Recipes were invented for a reason: to ensure that the correct ingredients, in the right proportions, are mixed in the appropriate order to achieve the expected result efficiently and without unpleasant surprises.
By following a recipe, one can transform a list of raw elements into something moderately delicious. But if, for some reason, someone skips a step, or changes the order, or decides to improvise on the fly without ever having done it before, chaos is almost inevitable.
It's known that you can't fry something without first heating the oil, just like you can't expect a soufflé to rise if the egg whites aren't beaten properly. Decorating a cake before baking the layers would be absurd, and putting a turkey in the oven without stuffing it first wouldn't just be a culinary mistake, but also a promise of incomplete flavors.
Recipes exist to protect people from disaster and to ensure that the final result is something worthy of serving. The problem was that Addison had never been good at following recipes, neither in the kitchen nor in life.
What happens when you don't even have a clear idea of what the ingredients are? How do you handle this type of situation, when all the parties involved could get burned at the first contact with the truth? There was no step-by-step guide for properly announcing a pregnancy resulting from infidelity. It wasn't a recipe, and it had nothing to do with food.
Perhaps Addison related it to food because she hadn't had breakfast that morning. As she walked down the hall of the medical board's headquarters to give her testimony about the case of Violet and Katie Kent, she felt nauseous from not having eaten anything... but how was she supposed to eat something when she felt sick? Stupid nausea. It made no sense. It never went away, even with medication... oh. Damn. The nausea pills. She had forgotten to take her medication for nausea before leaving her house and was now paying the consequences.
But she had no space in her mind for anything other than the discussion from the previous night. Her plans hadn't gone as she expected, and that stressed her out. Naomi shouldn't have found out about the pregnancy before Sam. Let alone before Derek. She should have been the last on her list of uncomfortable conversations, and now... she didn't know what would happen.
All night, she had been tossing and turning in bed, with the pillow against her face, trying to quiet her mind, but every time she closed her eyes, the same questions haunted her. What would Naomi do? Was she really threatening her or just wanting to see her suffer a bit? Did she want to put pressure on her? What if, in an impulsive or vengeful act, she told Sam everything?
Or worse... what if Naomi told Derek too? What if Sam told Derek?
In her prototype recipe, aka execution plan, aka way to communicate the unexpected pregnancy, there should be a gap of at least two or three days between announcements, to emotionally recover from the reactions of both men. What would she do if they both found out at the same time, thanks to Naomi?
The mere thought of imagining their faces made her stomach churn. God, she really should have eaten something before leaving. The green juice was completely ruled out as an option, coffee wasn't recommended during pregnancy, ginger tea was boring, and milk was too heavy. The fruit didn't seem tempting at all, the toast was bland, and the pancakes Amelia was making didn't look very trustworthy. Thinking about scrambled eggs with bacon made her nauseous, and the yogurt with granola had tired her out.
"Are you ready, doctor?" a male voice asked, pulling her back to reality quickly. Right. The summons. She had to focus on that now, even though her head was elsewhere.
Addison lifted her head and tried to force a smile, although her face betrayed her discomfort.
"I'm ready."
Lie. She wasn't ready for anything. Neither to answer questions nor for the chaos that was probably already unfolding thanks to Naomi. Clumsily, she walked into Neil Chaplin's office, the medical investigator in charge of the case, and sat down in front of him.
"Okay, we're recording. So, Dr. Forbes Montgomery, did you treat Ms. Kent?" Chaplin asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"Were you at all concerned about how she was responding? Specifically, do you feel like Ms. Kent was getting better or worse?"
"After she miscarried, I needed to perform an emergency D/C," she responded, trying to maintain a professional tone, even though her voice trembled.
"Did you do it immediately?"
"No, not immediately."
"Why not?" he questioned.
Addison paused to take a deep breath, the air in the office felt stifling.
"Please answer the question," the man insisted.
"Violet, uh... Dr. Turner felt it was important that Katie fully comprehend the loss of her baby before the procedure."
"And what happened as a result of the delay?"
Addison took another deep breath, struggling against her stomach which was tightening even more.
"Katie went into septic shock. But she came through just fine," she said, the answer slipping from her lips with difficulty.
"And you believe it was medically appropriate to have waited?"
"Yes, Katie was... I... um," she could feel the cold sweat dripping down her forehead, which was making her even more anxious. "Violet calmed her down, and then I performed the dilation and curettage."
