The Outed Secret

Joanne's senses sharpened, her body going on high alert. What the hell is Fiona playing at?

Still, she kept her expression neutral. "Congratulations," she said, because wasn't that the appropriate response?

Fiona let out a soft chuckle, one hand resting on her stomach in an almost absentminded caress. "Yeah…" Her smile was layered—motherly, wistful, maybe even a little uncertain.

Joanne caught her mumbling something under her breath, but the words were too quiet to make out.

For a brief moment, Fiona seemed lost in thought, her gaze unfocused, her mind drifting somewhere far from this room. Then, as if snapping out of it, she looked up again, this time with a bright—yet slightly forced—smile.

There were tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them quickly, trying to maintain her poise.

Without a word, Joanne grabbed the tissue holder from the coffee table and slid it toward her.