Lauren wasn’t there yet—no shock, as she’d perfected the art of late entrances. I checked my phone for Ryan’s messages—nothing. “Ryan’s running late,” I explained, sitting down. “Work stuff.” Dad nodded. “That’s what happens when you’re climbing the corporate ladder. Ryan’s a hard worker.” The waiter took our drink orders; I stuck with water, waiting for Ryan for the first toast. Mom urged, “Have some wine, dear. It’s your birthday.” Before I could reply, a stir at the entrance announced Lauren’s arrival. Her laugh echoed as she tossed her auburn hair, her tight scarlet dress turning heads. But what stopped my heart was Ryan walking in with her, his hand grazing her back as they wove through tables, their smiles too intimate for mere in-laws.
“Sorry we’re late!” Lauren chirped, kissing my cheek with precision. “I ran into Ryan in the parking lot. Lucky, right?” Ryan avoided my gaze, taking the seat beside me and squeezing my shoulder. “Happy birthday, Em. Sorry for the delay.” His fresh cologne was too strong, his “work call” excuse flimsier by the second. “No worries,” I said evenly. “Glad you’re both here.” We ordered food, my parents steering the conversation to their recent Alaskan cruise and neighborhood gossip. Lauren interjected with tales of her latest sales coup or celebrity encounters. Ryan was quiet, speaking only when prompted. I placed my hand on his knee under the table, seeking connection. He flinched before covering my hand, his palm sweaty. “Everything okay?” I whispered as Dad rambled about golf. “Fine,” he said too fast. “Just tired.”
The gifts came next: a generic gift card from my parents, diamond stud earrings from Ryan—pricey but impersonal—and a teal scarf from Lauren that screamed regift. “It’s totally your color,” she insisted, though I’d never wear that shade. The waiter brought my requested salted caramel cheesecake. As Dad raised his glass for a toast, Lauren shifted excitedly, exchanging looks with Ryan. My gut clenched. “Actually,” Lauren cut in before we sang, “I have an announcement to make, perfect for Em’s birthday.” She stood, smoothing her dress over her stomach. “I wasn’t going to share yet, but since we’re all here… I’m pregnant.”
The silence was deafening. Mom gasped with delight; Dad grinned wider than he ever had for me. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Mom gushed. “When are you due?” “Ten weeks along,” Lauren replied, hand on her belly. “But there’s more.” She paused, her eyes locking on mine with smug triumph. “Ryan’s the father. We’ve been together for months. We’re going to be a family.”
The restaurant hummed around us, but our table froze. Dad’s glass hovered midair; Mom’s smile crumpled. Ryan stared at the table, pale as a ghost. “This wasn’t how we planned to tell you,” he mumbled. “We?” I echoed, my voice steady despite the chaos inside. Lauren placed her hand over Ryan’s. “We wanted to wait past the first trimester, but I couldn’t hold it in. We’re a family now, Em.” The cruelty of her timing—my birthday, my favorite restaurant, in front of our parents—was staggering. This wasn’t a mistake; it was a calculated strike.
Mom spoke first. “I don’t understand. Ryan’s Emily’s husband.” “Not for long,” Lauren said with a wave. “They’ve been struggling forever. Ryan and I didn’t plan this, but real love doesn’t wait.” “Real love,” I repeated, as if our seven years were fake. “Em, I’m sorry,” Ryan said, finally meeting my eyes, his face a mix of guilt and relief. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.” “When did it start?” I asked, my voice calm. “Does it matter?” Ryan shifted. “It began at your Christmas party,” Lauren cut in, relishing her role. “Remember when we both vanished? You thought Ryan was helping me find my earring.” Her laugh grated like nails on a chalkboard. Six months of lies, while I planned anniversary surprises, crystallized into a betrayal I should’ve seen.
Dad spoke slowly. “This is best discussed privately.” But Lauren wasn’t done. “No need for privacy, Dad. We’re family. Soon there’ll be another Carter!” Mom’s eyes softened. “A grandchild… the circumstances are odd, but a baby’s a blessing.” I watched her reframe this disaster as a happy event, as she always did for Lauren. “Em, can we talk privately?” Ryan pleaded. I looked at his hand on my arm, once so comforting, now alien. “I need the restroom,” I said, standing abruptly, my chair scraping. No one stopped me as I walked away, my legs moving on autopilot.