"And how did Dr. Turner calm her down?"
"She related the experiences of her own pregnancy. It was a way of bonding, and it worked."
"And how exactly do you know what was said during Katie's therapy session with Dr. Turner?" he asked, a shadow of doubt in his voice.
"Uh… I don't know specifics, but our practice is cooperative."
"Doctors often discuss their cases with each other. Including matters not relevant to their specific areas of responsibility to those patients? Is that really the ethic of your practice?"
"Well, now you're making us sound like gossips."
"Then let me clarify my question. Does Dr. Turner ever share the personal details of her patients with you?"
Addison bit her lower lip in obvious nervousness. Her hands were shaking, her breath was becoming more and more ragged, and the beads of cold sweat continued to slide down her forehead. By her body language, anyone would have thought she was lying.
"Answer the question, Dr. Montgomery."
"Um... when my specialty is involved in the patient and I can be of assistance, I... we... I suppose... umm... I'm sorry. Is this confidential? I mean... is this recording just between us?"
"No. Recorded statements become part of the court file and can be accessed by the parties involved in the case. Complainant, accused, lawyers, and relevant authorities."
"Oh..."
"In certain cases, they may be used as evidence in a public trial, making them accessible to third parties present in the courtroom."
"I'm sorry, I have to leave."
"If you leave the summons without a justified reason, you could face penalties, like a forced appearance order that could jeopardize your standing in the case, as well as that of your colleague."
Addison shook her head. Of course, she knew there would be consequences, and she was worried about that, but she needed to leave.
"Will you answer the question, Dr. Montgomery?" The man raised an eyebrow impatiently.
"I don't want to be rude, and I'm embarrassed to leave the session like this. But I'm going through the first trimester of pregnancy, and neither you nor I want me to vomit here. I'm sorry," her voice cracked at the end, and without waiting for a reply, she stood up abruptly and left the office almost running.
~•~
There is a popular belief that pets, especially cats, have a sixth sense that allows them to perceive emotional changes in their humans, particularly during pregnancy. And while Addison had never been particularly spiritual or credulous about things that lacked scientific justification, she couldn't deny that Milo seemed to know something that even she couldn't quite grasp.
He had always been a loving cat towards her, even though she hadn't been his owner from the start. From the first day he arrived at her home, a nervous bundle of fur hiding under the couch, he managed to show her his affection in unexpected ways. He would purr in her lap while she read in the yard, nudge her gently when she returned from work, and sleep at the edge of her bed as if guarding her dreams.
But ever since she became pregnant, Milo's behavior had changed. He was no longer just a quiet companion; he seemed to have taken on a new role in her life: protector, guardian, and the only being in the world who appeared to understand her without judging her.
In recent days, he had become her shadow. He followed her from room to room, almost stepping on her heels, as if he were her little escort. If she sat on the couch, he would leap gracefully onto her lap or, lately, onto her belly. He would massage Addison's stomach with his little paws and look at her with those deep eyes, as if trying to tell her that he knew her little secret.
If she cried—which had happened more than once lately—he simply purred louder and pressed his little head against her chest. He seemed to have an innate ability to calm her, a kind of comfort that needed no explanations or words.
That day, when Addison came home after the disaster of the interview with the medical investigator, Milo was the first to greet her. He was sitting by the door as if he had been waiting for her return. She dropped her bag to the floor with a long, tired sigh, and the cat immediately got up, rubbing against her legs before jumping up to the kitchen counter to stare at her.
"Hello, buddy. You had a rough morning too, huh?" she murmured, kicking off her shoes and gently petting his head.
Milo purred in response, and she couldn't help but smile slightly. That was one of the things she liked most about him: his presence demanded nothing. He asked no questions, expected no explanations. He was simply there.
Addison canceled all her appointments for the day. She wasn't going to pretend she was in any shape to care for her patients; she could barely take care of herself. She had lost so many hours of sleep in recent days that her body seemed to be demanding an immediate respite. She didn't want to talk to anyone, hear advice, or face more problems. All she wanted was to sleep and stop overthinking.
After a quick shower, she collapsed onto her bed, her hair still damp and her head spinning. Almost instantly, Milo appeared, leaping agilely onto the mattress and approaching her carefully. He settled beside her, pressed against her side, but then seemed to change his mind and climbed directly onto her belly.
