Page 20

Olive

S ebastian doesn’t walk through the door alone when he finally arrives at our mother’s house. The petite raven-haired girl who follows close behind him silences the conversation Mom and I are having about what the best kind of cheese is to have with white wine.

My brother closes the door behind them, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder when he guides her further into the house.

Her dark hair is a mixture of black, blue, and a hint of purple, and braided away from her face with a skill I can only hope to have some day.

She looks nervous, her dark brown eyes darting between me, my mother, and Sebastian, before taking a tentative step closer to him.

I’ll give her this; her makeup is flawless. If I didn’t know my shit about foundation or contouring, I probably wouldn’t even know she’s wearing any. I’ve always wished I could pull the no-makeup makeup look off.

I’ve never seen Sebastian with anybody, especially not here. But if this is his girlfriend, she’s cute.

And—“Oh my God,” I say aloud when she shifts to her side revealing the bump on her stomach.

I know that bump. It’s almost identical to what Skylar’s was when she was carrying Bentley. It’s not like mine, who clearly never says no to pasta. Or tacos. Or anything containing carbs, I guess. Nope. This girl is pregnant. Noticeably so.

Mom doesn’t catch on until a few seconds later, her confused brows pinched together until her eyes see what I do. “Oh.” Her eyes widen as they lock on Sebastian. “Honey…?”

He clears his throat. “Mom. Olive. This is Tori.” His hand slides from her shoulder to her lower back and stays there. “My wife.”

My eyes widen so much I think my eyeballs might fall out of my head. “Your what?”

“Wife,” Mom repeats in shock.

Tori’s face reddens as she offers a squeaky, “Hi,” accompanied by a little finger wave.

Mom and I both look at her hand to see the small gold ring there with a not-so-small diamond in the middle. If that thing is real, my brother must have spent some serious money.

I didn’t even know Sebastian was seeing anybody until now. But married? Like legally ? “I don’t know what to say,” I admit, blinking as my brain rushes to process the information. “Are we being pranked? Are there cameras?”

Mom gets her shit together quickly. “Hi. Hello.” She steps toward Tori and takes her hand with a wide smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Tori. I’m—wow. Sorry. I’m Claire. I’m just a little surprised.”

That’s a nice way of putting it.

Tori glances at Sebastian, using her elbow to nudge his ribcage.

“I told him we shouldn’t bring it up this way, but he said it was better to ‘rip off the Band-Aid’.

Not very romantic, but…” Her shoulders lift.

“I’m sorry to spring this on you, Claire.

And you must be Olive. Bash has told me so much about you. ”

Hopefully not all of it has been bad. “I’ve…” Do I lie? “Never heard anything about you. But I like your lashes. What mascara do you use?”

Sebastian glares at me. “Liv.”

“What? I’m not going to lie.”

Tori smiles at me. “Loreal Paris. Their panorama mascara is the best. I like your lipstick.”

“Estee Lauder in starlit pink,” I reply easily.

Mom clears her throat. “So…” She wets her lips and studies my brother and his girlfriend. Wife. Whatever.

They haven’t addressed the biggest piece of news, which I’m struggling not to stare at.

Even though I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive that she’s pregnant, I’m not saying a word until one of them confirms it.

When I was little, I poked a stranger’s belly in the supermarket and asked if there was a baby inside.

There wasn’t, and the woman had understandably been offended.

Granted, I was four and didn’t know any better.

But Mom drilled it into my head from that day forward to never assume.

Mom gestures for them to come in. “Please sit down and make yourself at home. Olive and I were just about to put some snacks together. What kind of—” She stops herself before asking Tori what kind of wine she wants. “—drink would you like? We have water, soda, coffee—”

“Wine,” I supply helpfully.

Mom clears her throat. If I were still standing next to her, she’d probably swat me. “Yes, we have plenty of that. Sebastian, do you want your usual black coffee?”

Once she serves them a black coffee and glass of cold water, we settle into the living room. I stare at the two of them before glancing at Mom, still in disbelief.

Nobody is saying anything.

Tori’s hand rests on the bump.

Sebastian keeps his hand locked around hers.

“I’m sorry,” I say, ignoring the full can of soda next to me.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that Sebastion just waltzed in here with a pregnant wife that we never met before or heard about? No offense, Tori. You seem cool and my brother usually isn’t a bad judge of character. Well…most of the time.”

