How Many More Bombshells Do You Have?

‘No…don’t…come back…’ Giana said weakly, her words punctuated by coughs. Kira was already at the door. ‘But your stomach!’ Giana shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’ ‘Are you sure? The doctor said you had internal bleeding.’ ‘I’m sure.’ Giana patted the side of the bed. ‘I was just… surprised.’ That was too mild a word to describe what she was feeling. Astonished, dumbfounded, gobsmacked. Inside, she was screaming like that marmot on Blackcomb Mountain. She took a deep breath, then another, and another. When she finally calmed down, she said, ‘Okay, I’m good. Carry on. Any more bombshells you want to drop? Don’t tell me you have kids.’ ‘No, no kids,’ Kira said hurriedly. ‘Just the marriage.’ ‘Okay. When did it happen?’ ‘A year ago.’ ‘A year?!’ Giana raised her voice. ‘Watch your stomach,’ Kira placated her friend by stroking her back. ‘Please don’t get too excited.’ ‘You’ve been married for a year and you didn’t tell me?’ Giana swatted Kira’s hand away. Kira wrung her hands. ‘I wanted to, but…’