"The baby is okay..." she said, yawning, her eyes nearly closing, "we're okay..."
Milo purred loudly, closing his eyes as she stroked him. The weight of his body was surprisingly comforting. She let out a deep sigh and felt her muscles, tense for days, begin to relax until she fell into a deep sleep.
~•~
Late in the afternoon, the sharp sound of her phone pierced the silence, abruptly pulling her out of the restful sleep she so desperately needed.
Addison lifted a heavy hand, groping for the device on her nightstand, and brought it to her face. Squinting, she saw Sam's name on the screen. Damn it. Why was he calling her?
"Hello…?" she answered, her voice rough and still tinged with sleep.
"Where are you?" he snapped, not even bothering with a greeting. His tone was sharp, almost accusatory.
"Why? What's going on?"
"Staff meeting at the practice. Thirty minutes," he replied as if it were obvious she should have known.
"Do I really need to be there?" she complained, her irritation clear.
"It's important," he replied impatiently. There was a brief pause before he shot another question. "Are you in surgery? With a patient?"
"No."
"Then where have you been all day?"
His tone made her tense up. Why was he so irritated?
"What's wrong, Sam? What do you need?"
"It's about Violet. It involves you. Can you come, Addison?" His frustration was palpable, and the way he said it felt less like a question and more like a thinly veiled command.
She let herself fall back against the pillow, exhaling sharply.
"I'll be there," she said, resigned, though her tone made it clear she wasn't happy about it.
She hung up before he could say anything else, and she threw the phone aside. Milo, who had been comfortably curled up next to her, lifted his head, his curious eyes watching as Addison muttered a curse under her breath. She carefully moved him off her lap and sat up.
Her body felt as heavy as her mood, but she knew she didn't have a choice. Moving sluggishly, she quickly changed, still cursing Sam for ruining her one moment of peace in days.
When she arrived at the practice, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with tension. The meeting room was full, and while everyone seemed to show varying levels of concern or annoyance, what struck Addison most was that Naomi was sitting next to Sam.
"Hey," Addison said, offering a general greeting to the group. No one responded. Naomi didn't even look at her.
Sam's eyes were fixed on her, cold and serious, his jaw clenched as if he were holding something back. He didn't say a word. The knot in Addison's chest tightened even more. She tried not to overthink it, but her mind raced. Of course, Naomi told him. Of course she did. The way he was looking at her… That call, that tone…
Addison sat in the nearest empty chair, suddenly feeling like an outsider in a room where she once felt part of the team. Perfect. This was going to be torture.
"We cannot let them walk all over Violet," Pete finally broke the silence.
"Well, they're already standing on her neck, and they seem hell-bent on making the rest of us lay down, too," Addison murmured.
"That's why we need to mitigate the damages," Sam said.
"Mitigate?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Well, maybe if Violet were to take a voluntary leave of absence until the investigation is complete…" Naomi suggested.
"That's your idea of doing something?" Cooper questioned.
"Sorry I'm late," Sheldon appeared at the meeting room door, drawing everyone's attention. "Where's Violet?"
"We asked her not to come," Sam said.
"Is that fair?"
"Fair isn't our biggest concern right now. Maybe if we show we're cooperating…" Addison started to say.
"No, it's not fair, and we are cooperating," Pete snapped, clearly irritated with her.
"If Violet steps back, it makes it look like she knows that she did something wrong," Amelia added.
"Or it makes it look like she's taking it seriously," Naomi insisted.
"Our primary concern right now has to be protecting the practice," Addison said. "I mean, they're copying our files, they're dragging us down for interviews. This investigation is only gonna get bigger."
"Let them see whatever they want to see," Amelia laughed sarcastically. "We're not an organized crime family. We're doctors."
"No offense, but how long have you been here, like a week?" Sam shot back, making Amelia turn to him, visibly angry.
"Seriously, what is your problem with me, dude?" she snapped.
"Amelia…" Addison murmured, while Naomi rolled her eyes.
"No, seriously. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face. I've been putting up with your bad attitude, your shitty comments, and your sarcasm for days. Is it about Addison? Does it bother you that I'm living with her? Because let me tell you something, she's the one who offered me a place to stay. And the only way I'll leave is if she asks me to."
"Okay, there's a bigger issue right now, don't you think? Grow up," Sam replied with disdain.
