Until I Met You

Chapter Twenty-Five

Samantha found Naomi waiting for her on the porch swing. With her legs tucked beneath her and her cheeks wet, there was something almost childlike about her demeanour. Gone was the Goddess of Thunder. Samantha climbed the steps to the porch and stood before her. ‘It’s a fine day for a wedding.’

Naomi made a face. ‘It’s a little hot, if you ask me.’

‘It’ll cool down by sundown.’

‘Sam, there’s not going to be a wedding.’

‘I came all this way for a wedding. There’d better be one.’

‘Sorry to disappoint.’

‘You’ll disappoint your fiancé. He’s a wreck.’

‘You saw Anthony? I thought you were at brunch?’

‘Well, I was, but then—’

‘How is he?’

‘Honestly? Not great. He says he loves you.’

‘I’m a wreck, too.’ Naomi wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

‘Come inside. Samantha unlocked the door to the bungalow and escorted Naomi into the sitting area. Naomi collapsed onto the sofa with a long sigh. ‘How did things get so bloody awful?’

Samantha handed her a bottled water from the refrigerator. ‘Here is what I’ve gathered so far. Your future mother-in-law said something awful, which set off a chain reaction.’

Naomi shrugged. ‘Everyone has been pretty much awful. Lucy had the courage to say what everyone was thinking.’

‘Not true!’ Samantha pushed aside her laptop and her crystals and sat down on the coffee table. ‘Your friends have your back. We’ve been supportive.’

‘That’s rubbish, too.’

‘Naomi! I resent that.’

‘Give it a rest. You’ve been against this wedding from the start. You haven’t even tried to get to know Anthony.’

Samantha’s outrage stalled. To this day, she knew nothing about Anthony except that he was shredded and had a nice smile. She racked her brain for more. He was easygoing, playful, loyal, a sentimental fool who believed in love at first sight, and an only child who wanted a big family.

Samantha shot to her feet and grabbed a banana from the complimentary fruit basket on the kitchen counter. She had to eat something before she passed out. As she chewed on the overripe fruit, the gears of her brain started spinning. Anthony wanted a big family. Naomi wanted a mini van to join the neighbourhood carpool. By the time she sat back down on the coffee table, she’d connected all the dots. ‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’

Naomi’s gaze fell to the floor.

Samantha was hurt that her best friend would keep something this big from her. But they were no longer girls sharing secrets in a pillow fort. Anthony was Naomi’s person now, not Jen, not anyone else. Samantha had to find her person, too. Someone to dream up a future with and share secrets deep in the night. She knew for certain Timothy was not that person. She could not rule out Roman that easily, and that made her heart break just a little.

After a long stretch of silence, Naomi looked up and said, ‘If we’re going to dive into this, I’m going to need something strong to drink.’

Samantha was on it. ‘Should I raid the mini bar? I haven’t touched it because who can afford—’

‘Tea, Sam,’ Naomi said. ‘I’d like a strong cup of tea, please.’

‘Right.’

Naomi was pregnant. She wanted tea, not whisky. Why was she having trouble keeping up? She rummaged through a tin replenished daily by the housekeeping staff and came up with nothing stronger than an English breakfast. She held up the packet for Naomi’s approval. ‘This OK?’

‘It’s fine.’