Chapter 5: The Dinner
Dina stepped through the doorway into the warm glow of the apartment, a container of her homemade pickles clutched to her chest. The scent of garlic and herbs cut through the cozy air, mingling with whatever Astrid had cooking in the kitchen. Her belly pressed against the soft cream sweater she wore, the fabric stretching taut across the curve.
"God, it smells incredible in here," Dina breathed, accepting Astrid's hug with one arm, the jars still pressed between them. Their bellies brushed, a strange and not unwelcome intimacy.
Astrid laughed, pulling back to take the container. "Shane's grilling. Something about wanting to prove he can do more than boil pasta and defrost frozen dinners."
"He's lying. I've never defrosted anything in my life." Shane's voice carried from the open kitchen counter that overlooked the living room. He wore an apron over his broad shoulders, a pair of tongs in one hand, and grinned at Dina. "Captain of the Toronto Titans, and my wife thinks I'm a frozen dinner connoisseur."
Dina's laugh came easy. "I believe it. Leo can't cook either. I think if I wasn't around, he'd survive on gas station sandwiches."
"Beer in the fridge," Shane offered, gesturing with the tongs. "Non-alcoholic stuff for you two, obviously. Astrid's been on a sparkling water kick that's honestly kind of bougie."
"Shut up." Astrid rolled her eyes but smiled, guiding Dina toward the sofa. The apartment was exactly as Dina had imagined it might be: plush, lived-in, with a few trophies on a shelf she pretended not to notice. A stack of baby books sat on the coffee table. A tiny onesie, pale pink, draped over the arm of the couch waiting for someone to fold it properly.
"It's beautiful here," Dina said, settling into the cushions. The effort of the climb made her breath short, and she let out a small, satisfied sigh. "Our place is still half boxes. Leo keeps saying we'll unpack before the baby comes. I keep saying that's about to be a much more immediate problem."
Astrid eased down beside her, closer than strictly necessary. She propped one hand on her belly, the gesture almost unconscious. "How far along are you now? Thirty weeks?"
"Thirty-two. You're at thirty-two?"
"About that." Astrid shifted. "Honestly, I'm so tired of people telling me I'm 'ready to pop.' Like I'm a champagne cork."
Dina snorted. "My mother-in-law keeps telling me that I've got 'the glow.' I told her it's actually rage and heartburn."
Shane called from the kitchen as he pulled the grill pan off the stove. "You two are going to terrify each other with pregnancy stories. Should I be evacuating the apartment?"
"No," they said in unison, and then looked at each other. Dina felt the laugh rise in her chest, warm and easy. It had been so long since she'd had this, a woman who understood. Most of her friends had drifted when she got pregnant; they couldn't relate to the constant weight, the strange hours, the way her body no longer felt like just hers.
Dinner came easily. Shane served grilled fish with a salsa he'd clearly spent effort on, roasted vegetables, and a big salad. He made them both sparkling water with lime and pretended to toast his own beer.
"To my beautiful pregnant ladies," he said, lifting his glass. "And to the babies who are clearly the ones running this show."
Dina lifted her glass. "To husbands who can cook and don't treat us like glass."
Shane raised an eyebrow. "I've been known to treat her like glass a time or two."
"You're learning," Astrid said, but her eyes were warm. She placed a hand on his thigh under the table, and Dina watched the gesture, felt a twist of something complicated in her chest.
After they'd eaten, Shane started clearing plates with an efficiency that suggested he'd been trained. Dina watched him move around the kitchen, broad shoulders and capable hands, so different from Leo's cautious hovering. The contrast was almost too sharp.
Leo wouldn't leave her to clear a table. He wouldn't leave her alone with a guest, for fear she might stand too quickly or lift something heavy. He'd want to steer every conversation back to her comfort, her mood, her aches. As if there was nothing else to her anymore except the pregnancy.
She realized she was staring at Shane's back. She looked away sharply, focusing on Astrid, who was watching her with a knowing softness in her eyes.
"Penny for them?" Astrid asked quietly.
Dina smiled, trying to deflect. "You've got a good one there."
"I know." Astrid said it simply, no defense in her voice. "He's not perfect. He forgets things. He snores. But he still looks at me like I'm a person, not just a womb with legs."
The phrase was raw and honest, and Dina felt something loosen in her chest. "I don't think Leo knows how to do that anymore."
Shane returned, dropping a plate of chocolate-covered pretzels on the coffee table. He slid a glance between them. "I'm going to pretend I didn't walk into the middle of that conversation and go check on the baby's room. You know, making sure the crib hasn't spontaneously assembled itself."
He disappeared down the hallway, and the apartment felt quiet in his wake. The only sounds were the low hum of the refrigerator and the soft rasp of their breathing.
Dina leaned forward, reaching for a pretzel, and Astrid did the same. Their fingers brushed in the bowl. Neither pulled away immediately. The touch lingered, electric.
"Leo never touches me like that," Dina said, the words out before she could stop them. Her voice cracked around the edges. "Not kindly. Not just because he wants to feel me. He touches me to guide me, to support me, like I'm a piece of furniture he's afraid might topple over."