"She's not supposed to take offense to that?" Charlotte interjected, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
"Look, listen, we all talk about our patients, not just Violet," Naomi said.
"Exactly. That's why we don't want the medical board investigating anyone else, so…" Addison tried to support her friend's point, but Naomi cut her off.
"If you were investigated, it must have been for a reason…"
"Okay, Naomi, are you implying I did something wrong?"
"I don't know. Did you? Is everything Addison Montgomery does correct?"
"I performed the correct procedure! I performed a D/C to prevent her from dying of septic shock!" Addison interrupted. "But, of course, since you refused to learn how to perform it, you have no idea what it involves…"
"This doesn't feel right!" Pete snapped, cutting off the second confrontation of the afternoon.
"One of our own is being attacked. We need to support her," Cooper said angrily.
"Isn't that what this place is supposed to be about?" Sheldon turned to him.
"The only people Violet tries to help more than her patients are all of us, and if we can't..." Pete stood up, visibly indignant. "If this is all it takes for us to turn our back on her, then I..."
He stormed out of the meeting, leaving an awkward silence in his wake. Sam stood up as well and left, leaving Addison even more confused than she had been at the start.
~•~
The meeting had sucked. Everyone agreed on that.
However, when it was over, each one went home to prepare for Charlotte and Cooper's rehearsal dinner, which would be held that very night at Addison's place. Because despite everything, it was still a special moment for their friends. And everyone was going to attend, regardless of the situation with the practice.
"The one maid of honor duty Charlotte gave me, and nobody is having a good time," Amelia said as she approached Addison in the yard once the dinner began.
"Yeah, well, the meeting this afternoon didn't exactly leave people in a festive mood. I'm telling you, if the party wasn't at my house, I wouldn't be here," she complained, resting a hand on the upper part of her stomach.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she lied. Of course, she didn't feel okay; not even the strongest anti-nausea medication could calm the storm inside her after that meeting. After that cold, accusing look from Sam.
"What are you drinking? Is that champagne?" Amelia asked, pointing at her glass with curiosity.
"I wish. It's this stupid ginger ale. I hate being completely sober right now. I envy everyone who can have a glass of wine. I'm not asking for much, just a glass. A sip. But I can't even have that."
"Well, neither can I," Amelia said with a wry smile, shrugging gracefully. "You know, alcohol and drug problems. I think you know that story."
Addison managed a small smile with her lips pressed tight.
"What happened with Naomi yesterday?" Amelia asked, looking distantly as Naomi and Fife conversed in the living room. She was surprised Naomi came to the party after the argument with her sister-in-law.
"She hates me."
"Does she?" Amelia grimaced, frowning.
"Worse. She threatened to tell Sam."
"And do you think she'd actually do it?"
"I don't know. I hope if she still has some care and respect for me, she won't. But I don't know if she has already done it or not… I haven't talked to him."
"When are you gonna tell him? It's been two weeks. Your idiot boyfriend thinks it's my fault you're acting so… weird. He's getting suspicious, Addison."
Addison took a sip of her ginger ale.
"I know, but I wanna wait until after the wedding. I don't want to ruin the moment for Charlotte and Cooper."
"Oh, believe me. It wouldn't be you who ruins the moment for them…" she murmured, watching as Pete walked towards them with a serious expression.
"Hey," he said.
Amelia waved goodbye and went inside to leave them to talk alone.
"Where's Violet?" Addison asked somewhat anxiously.
"She didn't want to come. And I don't really blame her. Look, I get, of course, you didn't want to lie for Violet, but the way you were talking in that meeting…"
"Pete, it wasn't personal."
"Yeah, exactly. It was so… cold and emotionless."
Addison took a deep breath, filled with frustration and annoyance. "But she wrote the book, okay? And whether you want to believe it or not, now we have a really serious situation on our hands, which isn't gonna go away."
"And then what? You just want to abandon Violet?"
"No, of course not, but... Look, if that's what you want to believe… look, if everybody in this damn practice wants to be mad at me, fine. I am still gonna do what I think is right."
Pete let out a sarcastic laugh.
"You didn't even bother to testify," he replied.
"Excuse me? I went to testify this morning!"
"Violet's lawyer told us you left the interview before it ended. You refused to answer some questions and to top it off, you implied that the practice is a gossip mill."
