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After resting for a few minutes, everyone gathered in the dining room. Timothy refused to leave my side after my attack. I kept on telling him that I’m fine, but he brushed it off by saying, ‘I’m not taking chances.’

I saw everyone seated on the table and me and Timothy sat on the vacant chair. After my attack, I was starving, and Mrs. James’s cooking is heavenly. Nobody talked unless it was ‘Pass me the pork roast.’ Or ‘Can you pass me the stew.’. We all cherish the meal quietly, not the uncomfortable kind of quiet that I was expecting.

While Mrs. Frero was serving us dessert, I decided to speak up. “So, um…” Where did my bravery go? I glance at Timothy and he sent me a reassuring smile. I grab his hand that was beside and face our family. “So… the reason why we called you here—"

“Oh my gosh!” Tiffany interrupted, squealing again. Seriously, how did her husband deal with her squealing? “You’re pregnant?”

I shook my head no while Timothy laughed. This family needs a chill pill.

Mi hija,” Pedro said with a warning tone that made Tiffany shut up and sit back on her chair before glancing at me to go on.

“I’m not pregnant,” I said, and I heard Adrian mutter a quiet ‘Thank, God.’ But I chose ignored it. I turn to Timothy for him to continue.

“We are getting married,” Timothy said.

I prepared my eardrums for the screams or squeals that come after as I was expecting them to, especially Tiffany but the silence was something I didn’t look forward to. Everyone was quiet, gaping at me and Timothy like a fish. If someone drop a needle, I will hear it.

“What?!” Adrian was the first one to get his bearings and it snapped everyone back to present.

I covered my ears when Tiffany suddenly screamed, unpredicted, and move to hug me so tight crushing the breath out of me. Martha was crying while Pedro console her.

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” Tiffany kept on squealing in my ears and rocking me back and forth. “I can’t believe that we are officially going to be sisters!”

“Yeah,” I said, slightly moving away from her. “We will be.”

“Oh, dear,” Martha pulled me into a hug when I stood up to move away from a squealing Tiffany. She cups my face with her warm hands that a few tears drop from my eyes. Her touch reminds of my own mother. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too,” I said, smiling while crying.

Bonita,” Pedro called. I smiled and went over to his waiting arms. “I hope you are happy,” he whispered into my ear.

I press a kiss on his check. This man has been my father figure. “Si, muy feliz. Can I ask you something?”

Si.”

“Can you walk me?”

Pedro pull away from me and held my hands. His eyes are misty with unshed tears. “I would be glad to walk you.”

I smiled and hug him again. I felt his press a kiss on my temple before letting go. “Go talk to your brother,” He said. “He’s not accepting the news well.”

I glance at the direction of my brother and saw that he and Timothy were missing. I look at Tiffany and she signaled at the back door. I nod my thanks and quietly followed. I regret not wearing anything warmer as I head out, rounding the back door heading towards the garage where I heard voices.

“Sorry for not asking you first.”

I stop by the wall of the garage when I heard Timothy’s voice. This is wrong. I’m eavesdropping on their private conversation, but I can’t make myself leave the wall that I’m hiding.

Forget-Me-NotDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora