Page 66 of Shattered Hearts

“Laynie…” I start but quickly rethink my words. I can’t spill my thoughts right now. Here. In front of my family. It needs to be right. But how am I to know that she’d want to hear how much I’ve fallen for her? That I would literally do anything for her.

If she asked for me to drive with her to a whole new state for the chance of something better, I wouldn’t even bat an eye as I packed my ute.

But does she feel the same way? What if I ruin what we have by opening my big, dumb mouth? Or what if I’m not good enough to be a dad?

“Grayson,” she whispers, bringing me back to the present.

The cold evening air blows across my face, and she tightens her arms across her stomach.

“Umm…” I murmur, trying to find the right words. “Are you mad that… he didn’t want to be a part of this?”

She knows exactly who I’m referring to, because I watch the dip in her brows and the downturn of her mouth. Her throat works, and I inwardly groan.

I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m tearing open a wound that wasn’t fully healed.

Stepping back to give her a bit of breathing room, I chew on my bottom lip.

She surprises me by shaking her head. “No, I’m not mad. I’m not even upset anymore. I guess it’s just what was meant to happen, and it’ll be fine.” Her hand rests on her abdomen, and I can’t help but stare at her. In all her beauty, glowing and rosy cheeked, she’s radiant, like a star burning bright against the night sky.

I’ve fallen for this shooting star.

“We’ll be fine,” I hear her murmur.

My heart jolts for a moment, and I look down at her to see her eyes on her hand.

She was speaking about the baby. Not me.

Gosh I wish it was me too.

Throat working, I put my hand on her back, and she smiles up at me, bright and wide eyed like how she looks at me every time I praise her latest baking experiments. It’s gorgeous.

“You will be,” I breathe out, my mouth curling at the sight of her. “I’ll make sure that you are.”

I will die keeping that promise.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Laynie

The next two weeks fly by within a blink. I have more appointments with Fiona at the hospital. We’ve started discussing a birthing plan and preparing everything for the big day. Grayson has been messaging me daily to check in on me. Some might find it overbearing, but I adore it. He promised to be beside me through this, and that’s what he’s doing.

A few moments over the past month, I felt something on his end. A spark. A sizzle. There was something, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. The way Grayson was staring at me made me tingle all over. Every inch of my skin fizzled like soda water, and it lit a flame in my mind.

Could this friendship be evolving but neither of us are willing to admit it out loud? Is he willing to step up into the role of being a father to a baby that isn’t even his? It seems like a lot to ask, which is why I’ve been shoving away my feelings in the hopes that maybe they’ll just slip away.

So far, they haven’t, but I will keep trying.

Mum and Dad have been supportive, but maybe a little too much to the point of suffocation. I don’t have the heart to tell them to give me some space. Not after cutting their holiday short to come look after me.

My stomach is showing more obvious signs that I am pregnant, so Mum took to the streets, trying to smother all the stories being passed around about me. And some of them are quite adventurous… especially between the other middle-aged mums.

Who knew they had such vivid imaginations?

I overheard one afternoon when I was in the market that Sally, one of the said mums, was telling everyone that I was knocked up to draw attention to my bakery.

Not sure how that even works, Sally, but whatever…

With Mum going around attempting to control the town gossip, and Dad basically hovering around me like a bee every time I’m home, it’s becoming a little too much to bear. Not to mention that Sadie and I are still sharing my childhood bedroom, with her blow-up mattress taking up half of the floor. The house was small with just the three of us, but with my cousin living there too, it feels like we’re living on top of each other.