"No, that's not how it was. I had to leave early due to an emergency. We can schedule another interview and… I didn't do it on purpose, Pete!" her voice started to crack, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Damn sensitivity. Damn hormones! She wasn't supposed to cry in front of Pete.
"You know, Addison. I think it would be best if you stayed quiet. You've said enough," he said, turning away and walking off from her.
~•~
Patients with Addison often came into her office with bright, excited eyes and euphoric voices, as if they had just discovered a secret they couldn't keep to themselves. "My belly appeared out of nowhere, Dr. Montgomery!" they would say with a mix of surprise and pride, lifting their shirts to show her the proof.
She always smiled patiently, trying not to spoil their excitement, and explained that most of the time, that swollen belly wasn't exactly a baby but a combination of more mundane factors happening in the first trimester: fluid retention, slower intestines due to progesterone, or the natural inflammation of an expanding uterus. But that morning, she understood exactly what they meant.
When she walked in front of the mirror in her bedroom, still half-asleep, she took off her pajama top and stood frozen in front of her reflection. What she saw made her blink several times as if her brain needed to process what her eyes were showing her. There it was. At exactly eleven weeks, the most evident sign of her pregnancy had suddenly appeared: a curve. Small, subtle, but real.
The lower part of her belly, just below her navel, looked a little rounder. Maybe not enough to be obvious at first glance, but for her, who had always had a relatively flat abdomen, the difference was striking.
Addison placed a hand on her belly, first cautiously, as if touching it might make it disappear. Her palm rested gently on the warm, taut skin, feeling a firmness that hadn't been there the day before. This wasn't the usual softness that came with bloating or overeating. This was a new sensation.
"Where have you been hiding all this time?" she murmured with a smile of pride on her face.
She was surprised and excited, but remembering that she needed to change for Charlotte and Cooper's wedding, the discomfort soon set in.
During the early months of pregnancy, there was a thin line between a budding belly and simple weight gain. And now, she found herself right on that line, in that confusing phase where her body seemed to play with ambiguities. She knew that if someone else looked at her, they might think she had just gained a few grams and nothing more.
She could imagine her colleagues looking at her out of the corner of their eyes, silently speculating or murmuring among themselves. "Did she gain weight?" some might think. "Do you feel okay? You look different," others would say.
Addison knew that at this point, people didn't see a pregnant woman. They saw someone who had gained weight. That was the problem with this stage of pregnancy, that uncomfortable in-between phase where she wasn't officially a visibly pregnant woman with a round belly, but she also wasn't the person she used to be.
She was in limbo. And that limbo unsettled her. And the fact that the skirt she had bought weeks earlier for the occasion wouldn't completely close troubled her. Going to social events in her state made her anxious.
"Addie, what's wrong? Are you ready?" Amelia's voice broke into her thoughts, shattering the bubble of anxiety she had created around herself. "I have to be there earlier to welcome people, and... why aren't you dressed yet?"
"Are you seeing the same thing I'm seeing?" Addison asked, completely ignoring what her sister-in-law had said.
"Oh, shit, the baby is huge!" Amelia exclaimed, moving closer to her with excitement.
"Yes, and my skirt won't close. How the hell am I gonna hide this? It's sabotaging me."
"It's not sabotaging you; it's growing. It's something babies tend to do, you know... God, it wasn't like this yesterday," she smiled, arching a hand over the bump of Addison's abdomen.
Addison sighed in frustration, feeling her eyes beginning to water.
"My skirt won't close..." she repeated, now with a voice choked by distress. Her lips curved into a small pout as she saw the slider of her zipper stuck halfway, unable to reach the top.
"Okay, put on something else. You have eight hundred different dresses," Amelia said as she walked toward the wardrobe.
"They're all going to notice," Addison murmured, not taking her eyes off her reflection in the mirror.
"They won't notice, Addie. It's still a very small bump. They might think you've gained a little weight or that you're bloated, but..."
"They're going to think I'm fat!" she exclaimed, on the verge of tears.
"You know what? Let's look for a loose dress, okay? One that won't hug your belly," Amelia opted for a distraction strategy. She began rummaging through the hangers for something that could relieve the pressure Addison was feeling. "What do you think of this?" she asked, pulling out a black dress.
"It's a daytime wedding; that dress is for the evening."
"What about this one?" she said, holding out a white dress with red flowers.
"It's meant for the beach."
"Okay, and this green one?"
Addison shook her head.
