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The look he gives me stops my words in cold air. He parts his locks with his hand and slicks his hair back. Nurses pass in the hallway with clipboards. Despite their tiredness, they stare at Tristan’s handsome face for a second too long. I don't blame them.
“I’m going to ask you one thing—” he points at me, “—just one thing, and I want the truth.” His hands are behind him, and his face is expressionless.
His body language is making me uneasy. I still feel a bit tired, so I rest a hand against the wall as he stares down at me.
“Tristan, what’s going on?”
“When did you and Miles start working together?” His jaw sets.
I stare at him in confusion, my lashes batting quickly. Miles? What? Working together?
“What are you talking about?” My hand leaves the wall as I stand straight before him. “I saw him for the first time in my life yesterday.”
“Enough with the fucking lies!” Tristan doesn’t raise his voice, but his eyes flash with deadly anger. “Enough. Now, I’m going to ask again.”
“And my answer will remain the same as last time.” I step closer to him, but he takes a step back, his gaze hardening. “Is this Luke? Did Luke come to you with—”
“You know—” He laughs mirthlessly and shakes his head, “—I trusted you with parts of myself I never showed anyone else.”
“Tristan,” I say his name like an apology.
“I asked you outside the club when we went golfing, remember?” He raises a brow, his face tight. “I asked you if there was anything I should know, and you promised me you were being candid.”
His eyes tell me he knows my secret. His body tells me I’ve lost him. I reach out to him, but he avoids my hand like a plague.
“You fucked it all up, Layla.” He stares at me, unblinking for a second. “Or should I say Erin?”
The temperature drops just as my heart drops. The words hang in the air between us like a death sentence; the weight of his accusations presses down on me like a ton of bricks. He knows.
“Tristan, I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s not what you think. I swear, I—”
He removes an envelope from his back pocket and shoves it so hard against me that I stagger back. “I don’t want to hear another filthy lie out of your mouth. That’s your goddamn birth certificate.”
“I didn’t tell my parents anything. I swear!” Tears sting at the corners of my eyes, but I hold it back. Enough crying. “I’d never met Miles before yesterday. I didn’t feed him any information. Tristan, please.” I reach for a handout.
“I trusted you, Layla.” His voice is laced with bitterness as he regards me with contempt in his dark eyes. He turns around, then turns back. “You fucking came into my house and recorded conversations for a journalist? You came to try to steal my kid from me?”
“I didn’t betray you.” I shook my head aggressively, willing him to believe me. “Yes, at the beginning, my parents sent me, but I—”
“You had enough motive already, yeah?” he lifts his chin and sneers. “What with your business being destroyed and all, right?”
I stare up at him. The hallway is empty; at least, nobody is around to witness my shame. I bury my face in my hands as my shoulders slump.
How do I fix this?
Chapter twenty-six
Tristan
On the drive over to the hospital, all I wanted was for everything not to be true. I’d seen the birth certificate, and the story Luke laid out for me made sense, but I still wanted it to be untrue. However, I knew it was all true when I saw Layla or Erin’s face.
The pain in my chest is suffocating as I stare at her, hugging herself.
“Did you know me that first night at the party?” I ask, curious about how long this has gone on. “That night, that wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
Layla looks like I slapped her across the face as she looks up. Her hands withdraw from her sides, and one of them settles on her stomach. I can’t help the anger I feel burning in my bones. It all feels like a bad dream I’ll wake up from, only it was painfully real.
“No, I didn’t know it was you.” She shook her head, desperation in her quiet voice. “You spoke to me first that night, remember?”
