Page 29 of Bound Hearts

I press my hands together in mock prayer. “Thank you.” We both crack up, united in our survival strategies. “No clue what to get the kid. Hayes says nothing, but I’m not buying that for a second.”

“Completely. But I have a secret,” she taunts coyly.

“Oh yeah?” I’m intrigued.

She nods. “Elodie will never say it, she’s too humble, but she has a wish list of things she wants for Lola. We share our favorite lists for online shopping. I think she forgot about it.” Sutton picks up her phone from the table, searching for the list with her thumb.

“Here.” She hands me her phone. “I need to run to the ladies' room,” she informs me as she scoots off her seat and then scurries away.

I scroll down the list and find a few ideas. My eyes slide up when I notice the hostess seating a couple beside us. The woman is heavily pregnant. They both seem incredibly happy, clearly on a date night.

I freeze for a second. Watching them flips a switch in my mind, replaying recent moments: Sutton dizzy at my office, at the gym, sleeping in when she never does, her sudden aversion to enchiladas. Her workload’s busy but nothing she can’t handle. None of it adds up—except maybe it does.

I purse my lips, mentally ticking off every little sign. It’s not about us or anything between us—she hasn’t seemed herself lately.

I drum my fingers anxiously on the table. A possibility nags at me, refusing to let go. Curiosity and caution wrestle in my head. Sutton draws out a side of me I barely recognize. I scan the restaurant to make sure she’s out of sight, then give in to temptation I know I should resist.

I swipe the list away and start hunting through her phone for that app—the one with the lotus flower icon that once flashed an ovulation alert and stuck in my mind. I tap it, squinting at the unfamiliar interface, but the answer is right there at the top of the screen, impossible to miss.

Period late. Your cycle is longer than normal.

Letting the sentence sink in, I bite the inside of my lip and feel the sudden increase in my heart rate that hammers my chest.

It all adds up.

The possibility that Sutton is pregnant.

It leaves me oddly calm—neither elated nor disappointed, steady.

I exit the app and pull up her calendar, quickly swiping and until later in the year, checking possible timeframes based on when I checked her app and homing in the simple fact that time is on my side. If she’s pregnant, then there will be a baby before my birthday.

When I see Sutton returning from across the room, I exit the app and press the side button on her phone to put it to standby, then hand it back to her as she arrives.

She brightly smiles. “Did you find something?”

Yes.

“Hmm?”

“The list for Lola,” she reminds me.

I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

Sutton slides back into the booth and tucks stray hair behind her ear before taking a sip of her water almost self-consciously.

“Everything alright?” I prod.

“Yeah. I think I’m under the weather. A few people in the department are.”

I lean back, studying her as if for the first time. The possibility shifts everything—even the way she sips her water seems different. She has no idea what I’m thinking. Or does she?

She could be pregnant.

With my child.

But she hasn’t mentioned anything.

Her gaze meets mine, and one thing I learned in life is that if someone can look you in the eyes, then there is a high chance they’re not lying. Right now, there is nothing that indicates she is hiding anything from me. Unlike me. But it isn’t lying, it’s holding off on confronting her.