"What about a suit?"
"I don't know; it would be weird. I never wear suits. People will suspect I'm hiding something under the blazer."
"Addison, seriously, I can't waste any more time. I'm the maid of honor. Just put on anything; no one will notice."
Addison nodded and wiped her tears with her hands. She walked over to the wardrobe and took a deep indigo dress with a plunging neckline and a gather at the waist, where the fabric concealed her belly just enough to go unnoticed.
"Woah, with those two wild girls pushing against the fabric, no one will look at anything else," Amelia laughed, glancing indiscreetly at her sister-in-law's neckline once she was dressed.
"Okay, that doesn't make me feel calmer. Are they too big? Should I cover up?" she asked, frowning as she adjusted one of the straps of the dress.
"Of course not. Look, if I had that pair, I would go through life with nothing on. They look round and firm. They're like two perfectly inflated helium balloons."
"Enough."
"You're hot, Addie. You look radiant."
Addison bit her lower lip uncomfortably. She knew Amelia wanted to make her feel better, but she hated being lied to. Yes, of course, she had noticed her breasts had grown, but hot and radiant were not words that applied to the woman staring back at her in the mirror.
She scrutinized her reflection: her gaunt face, deep dark circles like persistent shadows from fatigue and lack of sleep, the redness of her eyes and nose from her recent crying, and those tiny petechiae around her cheeks and eyelids—tiny red dots on her skin that betrayed the rupture of her capillaries from the effort of vomiting practically every day.
No. She didn't feel attractive at all.
"Maybe I shouldn't go. No one will notice I'm gone anyway. You know, everyone hates me right now..."
Amelia sighed, her expression softening. She stepped forward and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at her.
"Addison, nobody hates you. The problems at work are work problems after all. They don't have to affect our personal lives, our friendships, and our celebration days. Do you understand? Two of our friends are getting married. And we're going to be there, supporting them, accompanying them at this moment. Okay? You look radiant in that dress."
"Stop lying to me!"
"I'm not lying," she held her gaze firmly, tightening her grip a little more on Addison's shoulders. "Because radiant doesn't mean being perfect. It means that the light comes from you, no matter if you're nauseous, tired, or bloated."
"Thanks," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"You..." her voice became softer. "Addie, you have a baby growing inside you. A baby who is and will be so damn loved, and will fill our lives with happiness. You... I don't know how to explain it, but you have a different glow in your eyes... you're glowing, even if you don't see it."
Addison felt a lump in her throat. It wasn't the kind of speech she expected from Amelia. But it was sincere, and that completely disarmed her, making her eyes mist over again with emotion.
"Nothing that makeup can't cover anyway," Amelia added with a playful smile, breaking the moment before it turned too serious. "Stop crying and hurry up, because we're going to be late, and believe me, interrupting the ceremony will make everyone hate you."
Addison let out a small laugh, filled with relief, as if all the weight she had been carrying had loosened a bit. She sat down in front of the mirror and began to apply her makeup with steadier hands this time. She couldn't erase the fatigue from her face, but maybe she could disguise it.
From time to time, she glanced at Amelia out of the corner of her eye, watching her as if she were still processing her words.
Radiant. Maybe not today, but perhaps someday.
~•~
The place where the ceremony was to be held was a picturesque outdoor garden, located by the shores of the Los Angeles Sea.
As Addison walked down the carpeted path through the grass, she saw a structure decorated with golden fabrics and white flowers that rose like a sanctuary, waiting for the couple who would seal their love under its shade. Guests were seated in neat rows, their faces excited as the gentle murmur of the breeze mixed with laughter and the distant sound of waves.
At the back, a large white tent rose gracefully, offering shelter for the reception that would follow. The tables were set, adorned with delicate details, while the aroma of fresh flowers, specially chosen by Amelia, filled the air.
It was a perfect, sunny, and cheerful day; however, Addison couldn't convey that joy on her face. Of course, having spent a good part of the morning in front of the mirror questioning her appearance, she had forgotten to take her nausea medication. Yes. Again. Could she be any more foolish? Next time she should put the pill bottle in her bag or tattoo a reminder on her wrist so she wouldn't forget that little detail that would guarantee her a minimum of well-being throughout the day.
"Hey," Sam said, causing her to quickly turn toward him. He was followed by Maya and Olivia in her arms.
