Page 102 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

I found Melody standing in front of their massive refrigerator, glaring at a wheel of brie. Did it turn?

“I hate pregnancy,” she announced.

“You’re glowing and beautiful and creating life.”

“I’m bloated and can’t eat brie and I have to pee every seventeen minutes.” She closed the fridge with more force than necessary. “Do you know how long until this baby is born?”

“Seven and a half months?”

“Seven and a half months without brie, Cleo. That’s practically a year.”

I tried not to laugh. Failed. “That is a crime against humanity.”

“Thank you!” She threw her hands up. “Finally someone understands.”

Austin poked his head in. “I’m heading out. You two have fun with your cheese drama.”

“Abandoning your pregnant fiancée in her time of need?” Melody called after him.

“You have Cleo. Cleo is better at cheese feelings than I am.” He grabbed his keys. “Love you both. Don’t burn the house down.”

The door closed behind him.

Melody looked at me. “Want to judge me while I eat an entire bowl of grapes?”

“Always.”

We moved to the living room with our snacks. Grapes for Melody and the contraband brie for me because I wasn’t pregnant. Crackers, hummus, and little chocolate wafer things. I settled into the corner of their huge sectional while Melody arranged herself with several pillows.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

“I will be once I find the perfect pillow configuration.” She adjusted one behind her back. “Okay. Wedding talk. Hit me.”

I pulled out my phone where I’d been keeping a running checklist. “Final dress fitting is tomorrow at ten. Flowers are ordered and will be there. I confirmed with the photographer and the officiant. Everything is set.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know.” I scrolled. “Your something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue are all sorted.”

“What’s my something blue again?”

“The garter I bought you.”

She grinned. “Right. I love it.”

“I know you do.” I set my phone down. “Melody, everything is perfect. You’re going to have the wedding of your dreams.”

“We’re going to have the wedding of my dreams.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Please. You absolutely could have.”

“But I didn’t want to.” Her eyes got misty. “God, pregnancy hormones are the worst. I’m going to cry at everything this weekend, aren’t I?”

“Probably.”

“Great. That’ll look amazing in the photos.”

We went through the rest of the checklist. Everything was locked in. Everything was ready. I should have felt excited. Proud. This was what I’d been working toward for three weeks. Instead, I just felt tired.