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“Well, I think this is enough for my first visit,” Mrs. Bible says, cutting into everything. She stares down at her tablet for a moment as if she’s reading through her notes, an indiscernible noise in the back of her throat. “Just a few questions before I go. How long have you and Miss Fritz been a couple?”
This is the question I had been hoping to avoid. Because if they investigate this any deeper, they’ll discover she was living with Patrick only a few months ago. There are only so many lies we can juggle before they backfire on us.
“It’s been… what? A few months or so,” Layla says and then laughs. “It’s so hard to keep track of when we actually got together versus how long we’ve wanted to be together. I’ve known Callan for years. He works with my brother-in-law, Oliver, and I’ve seen him at charity events hosted by the Abbot Foundation. We’ve been in each other’s lives for a very long time, and I’ve always secretly been in love with him. But once he told me the feeling was mutual, that was it. We’ve been full steam ahead since.”
“So you’ve only been together as a couple a few months?”
Shit. Not good.
“Technically, yes,” I say slowly, trying to keep my features even. “But when you know, you know.” I smile. She doesn’t.
Her mouth pinches into a frown. “You both also work at Mass General Hospital?”
More shit. “Layla is only helping out for the summer. She’s not an employee of the hospital.”
A heavy silence fills the air as this woman studies us. Hard. Like, trying to read every word and nuance in our text. She does something on her tablet and then slides it back into her bag. “I’ll be back another time.”
“Great,” I lie and then hop off the couch and lead her to the door. “Thank you for popping in tonight. Sorry about the alarm. Clearly baking isn’t my thing.” Ha ha ha. She doesn’t laugh with me.
“Good night, Dr. Barrows.”
“Good night, Mrs. Bible.”
The door shuts behind her, and I lock it, and then my forehead hits the heavy wood and my eyes close. Breathing hard, I rub my fist against my rioting heart.
What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?
I should have never started with this lie. It’s only going to be my downfall. My father would be appalled if I told him how I was trying to keep Katy. Then again, my parents aren’t here. They’re in Florida, practically fucking indifferent as they leave this entirely on my shoulders. I’m the one who has to manage this. I’m the one who is risking everything. I’m the one who could lose Katy.
Me.
And the one woman Ineed, the one woman I freakingwant, wishes she was anywhere other than here with me.
I hear her footsteps and the words splash past my lips before I can control them. “Were you out on a date?”
“No,” Layla says cautiously as if I’m a feral predator. Accurate since that’s how I’m feeling right about now. “I was bartending at Stella’s new restaurant.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the only money I can earn, and I like bartending.”
“Right. More tits, more tips,” I bite sardonically.
“Callan, I’m sorry I wasn’t here tonight. I know you’re upset.”
If I were a dick, I’d play this off. I’d blow past her as I said something dickish that I’m not even dickish enough to conjure up in my head. Nice guys always finish last, and most times, I don’t care about that. I know who I am, and I’ve always been good with that.
But this woman challenges me in a way no one has before, and I was part of a rock band with four teenage boys for four years. Trust me, you see some stuff when you’re on the road.
“If you don’t want to wear the ring I know you find so detestable, at least carry it on you so you can slide it on your fucking finger when we have to put on pretenses.”
I blow out a breath, needing to rein myself in. Needing to give her the out she might need. I right myself and then stare straight into her eyes. I wish she wasn’t as pretty as she is. I wish she didn’t look so remorseful.
“If you’ve changed your mind about being here and being part of this, then you should get your stuff and go. I won’t hold it against you. Hell, I wouldn’t even blame you. But this in between is killing me, Layla. The ghosting is fucking killing me. It’s another burden I can’t bear the weight of. I realize we might not have been friends, but I thought we understood each other and had enough respect to be honest. You told me that morning that you wouldn’t get weird on me and you wouldn’t run, but that’s exactly what you’re doing. So please, make the decision and live with it.”
I plow past her, heading straight for Katy, ready to watchThe Little Mermaidwith my girl. Everything might be falling apart, but at least I have her. For now.
22