"Oh, hi," Addison smiled, waving her hand awkwardly to greet the baby.
"Hi, Aunt Addie," Maya greeted.
"Is everything okay?" Addison asked, looking at her boyfriend with some fear. She hadn't seen him since the day before.
"Why wouldn't it be?" He forced a small smile. His face didn't appear upset like it did yesterday... perhaps he didn't know yet. Maybe Naomi hadn't said anything yet and her secret was still safe. Or maybe he was just pretending in front of his daughter.
"I said lilies, not peonies!" Amelia shouted from afar, holding the bouquet of peonies that she was supposed to give to Charlotte in a few minutes, "and this color doesn't even match the tablecloths! White and gold, people! White and gold!"
Sam raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"She takes her role as maid of honor very seriously..." Addison murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"How brave Charlotte is for trusting her with her wedding..."
"I think... we should sit down, right?" she suggested, pointing to the seats.
"I'll go with Mom and Dink..." Maya said. She didn't know why her mother and her godmother had argued, but she didn't want to have problems with Naomi because of it.
Sam nodded, and they looked for some seats. As they settled in, Violet, Pete, Naomi, and Sheldon watched them silently. In fact, they didn't even respond to the shy wave that Addison made with her hand. They were clearly still upset with her...
"I thought we would come together. You know, it's something couples usually do at events like this..." Sam murmured once they were seated. His voice dripped with a passive-aggressive tone as his eyes narrowed towards Addison. His jaw subtly tensed, a sign of the irritation he was trying to disguise with false calm.
Addison glanced away towards the aisle that separated the chairs as if searching for an invisible exit. She maintained her nonchalant tone.
"What do you mean? We're together," she said with a vague smile, not looking directly at him.
"I mean arriving together, Addison. Not meeting here like we're two acquaintances."
"Hmm... I lost track of time," she replied indifferently, her eyes landing on Amelia, who in the distance was gesturing emphatically while arguing with a waiter about the appetizers at the main table.
"I called you four times this morning; you didn't answer. I left messages on your voicemail; I doubt you listened to them."
Addison pressed her lips together, and this time, she looked at him directly.
"What do you want me to say, Sam? I'm sorry? I was getting ready all morning. I didn't see them. I didn't want to ignore you on purpose just to avoid coming with you to the party."
"Well, I think the part about ignoring me was indeed on purpose."
"What do you mean?"
"You disappeared last night. I couldn't even say hi to you, and then suddenly you were gone. Where did you go?" the way he said it wasn't a genuine question; it sounded more like a veiled accusation.
"I was tired, Sam. I went up to my room to rest. Where else could I have gone in my own house?" she emphasized with irony, opening her arms as if the answer were more than obvious.
"You could've told me you were leaving. You keep running off to who knows where and…"
"Technically, I didn't leave. I was in my house."
"You could've let me know," he stubbornly repeated, ignoring her argument.
"You could have come up and asked what was wrong with me. But you didn't, did you? Because every time I feel bad, you run away from me," her eyes locked onto his, challenging him, looking for some sign of remorse. She found none.
Sam let out a breath of impatience.
"Okay, so what was wrong with you then?" he asked with feigned curiosity, opening his hands as if he was willing to listen. But the sarcasm was evident, as if he already knew the answer.
"Okay, stop looking at me like that. I'm trying to do the right thing, the best thing to protect Violet and the practice, and I'm accused of being insensitive. They get mad at me for proposing sensible solutions."
"Hmm," the sound was short and contemptuous, a way to belittle what she said.
Addison's face flushed with anger, her cheeks barely tinged with red, but her eyes seemed like sharp blades.
"It's not my fault we're in this position!"
"Well, you were the one who told the medical board that we openly shared our patients' clinical cases."
"Pete said it too. Besides, it's the truth. We do it for medical reasons!"
Silence fell between them, but this time it wasn't a neutral silence. It was dense and uncomfortable.
The May sun in Los Angeles, which at first felt pleasant, had turned into a torture after half an hour of waiting. The rays fell directly on Addison's forehead, making her feel sweaty and irritated. The heat was suffocating her. She pressed her lips together, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to control the nausea that crept in insidiously.
"This is taking too long. I need some fresh air and a bit of shade," she finally said, stepping away without waiting for a response.
Addison headed toward the white tent, her eyes fixed on Amelia, who had given up in her dispute with the waiter and was now sitting on one of the chairs, completely resigned.
