I snickered a laugh. "I know, girl. Trust me, he is the worse for wear now. Anyway, I asked him how the fuck he found me when even I hadn't known we were going there. He claimed he’d asked you to use your phone tracker."
"That motherfucker," Bree hissed. "I'm going to break his damn nose. Why the fuck would he say that? It's not true. You know that, right? I would never do that."
I hesitated only a fraction of a second before I nodded. "You'll have to get in line on breaking his nose, babe. Kody hit him pretty hard this morning. But yeah, I didn't think you'd do that. It didn't really ring true when he said it."
She frowned. "You hesitated. Did you... MK, I would never put you in danger deliberately. Is this because of what happened after Archer's fight?" Her voice was small, hurt, and I felt like an asshole for rehashing a closed argument. That night, when she'd thought Dallas was hitting on me and taken off, she’d had no way of knowing I'd been drugged. Afterward, the guys hadn't let anyone else into the hospital to see me, but Bree and I had worked it all out in Aspen. We were good.
"No, no way. I didn't seriously think you'd done anything. But... I dunno, girl. You've been a bit sketchy since I got back from Cambodia, haven't you? There was a moment when I wondered if maybe... I dunno." I bit my lip at the stricken look on her face, but the damage was done. It was a conversation we were way overdue for.
"I..." Bree started to protest, but before she even got any words out, her face crumpled and tears welled up. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, and I scrambled to put my ice cream and wine down so I could hug her.
"Bree, babe. What's going on with you? I feel like the worst kind of friend that it's taken this long for me to even ask." I tried to keep my voice calm and understanding, but she was freaking me out. What was she apologizing for?
She sobbed into my shoulder for a couple of minutes, and I just ran my hand over her hair in the only soothing gesture I knew. Emotions and comfort weren't exactly my forte.
"God, I'm so sorry, MK," she sniffled as she peeled her face away from my T-shirt and swiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm such a fucking mess right now, and I'm the one who's been a crappy friend. I just..." She trailed off into another round of crying, and I clambered off the couch to fetch her some tissues from the bathroom.
"Here," I said, sitting back down and passing her the tissue box. "Take your time, girl. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to; I just want you to know I'm here for you. Okay?"
Bree blew her nose and dried her eyes, then shook her head. "No, I need to tell you. I want to tell you. It just never really seemed like the right time, you know? You've got so much on your mind with the stalker and the killers, and then there's your whole marriage thing? You seriously have so many more important things..."
"Whoa, no. Bree, I'm never too busy to listen to your problems. I'm sorry I made you feel that way." Guilt gnawed at my stomach to see Bree's raw emotions. I really hadn't been available to her since I'd come back. I'd been so caught up in all my problems... Yeah, they were heavy problems, but that didn't excuse how I’d ignored her pain.
I reached out and snagged the bottle of wine again to hand it to Bree.
"Drink, then talk. I'm listening."
She took a couple of calming breaths, then did as I said. She took three long swallows of the wine, an Australian Riesling, and then handed me back the bottle.
"Okay. Fuck. Okay, here goes." She didn't meet my eyes, instead looking down at her hands. "So, right before you got back from Cambodia"—she paused, taking another breath for courage—"about three weeks before, I guess, I found out that I was pregnant."
My jaw hit the floor.
"What?" Shock froze my brain for a few seconds, and fresh tears trailed down Bree's face. "Are you still..." My eyes shot to her flat stomach, and I shook my head. "No, obviously not. Sorry, that was dumb. What happened? Was it... was it