He grumbles, tightening his hold on her.

“But seriously,” I press. “Mom got mad at me when I posted online that I aced my final without telling her first. This is like one hundred levels above that and she’s acting cool as a cucumber.”

Mom shoots me a look. “Firstly, you were stressing about that exam for weeks. You called me to vent about the course material at least four times a week leading up to it. I figured you’d at least tell me how you did when you worked yourself up about it for so long.”

Okay, point taken.

“Secondly,” she adds, eyeing me. “I’m trying to be reasonable. I’ll admit, this is a lot to take in. I mean, my baby boy is married. And I’m going to be a grandmother. Right?”

Her face lightens like that fully set in. I can tell she’s excited. Elated, is more like it. Those minty eyes shift toward Tori’s stomach.

“You are,” Tori confirms, brushing her bump.

Mom clears her throat, trying to sound stern despite the excitement in her eyes. “I would have liked to have more of a heads up about all of this, but what’s done is done. And I did not throw a fit when you posted about your final. I was just…disappointed.”

Even Sebastian rolls his eyes at that. “I was going to tell you about all of this sooner, but something would always come up,” he tells us.

He doesn’t seem nervous at all. Had he freaked out or is he in denial?

Or is he excited ? I’ve never heard him talk about being a husband or dad before, which makes sense.

It isn’t like that sort of conversation just pops up.

All I ever heard him talk about is hockey.

“And then I would get busy and decide to tell you the next time I saw you in person. Tori had her anatomy scan last weekend, which is why I couldn’t make it to Dad’s when you were there. ”

Tori gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I know you wanted him there.”

Mom pipes up. “Does that mean you know if it’s a boy or girl?

Or are you keeping it a surprise? Back in my pregnancy days, we didn’t get told that stuff.

We counted on the old wives’ tales to figure out what we were having.

I couldn’t stop puking when I carried Olive, so I was sure it was a girl. And, well, here we are.”

Tori glances at her stomach. “It’s going to be a surprise. But Sebastian is positive it’s a boy. He keeps having dreams about having a son.”

Mom beams. “A boy. Oh, how wonderful.”

Am I the only sane person here? “This is still mind blowing to me.”

Mom frowns. “What? You like kids. Tell your brother that you’re happy for him.”

Sighing, I look at Sebastian. “I’m happy for you. Both of you. But now the pressure is on for me to get married and have a traditional wedding, so thanks for that.”

My brother snorts in amusement because he knows I’m right.

Mom hits me with a pillow. “Olive! I would never do that. It’s your life. Whether you elope, have a traditional wedding, or not get married at all, I won’t care. As long as you’re happy.”

She’ll be disappointed, though. I know she would. I look at my brother. “Are you at least going to do a reception with people? We both know Mom would want that even though she’s pretending to be reasonable right now.”

The woman I look like sighs.

Sebastian’s lips twitch. “We’ll see.”

Instead of letting that discussion go on further, Mom changes the subject. “Tori, tell us about yourself. Now that you’re part of the family, I’d love to get to know you.”

For the next hour, we learn all about my brother’s twenty-five-year-old wife.

Unlike most of the girls he went for who seemed ditzy like the bimbos our father dated, Tori is educated, witty, and sweet.

She has a degree in sports journalism and was covering one of their games, did an interview with him, and apparently, the rest is history.

Something tells me there’s a lot they left out for the sake of our eyes and ears, and I appreciate that.

Nobody asks how long they’ve known each other or how long they’ve even been married.

I’m not sure Mom even wants to know the answer.

All she really cares about is if Sebastian is happy. And he seems like he is. He’s calm and always has a hand on Tori’s leg or finger or palm.

I find myself frowning after a while because I realize I miss that.

Physical contact. The butterflies. When Alex and I watched movies, he would always touch me.

It could be innocent, and my heart would still sing inside its cage like a damn bird.

If we were walking around campus or bantering at parties, he would always find a way to brush our hands or hit me with those bedroom eyes that would do some funny things to my ovaries, even if there was no sex involved.

Ugh. I hate this. I hate being lonely. I hate feeling like I need somebody when I know I don’t. It taunts me, scratching at my conscious. And worse. My heart.

Peeling my gaze away from my brother, I bite down on the inside of my cheek and realize the room is silent.

“Olive?” Mom says softly.

I blink. “Huh?”