea asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Abortion? Adoption? Mom up?”
Her words hit me square in the chest. While I absolutely believe every woman has the right to choose, I know immediately that I am keeping this baby. “I’m gonna be a mom,” I whisper, a million different conflicting emotions clogging my throat.
Like the ride-or-dies they are, all three of my friends wrap me in a hug.
“I’m really happy for you,” Magnolia says, her cheeks wet with tears.
“Me, too,” Myla Rose echoes her sentiment. “Motherhood is one hell of a journey, but it’s also the most amazing journey. You got this, girl.”
“Yeah, happy-joy-joy,” Azalea, lightening the mood with her particular brand of snark, “but how are you gonna tell Mateo?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Mateo
I’m switching a load of laundry—shop rags—when my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. As lame as it may sound, I’m hoping it’s Seraphine.
Last night, after Willow’s party wound down, Myla Rose declared the womenfolk needed a slumber party, and while I’m always happy to see Seraphine spend time with those she loves and who love her, my bed felt empty last night without her in it.
After tossing the last of the rags into the dryer, shutting the door, and hitting start, I slide my phone from my pocket. My lips curve into a smile at the sight of her name.
Seraphine: Can we talk?
Worry slides in, crowding my earlier happiness against the wall.
Me: Always. What’s up?
Seraphine: In person?
Me: You never need to ask. Where are you?
Seraphine: On your porch.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and fly to the door. Sure enough, there on the other side of it, is Seraphine looking a little worse for wear.
“Come inside.” I haul her into the house and into my arms, holding her close. I’m not sure what’s up, but she’s clearly upset. Her downturned lips, watery eyes, and curved shoulders have me going into knight-mode, ready to slay her dragons. “Are you okay?”
She steps out of my embrace and wraps her arms around her middle. “Can we sit?”
“Of course.”
In the living room, she heads for the couch, but I pull her onto my lap in my chair. For a minute, she sits there, her back ramrod straight before finally melting into me.
“Talk to me, mariposita.”
She inhales a wobbly breath. “You said we’d be okay,