Page 87 of Waiting to Win

The door is slightly ajar, so I take the liberty to push it farther open, and I find my friend sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping a tear away.

Instantly, I’m concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Hadley, I need to tell you something,” she sniffles. “I can’t keep it in anymore.”

“You’re scaring me,” I inform her and sit next to her, touching her arm in comfort. “It’s okay. If you don’t like my attempt at a charcuterie board, you can tell me. Is that what it is?”

She smiles through her tears. “It’s delicious, just my stomach didn’t agree.”

I frown. “Oh gosh, I can’t afford to poison people at dinner tonight, not when a hockey team is relying on two of the guys present.”

“They’ll be fine. It’s me. All me. I’m pregnant.”

My eyes wash over her body to study if she is joking with me, but she isn’t. I’m frozen from shock. “W-what?”

“A few months, actually.”

“Huh?” I’m speechless. “How.”

“A hurricane,” she hiccups.

My eyes drive side to side as I register the timeline. “As in…”

She blows out a long breath. “Nobody knows. Not even…” She can’t seem to muster the name.

But I can, and this is a twist. “Vaughn Madden,” I croak out.

And she nods.