He raised a graying brow. “Really? I had cereal this morning and I felt just fine.”
“Huh.” She shrugged. “Must have been something else. Maybe I caught a bug.”
Daddy pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Are you sure? I noticed you’ve been skipping breakfast a lot. This morning wasn’t the first I’ve heard you throwing up.”
Panic rose, and she tried to stamp it down. “Stress isn’t good for my appetite or my stomach.”
“What’s got you worried?”
“Your health, Daddy. Always your health. Things are a little crazy at the salon and…and the holidays are coming up. And I’ve missed Cutter since he’s gone.”
Her father nodded like he heard every word she said—and he didn’t believe a single one. “Listen to me, Brea Felicity. If there’s something you want to tell me—”
“Cutter and I are thinking about getting married,” she blurted to cut him off.
After ten days of thinking through her options, she didn’t see many others that didn’t lead to giving up her home and family. She’d eventually have to tell Daddy she was expecting, and he would undoubtedly do the math. Hopefully, his health would be more stable then so he could better weather the shock.
That stopped his questioning instantly. “He proposed?”
“Yes.”
Her father frowned. “When?”
“A few days before he left for Cali. I’ve been thinking about it since.”
“I thought you two were just friends.”
“Well…” Think fast… “He hasn’t met anyone else he’d like to marry, but he’s thirty. He’s ready to settle down.”
“First I’m hearing of that.”
“And the time I spent with the man I’d been seeing convinced me that you’re right; no one else will ever be as good to me as Cutter. So we started talking about getting hitched.”
“Do you want to be married to Cutter?”
Brea tried not to squirm in her seat. “We both think the time to be sensible has come. I just need to let him know that I’m saying yes.”
If there was one thing Daddy appreciated, it was a well-measured response. This one would hopefully set him at ease.
To her surprise, he scowled. “I never meant to give you the impression you should marry for any reason other than love.”
“I know, but Cutter and I both think getting married seems like the logical, adult choice.”
“Hmm,” Daddy mused. “How’s that going to work?”
“What do you mean?”
“In Corinthians, Paul tells us one of the reasons for marriage is to avoid fornication. Cutter loves you, but not in a…carnal way. So if he’s marrying you to avoid succumbing to temptation…”
“We both know there will be an…adjustment.”
“A huge one.”
She acknowledged her father with a nod. “Neither of us expects our feelings to morph overnight. But Genesis tells us that it’s not good for man to be alone, so God made him a helpmate. In Cutter’s case, that’s me.”
“He’s been managing his own cooking and laundry for years. Why does he need a helpmate now?”
Brea dropped her silverware on her plate in frustration. The clatter lent her bravado. “What do you want, Daddy? We’ve decided to move forward together because we’re both lonely, we trust each other, and it makes sense. I was hoping you’d be happy for me. There’s no groom on the planet I can imagine you approving of more, yet you’re still questioning me?”
He held up both hands. “You’re right. I love Cutter like a son, and I hope he makes you happy. But your heart is tangled up elsewhere, and I want to be sure you’re not making this decision to please me or Cutter—or anyone else—at your own expense.”
Her problems were so much bigger than that. “We’ll find ways to be happy together.”
“I want that for you more than anything. And I don’t mean to question you.” He leaned forward. “You know the problem fathers have?”
She shook her head. “What?”
A faint smile crossed his face. “They never want to admit their little girls have grown up. And despite what you may think, I’m proud of you.”
He wouldn’t be proud of her if he knew this conversation was built on so many lies…
“Thanks, Daddy.” Brea tried not to get choked up, but it was hopeless.
“Hey.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Don’t cry. Weddings are a happy occasion. Once that boy comes back from California and asks me for your hand, we’ll have a celebration.”
“He will.” They hadn’t talked about it specifically, but Daddy wanting to give his blessing wouldn’t surprise Cutter.
“So when’s the big day? We have to start planning, after all.”
“We haven’t decided.” But they couldn’t afford to wait long.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll get all the details worked out.”
She nodded, but she couldn’t stop feeling as if she wouldn’t be planning her wedding so much as burying her future.
Friday, November 14
Brea gripped the toilet and retched again. Blasted morning sickness. She was nearly in week fifteen of her pregnancy. When the devil would it end?
This morning, she’d turned on her music in the bathroom, hoping it would disguise the sounds of her sickness, but Daddy was likely awake. What if he could hear her? How many more well-meaning lies would she have to tell him to keep her secret?
It was already too many.
After rising weakly from the floor, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and rinsed her mouth. The nausea wasn’t done with her yet; she knew that from experience. But after so much upheaval, her body felt weak.
She stumbled back to bed and grabbed her phone off her nightstand along the way. Five forty a.m.
Tears stabbed at her eyes. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d seen Pierce. She so badly wanted to call him, hear his gruff voice, confess how much she missed him. Tell him she still loved him. In her fantasy, he would say he loved her, too. Then she would confess they were having a baby, and he would be so happy, apologize for everything, propose instantly, and sweep her away to
