AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I nod and watch her as I whisk. Her expression turns solemn, and I immediately regret asking. What the hell kind of nanny am I?
“She used to smile at me a lot.”
My eyes water. “You look just like her.”
“You knew Mommy?”
I nod, unable to speak due to the lump in my throat.
“Dad said I look like her; he said it was hard for him.”
That son of a bitch. Who says that to a child?
“He said that to you?”
“No, he told Luke. I was sleeping in the car, but I wasn’t asleep. Not really.”
Oh, oh. I scrunch up my face. Still, that son of a bitch.
“Luke?”
“Daddy’s best friend.”
Oh, he couldn’t be important because nobody told me about him.
“I feel cold,” Ruby says as she hugs herself.
I wipe my hands on my apron and approach her on the tabletop. I touch their forehead; she’s freezing. Shit, I shouldn’t have left the window open.
“Come 'ere.” My arms envelop her as I lift her from the table, and her small frame wraps around me.
She shivers in my arms. She’s wearing a thick, long-sleeved shirt and corduroy overalls, but she shouldn’t be this cold.
“Layla,” she gasps, “I can’t… Layla.”
I look at her, and panic seizes my heart as I see her eyes widen, fear replacing the joy that was there a few moments ago. Ruby’s hands are balled into tiny fists as she tries and fails to catch her breath. I rush to the living room and lay her on the couch, the weight of uncertainty settling in the pits of my stomach. Ruby’s fists open and grab the couch as her face reddens.
I know she has asthma, but the sudden attack caught me off guard. Okay, don’t panic, Layla. You can do this. You’ve done this countless times before.
Her face turns red as she pants and grips the couch with tiny fingers. Tiny gasps escape her lips as she struggles for air.
“You’ll be fine, baby.”
I dash to the medicine cabinet in the immaculate bathroom and scatter through, looking for an inhaler. My hands tremble over bottles and boxes. Seconds stretch into an agonizing eternity as I search the shelves. Panic threatens to overwhelm me as I imagine the worst.
I have to call Tristan; I have to call Tristan.
Then I see the small blue inhaler—Ruby's elixir of life—in the corner of the shelf. I forget Tristan and grab it. My strides quickly take me to the living room, and I dash to Ruby’s side. I put it in her mouth, desperate to bring respite to her.
“Here, baby,” I say. “Here. You’re fine, you’re fine.”
The first puff releases a rush of tension. I shake and pump the medicine into her lungs as her body gradually quietens and her heartbeat steadies. I hold her against my chest, my chin on her head, as I rub her back.
“Layla,” she says quietly.
“Yes, Ruby?”
“Will you leave me like mommy?”
