But then, one day in 2016, everything changed. It was late March, the city still chilly but alive with the promise of spring—fat red buds sprouting on the branches of maple trees, the friendly sight of daffodils. Liz and I were splitting a bottle of wine after a particularly challenging Pilates session with Erin.
“Thank God Lent ended last weekend,” she said, ordering an overpriced bottle of Sancerre. “I gave up booze this year.”
“Oh, wow.” I drummed my fingers on the stained wood surface of the table, excited for the wine. “Are you religious?”
“Meh. My grandmother is super Catholic. She always asks what I’m giving up for Lent, and I feel guilty lying. She’s, like, ninety-three, but calls me more than either of my parents.” The waitress poured us two large glasses and placed the bottle in the cooler on our table. Liz snatched hers up. “But I really need this drink, after the week I’ve had.”
“Work issues?” I pinched the stem of my glass and took a generous sip.
“Nah. Work is fine.” She pursed her lips as if considering something important. She seemed in a chattier mood than usual. “You’ll find this interesting, actually, seeing how obsessed you are with Jake Danner.”
My ears perked up. “I’m not obsessed with Jake Danner,” I said, perhaps too defensively.
“Then why are you constantly asking about him and my friend Molly?” The corners of Liz’s mouth twitched—a small, knowing smile. She flicked her wrist. “Anyway, I have a juicy piece of gossip that I’m not even supposed to know, but it’s too outrageous not to share with someone. So it’s your lucky day.”
I took another sip of wine, every cell in my body brimming with anticipation.
Liz dug her elbows into the table, leaning forward. “So a few months ago—I guess it was New Year’s Day, actually—Molly showed up at my apartment. She seemed upset, she’d been fighting with Jake, and she wanted to talk. But we got into this really awkward argument—she laid into me about my relationship with Zander and was just acting totally bizarre—and then she stormed out. And we haven’t talked since.”
“Really? That’s weird.”
“Right? So anyway, I kept asking our other friends what the hell was going on with Molly—like, was she even okay, I legit hadn’t heard from her at all—and no one would give me a straight answer. And then finally, two nights ago, my friend Everly came over for dinner, and we were drinking, and I wrangled it out of her.” Liz drew in a breath. “Turns out, Molly is pregnant.”
I nearly spat out the Sancerre. “Oh my god.”
“No, Caitlin, it gets even more insane. Are you ready for this?” Liz rested her hands on the table, her dark eyes growing wide. “Jake isn’t the father.”
The room froze. My mind spun rapidly, a tornado gathering speed. It took me several seconds to process her words, several more to speak. “What?”
“That’s right.” Liz tipped the rest of the wine in her glass down her throat. “She and Jake broke up, apparently—I had no idea. I guess she dumped him when he got back from his big tour in Europe a few weeks ago. He’d been gone for months. And this other guy, the dude who knocked her up? Hunter something. Molly is with him now.”
“Holy shit. So wait—she was cheating on Jake?”
“Yup.” Liz plucked the bottle of Sancerre from the wine cooler and refilled our glasses. A little sloshed over the rim of hers, dribbling down the outside of the bowl. “All those months Jake was away, and she never even told him there was someone else.”
“Oh my god. So Jake doesn’t even know about this other guy?”
“I doubt it.” Liz cocked her head in thought. “From what I gather, Molly doesn’t plan on telling him. He definitely doesn’t know she got pregnant. Everly swore me to secrecy, so even though part of me would love to throw Molly under the bus, I can’t betray Ev. Plus, it’s not like I actually want to get in the middle of that drama. I’m just pissed at Molly for being so judgmental about my relationship one minute, and then the next, being so sketchy and MIA and not even telling me what was going on with hers.” A wounded expression darkened Liz’s face, and I could tell that despite her tipsy bravado, she was genuinely hurting.
“I’m sorry. I’d be pissed, too.” I nodded empathetically. “What was your fight about? Something to do with Zander, you said?”