Astrid's fingers turned beneath hers, catching them gently. The gesture was intimate, surprising. Dina's breath caught.
"You deserve to be touched like the woman you are," Astrid said. "Not like a fragile thing."
Dina's eyes stung. She blinked rapidly. "I don't know how to ask for that anymore. I don't even know if it's something he could give."
"Show him." Astrid's voice dropped low. Her thumb traced a slow circle across the back of Dina's hand. The electric current seemed to pass between them, charging the small space on the sofa. "Tell him what you need on a Tuesday. Don't wait for a special occasion. And if he can't hear it, that's not your failure."
Dina looked up, and their eyes met. Astrid's gaze was steady, deep, holding something unspoken that made Dina's heart knock hard against her ribs. She didn't pull her hand away. Neither of them did.
The hallway creaked. Shane's voice called out, "The crib is standing. No one is injured. I'm going to grab a beer, is anyone thirsty?"
The spell broke. They released each other's hands, but the warmth lingered on Dina's skin like a brand. She cleared her throat, reaching for a pretzel to steady herself.
"Sparkling water," she managed. "Please."
Her heart was still pounding. She didn't dare look at Astrid, afraid of what she might find there. Or worse, afraid of what Astrid might find in her.
The kitchen door swung open, and Shane stepped back into the living room, a beer in his hand and a smile already on his face. The smile faltered for just a breath when he saw their hands still tangled on the coffee table, Dina's fingers caught in Astrid's grip like a lifeline. He recovered quickly, but the pause was there, a beat of stillness that hung in the air like a held note.
"Sorry," he said, his voice light but his eyes sharp. "Didn't mean to interrupt the moment. Should I make myself scarce again?"
Dina snatched her hand back as if burned. The blood rushed to her cheeks, hot and mortifying. She could feel the heat spreading down her neck, and she busied herself with the pretzel bowl, shoving one into her mouth just to have something to do.
Astrid didn't look half as flustered. She leaned back into the couch cushions, one hand falling to rest on her belly. "You weren't interrupting anything. We were just talking."
"Uh huh." Shane's grin was a little crooked now, a little knowing. He crossed to the armchair and dropped into it, his eyes flicking between them with an expression Dina couldn't quite read. "Girl talk. Got it. Very intense girl talk, judging by the hand-holding."
"Shane," Astrid said, a warning in her voice.
"I'm not judging." He held up both hands, the beer still clutched in one. "I'm actually a little jealous. You two have something I can't be part of. That whole pregnancy bond thing. The club I'll never get into."
Dina managed a laugh, though it came out thin. "It's not exactly a fun club. Lots of heartburn and swollen ankles."
Shane's expression softened. "I bet. But I also bet it helps to have someone who gets it." He looked at Astrid, and Dina saw the naked fondness there, the way his whole face gentled when he looked at his wife. "I'm glad you have that."
Astrid's hand found his across the gap between the sofa and the armchair. They squeezed, a silent assurance. Dina watched them, her chest tight with complicated feelings she couldn't name.
The moment passed. Shane cracked open his beer and launched into a story about one of his teammates doing something idiotic at practice, and the conversation drifted to safer ground. Dina let herself be carried along, laughing at the right moments, asking the right questions. But beneath the surface, her skin still tingled where Astrid's thumb had traced that slow circle, and she couldn't stop sneaking glances at the other woman when she thought no one was looking.
After the plates were cleared and the candles had burned down to stubs, Astrid excused herself to use the bathroom. Dina found herself alone with Shane in the quiet living room, the weight of his gaze heavy on her.
He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, his beer forgotten. He studied her for a long moment, and Dina felt exposed under his scrutiny.
"She's not just my wife, you know," he said quietly. "She's my best friend. She's everything."
Dina swallowed. "I know. I can tell."
"I'm not trying to warn you off." He uncrossed his arms, scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying. If she's what you need right now, someone who sees you as more than a bump. I'm not going to stand in the way of that."
Dina blinked, her heart stumbling. "What are you saying?"
Shane shrugged. "I'm saying I saw the way you looked at her. And the way she looked at you when she thought I wasn't paying attention. There's something there. I don't know what it is, and maybe you don't either. But I'm not going to pretend I didn't see it."
The bathroom door opened, and Astrid emerged, her face flushed. She looked between them, reading the tension instantly. "What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Dina and Shane said in unison.
Astrid's eyes narrowed, but she let it go, settling back onto the couch. And Shane shot Dina a look that said the conversation wasn't over, before turning back to his wife with a smile.
The rest of the evening passed in that strange suspended tension. Dina left an hour later, hugging Astrid at the door, the press of their bodies together lingering a moment too long. She felt the curve of Astrid's belly against hers, warm and alive.
"Come back soon," Astrid said softly. "Maybe without the husbands next time."
Dina laughed, but her heart wasn't in it. "Maybe."
She walked to her car in the cool night air, her skin still thrumming with the ghost of that touch. She sat in the driver's seat for a long moment, her hands resting on the steering wheel, trying to still the trembling in her fingers.
Leo would be waiting for her at home, hovering, asking if she'd eaten enough, if she'd overexerted herself. The thought made her chest ache with something that felt like grief.