My Fiancé Chose My Brother, So I Chose My Brother's Best Friend novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Two Lines

Twenty-four days after the wedding I was sitting on the lid of a toilet in a public bathroom, holding a plastic stick.

I had a temp job at the front desk of a freight broker on West Thirty-Fourth, three hundred and fifty dollars a day cash, and a friend's couch that smelled of dog.

I had changed my phone number the day after Spencer's father started calling it.

I had not eaten breakfast in a week without throwing it up.

I told myself it was stress.

I told myself that for nine days.

Then I bought the test at a pharmacy on my lunch break and paid with the last of my cash.

Two lines.

I looked at them for a long time.

The bathroom light buzzed.

Somebody ran the tap at the next sink.

My hand went flat against my stomach without my deciding it.

One night.

One night, in a hotel room on the eleventh floor, and a man I had told to go back to his hotel.

"Okay," I said out loud.

My voice sounded steady.

I put the test in my bag, washed my face and went back to my desk.

I had been there six minutes when the lobby doors opened and Spencer Lyle walked in with a bouquet of red roses.

He had a camera crew behind him.

Not a real crew.

A friend with a phone held up at shoulder height, grinning.

"Estelle!" Spencer called across the lobby, warm and loud. "There she is."

Half a dozen people in the lobby turned around.

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