“So you’re not marrying for love?”
“Of course I’m marrying for love! It’s just that love wasn’t exactly at the top of my list. It was just below ‘Must have six-figure salary,’” said Bridget with a giggle. “But don’t get me wrong, Sasha. Love is important. And I hope that you find it someday, or it finds you.”
“Well, I’m not exactly looking,” said Sasha.
“That’s okay. Sometimes love finds you anyway. Especially when you’re not looking,” Bridget said. “Just make sure when it finds you it comes with a nice 401(k).”
“You’re a mess!” Sasha exclaimed and laughed.
“I know, but you love me anyway.”
“I do love you, sis, but your view of life is pretty twisted. Derrick had better make sure he has a prenup in place,” teased Sasha. “Have him give me a call and I’ll draw up the papers for him. There are still a few hours before the wedding.”
“He’s already had one drawn up,” Bridget said candidly.
“Really?” Sasha asked, rising in her chair to give her sister a closer look. “How did you feel about that?”
“It’s okay. I mean, he’s not going anywhere and neither am I. Besides, our future is already secured.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sasha asked.
Bridget laid a gentle hand on her stomach, and smiled.
“You’re pregnant!” Sasha exclaimed.
“Shh. Keep it down,” Bridget whispered. “I don’t want anyone knowing before it’s time. Except you, Sasha. I can trust you.”
“How far along?”
“About seven weeks.”
“You haven’t told Derrick yet?”
“He can’t know before the wedding,” said Bridget.
Sasha gave her sister a sideways look.
“Don’t look at me like that, Sasha. It’s complicated,” Bridget whispered. “He’s got this...this plan. It’s so stupid. He says he doesn’t want children until two years after we’re married.”
“Then why didn’t you respect his wishes?”
“Who can live with that kind of pressure? Two years is a long time, and I’m not getting any younger. I hate clichés, but my biological clock is ticking. And I know that once this baby comes and he lays eyes on it, he’ll change his mind.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
“You’re not trying to...you know...replace the other baby, are you?”
Bridget dropped her head, didn’t want to respond.
“One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“That was so long ago, Sasha. I was a kid. And I’d managed to forget all about it until now. Thank you very much.”
Bridget’s abortion wasn’t something that could easily be forgotten. Sasha remembered how well her sister had hidden the pregnancy. But it wasn’t long before Charlotte Winters caught wind of it. And when she did, there was no conversation about it—abortion was inevitable. Keeping it was never an option for Bridget. Their mother had worked too hard to build a perfect image for her daughters. A teen pregnancy would’ve tarnished that image beyond repair, and Charlotte Winters wasn’t having that.
Sasha remembered the tragedy as if she’d had the abortion instead of Bridget. She remembered the dull gray walls at the abortion clinic, and the Hispanic lady who handed them a ton of papers to sign. She remembered the pain in her sister’s eyes and the deep sadness on her face. She’d also remembered the grueling whimpers as Bridget cried herself to sleep that night. It was the saddest time in both their lives, and for that she blamed their mother. Their father would never have allowed such a thing to go on. They weren’t allowed to breathe a word of it to their father, or anyone else, for that matter. Sasha thought it to be a horrible secret for young girls to be forced to keep, but she had no choice. They simply did as they were told. In fact, they never even talked about it again between themselves—until now.
Sasha recognized her sister’s need to replace the unborn child she’d once lost, but she was going about it all wrong. Derrick had put up with a lot of things in their past. She just hoped their relationship could survive this one.
Chapter 3
Sasha nursed a glass of rum punch while listening to the sounds of Flo Rida. She stood against the wall and watched as a very muscular Bahamian man danced his way into the hearts of the women in the room. He grinned as they screamed and placed dollar bills into the elastic of his bright red briefs. By the end of the song, Dexter, the male dancer enlisted by the bridal party, was sitting on Bridget’s lap. With one hand covering her eyes, she spanked his behind lightly with the other hand. The women in the room cheered as Dexter swiveled his hips and teased Bridget. She was embarrassed but managed to laugh through it.
Sasha laughed at her sister but secretly wished for a moment that she could slip out of the room and catch some fresh air. She’d been pinned up with these women since heading for the spa earlier in the day. They’d gone to Paradise Island and been pampered with massages, manicures, pedicures and fresh hairdos. Sasha’s freshly shampooed hair had blown in the wind as they’d visited every boutique and retail shop on Bay Street. They’d grabbed a bite to eat at one of the local Caribbean grills and then rushed back to the resort for a quick change of clothes before preparing for the beachside rehearsal dinner.
At the rehearsal dinner, the tables had been arranged along the sand and adorned with white tablecloths, white tea light candles and seashells in square vases that were gathered as centerpieces. The scent from the fresh plumeria flowers danced in the wind. The rehearsal dinner had been planned just before sunset, and the reflection of the beautiful colors was illuminated against the water. As contemporary jazz played and waves crashed against the shore, Sasha glanced across the table at Vince. He wore a white linen shirt with shorts to match. Holding a glass of wine in his hand, he chitchatted with the other groomsmen. He caught her watching and she quickly turned away, pretending to say something to her mother, who had been seated right next to her.
“They did a good job with the decorations,” she said.
“Everything is just so beautiful.” Her mother smiled.
“Yes, it is.” She glanced at Vince again, and he raised his glass to her. She gave him a soft smile.
“I’m glad that you’re finally taking a much-needed vacation, Sasha. You work too hard.”
Here it comes, Sasha thought. Conversations with her mother were always strained. They always turned to Sasha’s career and how she worked too hard or how she made bad decisions in her personal life. Sasha wished her mother would be proud of her accomplishments, but instead she diminished them. Sasha wanted so badly for her mother to be proud of her.
“I enjoy my job, Mother.”
Charlotte Winters looked for something else to complain about. “What is this I hear about you leaving after the wedding?”
“My office is having a retreat in Savannah. I need to be there.”
“Your sister is getting married. You need to be here.”
“I am here, Mother.”
“I mean for the entire event. Not just the