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CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Layla
“I’m not sure I can do this,” I say with the phone pressed to my ear as I look at myself in my bedroom mirror.
“I’m so happy for you,” Tess says.
I laugh nervously, walking to the window and staring at the garden. Since Miles dropped me back at my car—we drove home separately so we didn’t arouse suspicion—I’ve been thinking about this morning.
“Happy? It could all come crashing down in a few minutes.”
“Maybe, but I’m not talking about that. Hefeels the same. Have you stopped for a second to let yourself savor that?”
“Don’tyouthink I’m crazy, wanting a family, kids, a marriage, with my step-uncle?”
“Are youalwaysgoing to hold that icky comment over my head?” she teases lightly. “Maybe it’s crazy on one level, but you’re my friend, and I want you to be happy. Now go on and rip off the Band-Aid and remember this. You. Can. Do. This.”
After hanging up, I pray she’s right, but so many nerves are trying to throttle me. I almost let out a silly scream when I hear a knock at my door.
“Layla?” It’s Mom, her voice low. Maybe because she thinks I want to speak to her about Graham. “Are you almost ready? I have to leave for work soon.”
That’s not exactly true. We arranged our meeting forty-five minutes before anybody had to leave so there was plenty of time for…
What am I thinking?Plenty of time?
Forty-five minutes isn’t long enough for a mother to give her daughter willingly to her brother-in-law, is it?
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be down in a second.”
I brush my outfit down and take a long, slow breath. Trying to remember Tess’s words, “you can do this,”I look at myself sternly in the mirror and know the truth. Tess is wrong. I can’t do it.
* * *
“So, what is this about?” Noah says with a calm smile and no idea of the storm we’re about to unleash.
We sit in the garden around the table since it’s a warm morning. Coffee steams into the air. Noah and Mom sit across from Miles and me, though we didn’t do this intentionally. It’s like we’re arranged across a battlefield.
Panic flutters in me, though Miles sits calmly, posture straight. I’ve barely looked at him since coming out here. He’s too handsome with his tight T-shirt, shorts, and arms catching the light. When he looked at me, there was a light in his eyes, too, silently telling me we can do this. We can build a life together. Everything is going to be okay.
“Well,” Miles says, but I can’t take it anymore.
Oh, God, this is pitiful. Cowardly. Pathetic.
“It’s about Graham,” I say quickly.
I feel Miles staring at me, but I don’t turn to face him. Mom nods as if this is what she was expecting.
“You both wanted to meet me about Graham?” Mom says a moment later, narrowing her eyes at Miles.
“I…” Miles trails off.
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s pissed. He doesn’t want to lie for me. We had an agreement, a path to begin our lives together, but it’s scarier than I thought.
I try to hold on to the warm orb of joy that sprung into existence in me last night, the glowing certainty that Miles and I belong together, but the glow isn’t bright enough to blot out everything else.
“When Miles picked me up at work,” I say, inventing… no,lying, “there were these men. One was called Josh, and—”
“Josh,” Mom says, turning his name into a curse word with how she spits it out.
