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Her breathing begins to grow faster, until it sounds like it’s becoming difficult for her to get air. She finally sits down on the bed, shaking her head, holding it. “My father can be a dick, but he’s still my father. He’s been there every second of my life!”
“Isaac raised you, loved you, protected you like you were his. And you are his in every way that counts, just not genetically.”
“That…that doesn’t make any sense. My parents never split up. Are you saying my mother had an affair?”
“I wish I could tell you that she did.”
“So, if she didn’t have an affair, then how? How, Barrett?” she exclaims.
“Dockery was a member of the MC with your father. He…it wasn’t her choice.”
“She didn’t want to have me?”
“No, baby. You saw his rap sheet. She had you even though he forced himself on her.”
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god.”
Lyla grabs her stomach, and then she’s on her feet, running to the bathroom with me right behind her.
She barely gets her face over the toilet before she loses the contents in her stomach.
Lifting Lyla’s hair up out of her face while she heaves, I tell her, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have told her. What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t want to lose her, and I knew in this moment that if I hadn’t been honest, I would’ve lost her.
I’m so goddamn selfish that I chose hurting her with the truth instead of losing her for good.
I never should’ve said anything.
Telling her didn’t do anything but rid me of the burden of keeping a secret from her. If I were a better man, I would’ve kept carrying that weight.
Every second I have to listen to her get sick makes me regret it all a little more until I’m ready to break.
When there’s nothing left in Lyla’s stomach, I offer her a tissue.
She takes it, wiping her eyes, nose, and mouth with it before flushing it too. “I…I have to go.”
“No, Lyla, please stay.”
She shakes her head as she walks back to my bedroom. “I’m going to Atlanta.”
“Atlanta? Why?”
“There’s an assistant job there. The one I was supposed to interview for before. It’s still available.”
“Why would you move states away to be someone’s assistant when you could stay here and run the whole damn nonprofit?”
She shakes her head again and hefts her bag onto her shoulder. “I can’t, Barrett. I need to go.”
“Lyla, wait,” I beg her, but she’s already down the hallway, heading for the front door.
“Sorry, man,” Thane says before he follows her.
Lyla
“We making a quick getaway?” Thane asks as he follows me to the car with his duffle over his shoulder, his hand pressed to his side.
“Yes, sorry.”
