Chapter 212

~ Octavia ~

After everything at the court, the wedding preparation started. I did not want it to be rushed so I took two weeks after the court hearing on a Saturday to start. Knowing I had gotten to a significant place in my project. All that was left was for a date to be fixed by the board for a presentation.

The bridal boutique was a flurry of white fabric and excited chatter. Mum was at my side, already tearing up at the sight of me in the first dress. Olga and Lila had come along to help too.

Franklin was at home with Fredrick.

Franklin had booked out the whole day just for me to shop my wedding dress. He is extra, I know.

"No, no," mum said, shaking her head at the third dress. "This one makes her look like a cupcake."

She hated it. But to me, it wasn’t so bad.

"Mummm," I laughed, "it’s not that bad."

"Trust me," she said firmly. "You deserve better than cupcake."

My bridesmaids were in full planning mode. Annie was on her phone, taking notes on flowers. Victoria and Ava were debating between two different cake designs, their voices rising with passion. Sarah, was flipping through a wedding planning magazine with intense concentration.

I had told them that it was a vow renewal because truthfully, it is. But to us, we knew what it meant to us.

"What about the reception?" Victoria asked. "Are we doing a sit-down dinner or buffet?"

"Sit-down," I said. "Franklin insists on elegance."

"Of course he does," Ava said with a knowing smile. "That man is completely smitten."

I was blushing when Lila suggested we break for lunch. We ended up at a small cafe nearby, and that’s when the weirdness started.

I had my eyes on a particular gown I saw while going out. I was going to check it later.

"I want pickles," I announced, studying the menu. "And ice cream. The vanilla kind."

Annie looked up from her phone. "Separately, right? You’re not going to mix them?"

"Actually," I said slowly, "what if I got them together? Like, pickle juice drizzled over vanilla ice cream?"

There was a beat of silence.

"Octavia, no," Victoria said firmly.

"Octavia, yes," I said, already raising my hand to flag down the waitress.

They all watched in fascination and horror as I ate my bizarre creation. Victoria looked like she might be sick just watching me. But honestly? It was incredible. The salty, sour kick of the pickles against the cold sweetness of the ice cream was oddly perfect.

"I don’t understand what I’m looking at," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"Neither do I," Annie said. "But I’m taking a picture because no one will believe this happened."

By the time we got back to the boutique, I was starting to feel strange. A little light-headed. The fluorescent lights seemed too bright, and the smell of the fabric, usually was making my stomach turn slightly.

"You okay?" Patricia asked, noticing me grip the edge of the fitting platform a bit too tightly.

"Just dizzy," I said. "Probably just stood up too fast."

But as they helped me into the wedding dress, the one that was absolutely perfect, the one that made everyone gasp, even I loved it but I could not focus, the dizziness got worse. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and I gripped Victoria’s shoulder to steady myself.

"Octavia?" Victoria said, concern crossing her face. "You’re pale."

"I’m fine," I said, but even I could hear the wavering in my voice.

Then I felt it. The nausea. Sudden and intense, rising in my throat like a wave I couldn’t control.

"Oh no," I whispered.

"What? What’s wrong?" Annie was at my side immediately.

"I think I’m going to—"

My mum was already moving, pulling me away from the dress toward the nearest trash can. Which, thankfully, was close. I barely made it.

When it was over, I was shaking and embarrassed. The boutique staff had scattered discreetly. My bridesmaids were gathered around me with water and concern etched on their faces.

"Should we call Franklin?" Sarah asked.

"No," I said quickly. "It’s nothing. Maybe something I ate?"

"You mean the pickle ice cream?" Ava said gently.

"Probably the pickle ice cream," I agreed, though even as I said it, something felt off. This didn’t feel like a simple food reaction.

My mum sat me down on one of the plush chairs in the boutique, pressing a cool hand to my forehead. She pulled me to the side, so it was just us. While the others were settling whatever had gone down. The staff too was cleaning up.

I sat down for a moment trying to catch my breathe.

You’re clammy," she said, her tone shifting to full mother mode. "When was the last time you ate something substantial?"

"This morning," I said. "I had breakfast with Franklin. I ate mashed potatoes."

She was quiet for a moment, just studying my face. And then, in that way mothers have of knowing things, she asked the question that made everything click into place.

"When last did you get your period, Octavia?"

The boutique seemed to go very quiet.

I tried to think. When was it? I’d been so caught up in work, in the wedding planning, and everything . I tried to count back but I can’t remember. I was supposed to get it few days ago but I missed it and I did not even notice.

"I..." I started, but I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Because suddenly, everything made sense. The dizziness. The nausea. The weird food cravings. The way Franklin had joked about needing to start a new phase. The way we’d celebrated so thoroughly after the court hearing. Hmmm.

Mum’s expression shifted to something like understanding. Her eyes widened slightly, and her hand gripped mine. She was grinning from ear to ear.

I realized I had absolutely no idea.

Was I pregnant? Isn’t it too early? I just got back with Franklin.

How would he feel? We had not really spoken about it. I hope he would be thrilled by it.

But first, let’s find out if I am pregnant or not.

I really wish I was, a baby? Absolutely dazzling.

I am going to be a mum.