...

Travis calls on my way to Edge. I answer and he's already asking something about the hotel for the wedding.

"This is what Lauren's group call is for," I joke.

"Yea, but I'm making the rez now. Trix says their block will sell out or something," Travis answers. "And Brody didn't pick up."

"I am sure their block still has rooms available. Needs to be booked by September first." I tell him. "Plus, they haven't even sent their invites out yet."

I still cannot believe it's only one and a half months out. I find myself stupid excited to be back on the East Coast, back with all my oldest friends again. Excited, but anxious. I think of myself at the wedding –seeing Emmy and Josh together. I picture Cece on my arm. I create drama in my own head for drama's sake.

What if I don't bring Cece? Or she can't end up coming for some other publicity reason? My stomach soars at the idea. Not because I think she won't have a good time, or we won't. Mainly because I don't want to be worried about making sure she's entertained.

I pull around the back parking lot and sneak into the side door. It's almost 5 PM on a Friday, so prime shopping time. The gym level is packed and there's a line of Gen Zers waiting for rooftop access.

"Should have gotten more tables up there," Miles says when I enter the back room.

"The roof?"

"Yea the roof. Where else?" Miles hands me a stack of mail.

"There were zoning rules and stuff," I say, shrugging. "It'll die down. Once people stop paying $23 for a cocktail."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't. Good for business. And so is your celebrity girlfriend." Miles grins. "Speaking of Cece, how was the yacht party?"

I drop the stack of envelopes on top of the printer. "Yacht party was as expected. And hot."

"I've been in the AC all day," he says. "So, do you have the full list of the deliveries coming next week? I only see the ones for the new Men's collection."

"It's all in email. I can pull it up."

Miles moves out of the chair and pushes it towards me. I sit in front of the computer and click the Edge icon on the home screen to log into my user ID. I sign into my email and pull up the last order confirmations from our suppliers.

"Here's the whole list. Every new release, separated by ship dates and ETAs," I tell Miles, looking at the color-coded spreadsheet.

He doesn't answer.

"Miles?"

"Um–"

I turn and see Miles standing in the doorway behind me, his phone in-hand. The look on his face –I can't quite place it.

"What?" I ask, standing up and pulling my own phone out.

No missed calls. No texts.

"What?" I ask again.

"Do you have something you want to tell me?" He asks, almost smiling.

"Not that I know of? What's up?"

"Have you seen this?"

Miles holds out his phone. I see a bright red banner across the top of the webpage. Some big celeb-gossip site.

The first thing I notice is the picture, not the caption. The picture is innocent enough: Cece and I on the boat deck from this afternoon's party. I'm so used to seeing snaps of us in tabloids, it's basically boring at this point.

Then I see the caption:

Water Bottle to Baby Bottle

Rumors model-actress Cece Majors is expecting baby No. 1 with longtime beau and new fiancé. Click for more about business mogul Jay Brooks.

"What the fuck?" I panic.

One. Million. Panics.

"It's on like three platforms already, man." Miles looks at me apprehensively.

My eyes race through the article, which seems to have been written by someone at the yacht party. Literally an hour ago. They heavily analyzed everything Cece and I did, focusing on her only drinking water and avoiding the sushi at all costs.

The photo is a candid shot, with Cece leaning against the railing holding a water bottle and me holding her hand but looking down. Seems sweet enough.

"This is bullshit," I say to Miles *to myself*. "Can't be true. She'd have told me."

"Would she?" Miles asks. "Remember that other night they came over? Now that I think about it, I don't think Cece drank then either."

"Fuck," I whisper.

This unplanned pregnancy is really the absolute LAST thing I feel like even sparing time to think about.

My text thread with Cece is already open and I'm about to call when a message from her pops up.

DO NOT FREAK

If you see it... don't freak

I'm sure you'll see it

I read her texts and notice they're not very reassuring. There's no 'I'm not pregnant'.

"You good here?" I ask Miles, distracted.

"Yes, I just needed the list. You're free to go... deal." Miles looks away awkwardly.

"See ya tomorrow."

Never have I been in and out of Edge so quickly. I don't even remember getting back into my car or driving back to the apartment.

Cece is already out front waiting for me.

"Hey," I say quietly.

"Hi babe."

"So? Are you..." My voice trails into nothingness.

"No. I mean, I think no. Pretty sure," she says, chewing her lip.

"Pretty sure you think no?" I ask.

"I mean the water drinking was just a coincidence. Sushi too. As for the sources -they're full of shit. Whoever they even are."

We're walking back up to our apartment now and my mind is still jumbled. "But how are you only pretty sure?"

"Well it has been about two months, but I've been so stressed lately. Plus, I was on that cleanse." Cece pauses to stare at me. "We can take a test. If that will put your mind at ease."

"I think we should. Don't you?" I ask. "Better to know one way or another."

"Okay, so let's get a test."

...

It's not the first time I've been with someone to take a pregnancy test. But it is the first time it's with a fiancée. The first time it feels V adult. The first time it's a result of a paparazzi tabloid photo post combo.

God, I'm already panicking thinking of my mom reading this online. Brody. Travis. Other people.

"Okay, I'm done. Good thing I drank all that water today," Cece emerges from the bathroom joking. "Here we go."

It's been about three hours since the rumor mill started churning out this shit. I've already fielded two calls and multiple texts that will continue to live on unread. Three hours and I can't help myself from thinking *wondering* why Cece was drinking all the water. Did she know? Does she hope? Now that I think about it, I haven't seen her drink alcohol in at least a month.

"And now we wait," she says.

I am standing in front of a woman I love, someone who is great -who is everything that I should want and do want. She makes sense. We make sense. But as I'm watching her stare at the stick in her hand –waiting an entire lifetime masquerading as 60 seconds –I realize it's not what I want.

Any of it.

I mean, I want kids. I want a family. I want to grow old and gray beside someone on a front porch somewhere. I want it all. I'll even take an unplanned pregnancy. It's just the wrong woman holding the stick.

Cece looks up at me, gives sort of a nervous-smile, and inhales looking back down at the stick's screen.

An entire future flashes before my eyes. Not in some near-fatality kind of way but is a cosmic epiphany of some sort. It's like being hit by a freight train, only that's not dramatic enough.

"Phew, we are good," Cece exhales.

Cece's voice is distant, muffled by the sound of my heartbeat that I hear reverberating in my head.

"– Even hear me? Babe? Hello, Earth to Brooks." She raises an eyebrow.

She holds up the pink test, smiling with relief.

"You're positive?" I ask, confusing myself. "I mean you're positive it's negative?"

"Yes! I can count lines," Cece says, trying to tease.

Joking is the last thing on my mind. In fact, I may never joke again. I can feel my face change instantly. She must pick up on this since she steps back and crosses her arms.

"Geesh, lighten up, babe." She's still holding the test in one hand.

"I'm trying." I run my fingers through my hair.

"Come on. Can we please order takeout now? I'm starving."

"You can. I'm not very hungry anymore," I lie.

"Brooks, I know you're stressing. But there's nothing to worry about! The tabloids will forget about it all next week. Won't be the last time they spread rumors around." She rolls her eyes.

"Um, what about everyone I need to explain this to?"

Cece shrugs. "Just tell them the media is making stuff up again."

I scoff at this, to which she rolls her eyes again.

"Babe, don't you think you may be overreacting? It's just minor celeb gossip. It's garbage," she insists. "A debunked myth."

"You're right." I nod.

Cece waltzes over and swings her arms around me. I kiss the top of her head and let my cheek rest on it.

My eyes fall to the pee stick currently occupying our countertop.

"You're right," I mumble.