“Okay, now can I cry?” Hallie asks, staring at the three of us, eyes bright.
“Now is the perfect time,” Molly says. “But no tearstains on the dresses.” She points to Julie and me. “So, if either of you are crying, take them off first.”
“Well, I’m not crying now,” mutters Julie under her breath.
And instead of crying, everyone just laughs.
“Oh, and also, Hal, I found you your wedding day lingerie.” Molly grabs the fourth pink bag and tosses it to Hallie. “Saved you the trip since I was there anyway.”
“Bless you,” Hallie says. “I don’t even care if it’s a little weird that you picked out my wedding day underwear. I hate bra shopping.”
“It’s not weird,” I say. “Or maybe it is for some people, but not for us. This wedding was never going to be anything but a family affair.”
My voice breaks a little on the last word. I’m not a crier, so three pairs of eyes immediately snap to me. As the last week—or maybe the last eight years, who knows—catch up to me, I can’t stop my eyes from filling.
“Uh, I think it’s time for those details now, Em,” Hallie says, voice laced with concern.
I just nod at her, afraid if I open my mouth words will come pouring out. If I’m about to give my best friends my biggest secret—one I’ve kept from them for almost a decade—I have to do it right.
One look at my face has Julie snapping into action.
“Office is closed for the rest of the day. Dresses and new underwear off first. Hallie, go get the margaritas started. I think we need drinks for this conversation.”
“Do we ever,” I mutter.
Looks like probably never is now.
Chapter Nine
Emma
At my usual seat around our office kitchen island, I take a slow sip of the margarita in front of me. And then another one. And another. Maybe if I keep drinking for long enough, I’ll figure out how to tell my friends my most closely guarded secret. The one I swore I would never tell anyone. The one I’m about to tell everyone.
Another sip.
“Stop stalling, Emma.”
I look over the rim of my glass at three pairs of eyes staring at me, expectantly, and I take a deep breath before setting my glass down.
No turning back now, I guess. Without the patience for fortitude or tact, I open my mouth and let it all out.
“I slept with Jeremy eight years ago.”
Silence.
Absolute, utter silence.
No sarcastic remark from Molly. No admonishment from Julie. No quiet disappointment from Hallie for keeping a secret for this long. Nothing.
I drop my head and stare down into my drink. If my stomach wasn’t churning and my brain wasn’t racing, I would probablylaugh at my friends’ thunderstruck looks. But sitting here waiting for their reactions to a bombshell of a secret I’ve kept from them for almost a decade, I just don’t have it in me.
Julie recovers first, leaning across the island and laying her hand over mine. Surprised, I look up and meet her eyes. All I see there is quiet support.
“Talk to us, Em.”
I meet Hallie’s eyes, and then Molly’s, and all the encouragement I see has me sucking in a breath and blinking back tears. Right here around this kitchen island is family. It’s sisterhood and support and friendship and love. The kind that lasts lifetimes. I can tell them anything, and I know they’ll be gentle with my secrets.
So, I tell them everything.
