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“Then I have no doubt you can do this, Ari,” she continues. “Because when it comes to Forsyth, it’s the women that always climb into the ring and make shit happen.”
Before I can respond, there’s a loud sniff. We all look over at Story. Tears are glistening in the corners of her brown eyes, and she quickly wipes her nose with her sleeve.
“That was really sweet, Lavinia,” she says, choking back a sob.
I frown. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Story replies, trying to laugh it off. “I’m just weirdly emotional right now. Ignore me.”
Verity eyes her for a long second, then suddenly blurts, “Oh my fucking god. You’re pregnant.”
“What?” Story laughs shakily. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s obvious. You’re emotional.” She points a pink nail at her. “That shirt is three times too big, and that’s why you had to go pee six times during the ballet.”
“Five times,” Story refutes, cheeks flushing. “And once, I was checking in with Tristian.”
I blink, watching the exchange unfold. Lavinia isn’t nearly as discreet.
“I thought your tits looked bigger!” She exclaims, then looks at Verity. “I said that earlier, didn’t I?” Verity nods in agreement. “I said, Story’s tits look fantastic tonight.”
“Er, thank you?” Story’s mouth quivers for a moment before she breaks into a wide, almost disbelieving grin. “But yes, I’m pregnant.”
“Holy shit,” Lavinia says, right when I add, “Congratulations.”
“I knew it!” Verity shouts over all of us.
“Shhh!” Story waves her hands at us. “It’s not exactly public, and I’m still getting used to it, and the guys are really getting used to it. It’s been a whole thing.”
“Well, I’m ecstatic.” Verity’s smile softens. “I guess that means our babies will grow up together.”
“You mean JJ?” Story asks.
Verity’s hand lands on the small swell of her stomach. “Yes, but I meant whoever this little person is inside of here.”
“You’re pregnant, too?” Lavinia blurts, jaw dropping. “Already?”
“Already,” Verity laughs. “Come on, you know how they are—literally programmed to knock me up.”
“Well, they are certainly capable,” Lavinia says, quickly holding up both hands. “And before anyone asks—fuck no. I am solidly not pregnant.”
“Me either,” I say, barely able to process everything landing at once. Both women are carrying new life with the men they love and trust, while there’s still so much pain and torment out there.
The girls share hugs—tight, genuine, full of laughter and a little residual emotion. I’m startled when I’m pulled into the middle of it, arms wrapping around me from all sides. For a moment the dressing room feels warmer, almost like the kind of sisterhood I never really had growing up.
When we finally pull apart, the air feels different. Lighter, even with everything still unresolved outside these walls.
“Thank you,” I tell them again, quieter this time. “For staying, and for allowing me to be part of this.”
Verity squeezes my hand once. Lavinia gives me a firm nod. Story wipes under her eyes and smiles.
“You’ve got this, Arianette,” Story says. “You’re strong and smart, and we’ve got your back.”
Verity’s red hair catches the low light as she shifts closer. “We mean that. Not just for tonight.”
Lavinia crosses her arms, but there’s no distance in the gesture. “Forsyth tries to isolate us. It wants us competing, scared, alone. We’ve all lived that version of the story.” Her hair falls over one shoulder as she looks between us. “We’re done with it.”
Story nods, still a little emotional. “We’re not like the women that came before us. We’re royal women who stand with our men, but also with each other. We don’t get lost in this city. Not if we stay connected.”