"First and last time I'm a maid of honor for someone," she complained, plucking the red peony petals from her bouquet one by one.
Addison dropped into the chair beside her without saying a word. She could feel the throbbing in her temples, her stomach churning, and the accumulated frustration.
Amelia glanced at her sideways and then smiled ironically. "I take it you don't want to talk about that either."
Addison closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and exhaled in exhaustion.
"What's happening? Why hasn't it started yet? Where are the couple?" She tilted her head to look at her sister-in-law, hoping for some logical response.
"There is no wedding" Amelia didn't even blink when she dropped the news, as if she had already come to terms with the idea.
Addison frowned, narrowing her eyes as if she hadn't heard correctly.
"No wedding?" she repeated in disbelief, leaning slightly forward.
"What do you mean there is no wedding?" a deep and tense voice intervened behind them. Sam had arrived, followed by Violet, Pete, Naomi, Fife, Sheldon, and Cooper and Charlotte's parents, all with expressions of confusion. Some murmured among themselves, while others simply stared at Amelia expectantly.
Amelia shrugged nonchalantly.
"Well, there will be a wedding. In Las Vegas. Charlotte texted me before boarding. She says to enjoy the food and not to wait for them."
"Oh, they're getting married without us," Cooper's dad laughed with a mix of sarcasm and resignation.
"Can you blame them?" Cooper's mother added, with a look of disgust on her face.
"I need a drink," Charlotte's mother turned around with a brusque motion and headed toward the drink bar.
"We'll go with you," Cooper's parents closely followed her, as if they had been waiting for an excuse to escape.
"Mmm... okay, then I guess I'll leave too..." Sam murmured, putting his hands in his blazer's pockets.
"I'll join you," Sheldon added.
"Wait!" Violet interrupted before the group could disperse, "Before everyone leaves, I want to say that I'm sorry. You have to know that I didn't mean to hurt you... I just... I had no idea."
Addison crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on an indeterminate point on the ground. She refused to look at Naomi, who was right in front of her, with her arms also crossed.
"So, I spoke with the medical board today," Violet continued, "and I answered all their questions. And... I didn't apologize for what I wrote. Because it reflects our identity and how we practice medicine. We are friends and colleagues who help patients, and I'm proud of us. So... they said they would communicate their decision to me... but they didn't say when. Umm... that's all."
The silence that followed was uncomfortable. They all looked at each other, some nodded, while others simply didn't know what to say.
"Well, since we're here, let's celebrate!" Amelia raised her voice energetically, breaking the tension in the atmosphere. "I ordered champagne for everyone!" she leaned toward a waiter arriving with a tray of glasses.
Sam took two glasses from the tray and offered one to Addison, but she lightly shook her hands, rejecting his offer.
"So... to Charlotte and Cooper," Amelia made sure to take a glass of ginger ale and raised it with a smile. "Cheers to the smartest people I know!"
The glasses clinked at the center, creating a small chorus of crystals. Everyone toasted and drank, except Addison, who, placing a hand on her abdomen, stepped away from the tent, looking toward the bushes that bordered the grassy area of the beach. She needed air.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Sam's voice reached her from behind. He followed her with long strides, catching up to her in seconds.
She shook her head, not stopping her walk toward the bushes, but he wouldn't let her go. He abruptly grabbed her wrist, forcing her to turn around.
"Why are you leaving? Why didn't you toast?" he asked, a mix of irritation and bewilderment in his voice.
"Not now, Sam," her voice trembled, nearly breaking. She twisted to free herself, but he didn't let go. His grip tightened.
"Addison, can you act like a normal person? Can you stop running away every time...?"
But his words stopped abruptly when, suddenly, Addison leaned forward and, before he could react, vomited on his black patent leather shoes.
"What the hell was that?!" he shouted, jumping back, looking at his shoes with revulsion. His face twisted in a grimace of disgust that he didn't even try to hide.
She staggered, leaning a hand on her knee to keep her balance. Her face was pale, her eyes bright with tears pooling at the corners of her eyelids. Her breathing was shallow and shaky, struggling not to cry.
She didn't look at Sam. She couldn't. She felt a mix of disappointment and embarrassment over what had just happened. It wasn't supposed to come out this way; however, she could no longer keep it hidden from him.
"I'm pregnant," she blurted out in a timid whisper.