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Those words didn’t make sense either. I had the sense that this conversation was a bullet train racing past me. I was too close to it to make sense of what I was seeing, and it was going too fast for me to jump on. I was going to miss it.
Layla opened her mouth to say something else, but I held up a hand. “Wait.” I watched the last week play out in front of my eyes again, and suddenly, it looked very different. She hadn’t disappeared because she was traumatized by Blake or disgusted by me, and she definitely hadn’t stopped taking my calls because anything Blake had said was true.
She had been adjusting to the reality that now I was floundering in. We were going to have a baby. Joy hit me, but then the last thing she’d said to me played in my head again.
I can do it alone.
“Alone?” I repeated. “Why the hell would you do it alone, Layla?”
Her gaze was cautious as she searched mine. She was leaning forward now, and the tight knot of her fingers was loosening. “If you don’t want to be a dad, Aiden, you don’t have to be. I didn’t do this to trap you.”
“Trapme?” I choked on the idea. “Are you fucking with me, Layla? You couldn’t trap me if you tried. I’m not trying to go anywhere. With you is the only place I want to be. And if we’re going to be parents–” I blew out my breath, unable to put into words how much this elevated things. I wouldn’t have left her before, now I couldn’t. Not because she’d trapped me, but because she’d made everything so unbelievablyrich.
She stared at me for a long moment without blinking. I got the feeling I’d shocked her. “But you don’t want kids,” she said with certainty.
“I didn’t want kids with anyone but you.” I wanted to respect her space, especially after what had happened with Blake, but I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out and grabbed her hand. To my relief, I felt her fingers relax and wrap around mine. “I want everything with you, Layla.”
The certainty in her eyes was cracking up. Slowly, the truth of what I was saying was getting to her. She’d built defenses around herself, so sure that I would leave. I took her other hand and squeezed tightly. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said quietly, hoping the repetition would help tear them down faster. “I’m in love with you.”
“I’m in love with you, too.” Her fractured gaze started to coalesce again. She blinked several times and met my eyes. For the first time since I showed up on her doorstep, I felt like I could seeheragain. She was wrapped in confidence and vulnerability, and the glow that I’d noticed in her skin was entering her eyes. Her lips began to curve the longer we stared at each other.
“Is that enough?” she wondered. “To overcome everything?”
“What’s there to overcome? I survived my first encounter with Jack.”
The quick smile on her face told me she already knew that. Her mother must have called after I left.
“And Blake miraculously dropped his allegations, so we don’t have to worry about conjugal visits,” I continued, encouraged by the light and the smile.
Her smile deepened, and there was a flash of something in her eyes that I couldn’t read. I wondered if I’d ever know her completely. I hoped I’d get to spend the rest of my life finding out.
“How did it go with my dad?” she asked, skipping over the Blake situation entirely.
“Your dad reminded me I’m old as hell, but we agreed that if I could give you forty good years, he’d give me his blessing.”
“His blessing?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Maybe I exaggerated that part,” I admitted. “If I can give you forty good years, he’ll let me stay in one piece.”
“Forty years.” Layla’s eyes sparkled with tears and, I hoped, happiness. “That sounds good.”
I stood and pulled her up with me. “It’s a good start anyway.”
“A start,” she agreed, threading her arms around my neck and pulling my face down to meet hers. And when her lips met mine, I felt the stress of the last week fall away. More than that. I felt the relentless pressure to succeed that I’d carried on my shoulders my entire life shift off.
EPILOGUE
LAYLA
Our daughter Abigail was born six and a half months later. A few days after her first birthday, I spent the night with Liv at our old apartment. She and Bran now shared it, and even though they still technically had separate bedrooms, I knew they spent most nights with each other.
“This feels like old times,” Liv said when she threw open the door. I knocked, even though I still had a key.
“Yes, all the old times when we had bouquets of penis-shaped balloons in front of the TV,” Bran said, joining her at the door.
I laughed, seeing them bobbing about behind his head. “Liv, this isn’t a bachelorette party. It’s not even a bridal shower.”
“I know, but you didn’t want either of those things, and I’d already bought these balloons, so…” Liv shrugged as she led me in.
