I watched my man head off on his mission, admiring how handsome he looked in his tuxedo, and so full of love for him I could barely contain it. My eyes landed on my peony ring, and I felt my stomach flutter as I recalled the image of Caleb down on one knee proposing. I did love my ring. The stone looked like a wine-colored pearl—so unique and beautiful—I was afraid it would be damaged if I wore it all the time because it was a piece of bejeweled art rather than a typical engagement ring. It had to have cost a fortune.
As I waited for Caleb to return, I indulged in some people watching. It was fascinating to imagine what people were feeling or thinking about as they went about their evening at a charity gala such as Boston’s Autumn Ball. For example, Caleb’s brother Lucas was definitely brooding from across the room. He appeared to be people watching, too. I followed his line of sight to Victoria and her fiancé, Clay Whitcomb, who I’d met a few weeks ago. If I had to make a guess, I’d say Victoria wasn’t in a much better mood than Lucas was, based on her body language and how she turned away from Clay while he was speaking to her. Victoria and Clay seemed like an odd pairing to me, but I didn’t know either of them well enough to make a judgment; it was more of an impression.
Winter and James had come together tonight, but she’d told me numerous times they were just good friends. I wasn’t so sure about James’s interpretation of good friends and her interpretation being even remotely on the same page, though. James Blakney wanted Winter Blackstone with a desperation that was clear as day to anyone with two functioning eyeballs. Well, everyone except for Caleb, that is. He didn’t see it, and brushed their relationship off as very close, lifelong friends. I just nodded my head and rolled my eyes at his explanation. It wasn’t our business anyway. Winter and James were the only ones who needed to be concerned about the status of their friendship.
Caleb’s other sister Willow and her fiancé, Roger, were in another corner, conversing with Judge Blakney and his wife—James and Victoria’s father and mother. Everyone was, indeed, connected somehow, just as Caleb had told me. The Blakneys were an odd coupling as well, just as I felt Victoria’s was with Clay Whitcomb. When I’d met the judge and his wife earlier in the evening, I’d been hit with the most powerful sense of déjà vu, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Something was very wrong there. I knew it down deep in my bones that Judge Blakney was a cruel man, and that Mrs. Blakney was trapped on the receiving end of his cruelty. I knew it—because she looked exactly like me when I’d been with Marcus. I very much wished there was something I could do to help her.
It was déjà vu all over again, as Mr. Yogi Berra had so eloquently coined the phrase.
When Caleb didn’t return with my water, I decided to go search out some on my own. The pounding in my head was only getting worse, and I really needed to take something quickly.
It wasn’t like him to forget about me.
And then I discovered the reason.
Janice Thorndike had arrived.
Although, this Janice Thorndike didn’t resemble the many pictures I’d seen of her. She definitely wasn’t the stunning, svelte, cover-worthy model I knew her to be. Her face was stretched in an ugly sneer, her dark-auburn hair spilling wildly over her thin, pale shoulders. In a word, she looked enraged. Caleb’s stance looked angry from behind, if I had to describe how he appeared as I approached where they argued in a corner alongside the bar. He had his back to me, but Janice didn’t. She trained her eyes on me with all of the poisonous venom of a cobra ready to strike its prey. My only thought was to get Caleb away from her because she looked downright fucking dangerous.
“I know what you did, you scheming bitch. James told me about the fucking condoms you poked holes into,” I heard Caleb say to her. “Do you really think it would matter to me, if she became pregnant as a result of your twisted games, Janice?”
She grinned evilly in my direction, knowing I was watching and listening.
“I’d fucking rejoice if it were true, because I love her, and I’m marrying her.”
“Don’t lie, Caleb. You’re not marrying anybody other than me.”
“Caleb?” I gasped out his name, needing to understand why exactly they were talking about damaged condoms and possibly pregnancy.
A wave of ice-cold fear settled over me instantly.
Again, the reminiscent feeling of déjà vu filled my head.
My body’s recent slew of ailments and pains no longer mystified and confused me. They all made sense to me now. I’d never taken birth control pills before, so I’d chalked my symptoms up to starting on them. A new medication for me, one that essentially produced the same hormones as when a woman was pregnant.
But I have been pregnant before.
I knew what pregnancy felt like. And I understood that my new birth control pills wouldn’t have done a thing for me if I’d already been pregnant when I started on them. If Janice had damaged the condoms Caleb and I used the first few times we were together, then . . . it was possible.