Page 35 of When Forever Falls Apart

Whatever it takes.

CHAPTER 10Madelina

“Did you need me to drive you back to the city or something?” I offer, my voice etched with concern.

Eva tucks the soft strands of her hair behind her ears. She leans down, retrieving her bag from the floor quietly.

After I returned home last night, we indulged in a tub of ice cream and succumbed to our guilty pleasure of binge-watchingTwilight.

Eva has always been Team Edward, while I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about as exciting as a rock. I mean, the guy barely says anything and follows Bella around like an idiot. Don’t get me started on Bella, because she is a whole other problematic character.

For me, it was all about Alice—sharp, witty, and refreshingly unpredictable. Eva insists that this is because I share those qualities. I can’t see it myself, but it always sparks an amusing conversation between us.

“I’m pregnant, but still very much capable of driving,” Eva snaps back, her tone sharp as glass. “This is exactly what I mean. Everyone’s going to start treating me differently.”

I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to tell her how lucky she is because so many women struggle with infertility. Yet, I know Eva too well. She’s sensitive, and voicing my thoughtscould set off a ripple that leads to another discussion about her feelings.One must not anger the hormonal creature in front of me,I say inside my head.

“Okay, but promise you’ll call me if you need anything?” I say, hoping to reassure her. “Anything at all. Now that I have Beatrice, I can visit anytime.”

“Who?” she questions in annoyance.

“Beatrice, my green Mini Cooper.”

“You bought a car?”

“Yes, I’m sure I told you. Elliot helped me.”

“Well, sorry,” Eva drags, unapologetic. “I have more important things on my mind.”

I take a deep breath, willing myself to practice patience at this very moment. I open my mouth to respond, but pause, since I know whatever I say will be taken the wrong way.

“Maddy, promise me you won’t tell Aston?” she pleads, her eyes wide with a mix of urgency and fear. “Like, don’t breathe a single word. I know he’s your brother, but I need to do this.”

“I won’t tell him,” I say with uncertainty, knowing this will be the hardest secret to keep. “He’s going to find out, Eva.”

“Just give me time to process it. Then I’ll tell him,” Eva insists, a tremor of desperation in her voice. “But not now.”

“Okay.”

We share an embrace and I hold on to her tight. It’s hard to imagine being in her position. When Myles and I briefly discussed kids, we did so with excitement, even though we had planned to wait until the time was right. Though Georgina, Myles’s mother, had other plans. She made it her mission to inform me that my eggs won’t stay young forever.

Eva heads back to the city to avoid running into Elliot and Billie, worried they would notice her changed demeanor. Given Billie’s keen intuition, I can’t blame Eva for seeking a quiet exit. Yet Aston is just as intuitive. Surprisingly, hedidn’t blow up my phone last night, nor question why I was upset and needed girl time. Honestly, he’s so self-centered at times.

Out of respect for Eva, the secret will need to simmer a while longer despite my urge to tell everyone I’m going to be an aunt.

The morning rush at the café keeps all three of us occupied. After Elliot’s brazen remark about my nipples yesterday, embarrassment flushes my cheeks every time I see him, forcing me to seek solace in the kitchen. I even wore a black blouse, determined to avoid any accidental sightings that could add to my mortification.

I carry a tray of key lime pie donuts to the main glass cabinet and begin refilling them. From the corner of my eye, I catch Elliot’s cocky grin, which is infuriatingly charming. With my shoulders back and head held high, I refuse to play his games and instead focus on the tables, once the display is refilled.

A group of bird watchers just emptied table eight, leaving several plates and mugs. I was forced to engage in conversation earlier, and boy, were they a boring bunch.

Quickly, I stack the plates, and with my arms piled high, I head back into the kitchen only to collide with Elliot.

“You know, avoidance is a challenging game. There’s only so much you can do before you’re faced head-on with the truth,” Elliot teases with a provocative playfulness that irks me.

I exhale forcefully, the sound escaping me like a deflating balloon, as I unload the dishes into the sink. Rinsing them off takes precedence over whatever witty retort I might muster.

But I’m a sucker for punishment.