Chapter 13
Layla
KIERAN
what are you doing?
LAYLA
reading
KIERAN
what are you reading?
LAYLA
you really want to know?
KIERAN
of course I do
LAYLA
it’s a romance book
KIERAN
do they love each other?
LAYLA
very much but they’re not aware of it yet
KIERAN
how do you know they’re in love before the characters do?
LAYLA
the signs
KIERAN
signs?
LAYLA
yearning, Kieran. the man is yearning
KIERAN
I yearn for you
LAYLA
me and every other woman in Colorado
KIERAN
no, just you
only you
That’s the eleventh time the receptionist has side-eyed me.
It was obvious she knew who Kieran is, and by the small furrow in her brow, she’s wondering how he’s connected to Emmy.
I’m not sure how he has been able to keep it under wraps, but the press hasn’t gotten wind of Emmy and Kieran’s newfound situation.
Something tells me, though, that this woman is about to cross a lot of professional lines.
By the way her thumbs are flying across her phone’s keyboard, I think she already has.
The therapist’s door suddenly opens, yanking my thoughts away from the receptionist now craning her neck to get another glimpse of Kieran.
“Layla?” Kieran asks gently, holding Bambi’s lead in his hand.
I can feel the receptionist’s eyes boring into the back of my skull as I rise and enter the office.
The speech therapist is bent low to the right, setting Emmy up in what appears to be a corner of her office where a rainbow of colors and toys has thrown up, catered to the children.
The other half of the office is professional and sleek.
Kieran lets go of Bambi’s lead the moment I close the door behind me and she immediately rushes for Emmy’s side.
He gives me a small smile but it’s more a grimace than anything else.
The sight of it makes me nervous for what I’m about to hear.
I take a seat beside him in front of the therapist’s desk.
“Thank you so much for waiting,” the therapist says as she nods her head in Emmy and Bambi’s direction. “Those two have a very special bond.”
“I’ve never been more grateful for my best friend and his dog.”
“Bambi’s special,” I add on.
She nods along. “Very special. She could have been a service dog. She’s very in tune with Emmy and her emotions.”
Her voice is like honey. Based on that, I’d think she was in her early thirties, but by the gray hair and wrinkles that tell a story of a life well lived, I’m guessing she’s closer to fifty.
She offers me a warm smile as she pushes her black framed reading glasses on the top of her head. “Kieran was telling me that you’ve been a great asset in helping Emmy settle into her home.”
My cheeks flame. “Oh, I wouldn’t—”
“Yes, she has,” Kieran cuts in smoothly.
Dr. Singh’s smile grows. “Well, I’ll take his word for it. Now, Kieran informed me that she spoke with you?”
“She just told me her name. It took a lot of coaxing though.”
“That’s wonderful she offered it though. I’ll get to know Emmy’s personality through our sessions, but until I do, I want those spending time with Emmy to try various exercises and see which ones spark the most improvement.”
“What exactly should we be looking for?” Kieran asks, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees.
“Music for example, perhaps as you cook or drive in the car. See if you get a reaction, like a foot tap or a head bop, and if you do, dive down that avenue. I’ve always made great progress with children through music and she might surprise you.”
“Music, got it. I’ll try all the genres.”
Dr. Singh’s lips twitch. “I’m very happy to hear how dedicated you are to helping Emmy.”
“I’ll do anything for her.”
I swallow thickly at the vow in his words. “What other exercises should we try?” I ask.
“Reading, make-believe games, puppets… Honestly, anything that is a creative expression in any capacity.” Dr. Singh looks over at Emmy, watching as she plays with two dolls. “She does seem to be drawn to dolls. Perhaps try and talk through them with her, see if she joins you.”
Nodding along, I take a mental note of everything.
“And just…” She sighs before turning her gaze back to us. “Children, whether they speak or not, are aware. You may not think they’re listening but they are, so talk to her like she’s a friend. Treat her as if she is speaking.”
“And you’re certain there’s nothing medically stopping her from talking?” Kieran asks.
“After my examinations I’m more than certain there is no physical trauma that has led to Emmy’s silence. It sadly seems to be psychological.” She rises from her chair, making Kieran and me follow her lead.
Rounding the desk, she places her hand on Kieran’s shoulder and lowers her voice.
“She has suffered a serious traumatic event, Mr. Ashford, and that’s just the experience we know of.
We don’t know the environment or conditions of parenting she was raised in.
Give her time to learn that she’s safe with you. ”
Kieran seems to have a hard time swallowing those words but nods all the same before squaring his shoulders and extending his hand. “Thank you, Dr. Singh. I’ll see you next week.”
“I’m looking forward to getting to know Emmy more,” she says gently before turning my way. “And please do tell Kieran how the games go so he can pass the information along to me.”
“Of course, I’m more than happy to keep a journal as well. That way, I won’t forget anything.” I laugh nervously. “This is too important to be playing telephone.”
Dr. Singh chuckles at that, the light and airy sound drawing Emmy’s attention. “That’s very true. A journal is a wonderful idea.”
Kieran’s been white-knuckling the steering wheel since he slid into the driver’s seat.
He’s also changed radio stations after every song to try every genre as he said he would.
Kieran Ashford, a man of his word. His gaze is constantly flicking from the road to the rearview mirror to check for any signs Emmy enjoys something she hears.
There’s a hint of desperation, as if he’s praying for something, anything, to let him know which direction to take in order to help her, and I don’t blame him. Just knowing that Emmy has chosen not to speak… The ideas my mind conjures up are utterly heartbreaking.
What happened to her to make her silent? Will we ever know?
Kieran’s thoughts must be diving down the same twisted turns mine have because as he pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, he just sits there, gazing out the window.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching over and squeezing his bicep.
At the flutter that works its way through my heart, I quickly retract my hand and whisper, “I’ll bring her inside. Take your time.”
He shakes his head as I slide out of the truck. “No, I’m okay—”
“No you’re not, and Emmy can probably tell. Take a minute for yourself. I’ve got her.”
Opening the back door, I unbuckle Emmy from her car seat, hugging her extra tight as she wraps her arms around my neck. Bambi jumps out of the car too, and I look across the street, chewing on my bottom lip.
Kieran, observant as always, drawls, “It’s okay. I can walk her across the road.”
“Are you sure?”
He dips his head.
“Okay,” I whisper before turning to Emmy. “Say goodbye to Bambi.”
I kneel so she can pat Bambi, and her tongue lolls out as Emmy reaches for her, her small hand stroking her fluffy head and ears. Their love for each other makes it hard to tear the two apart, even though it’s only for a night. They’ll be attached at the hip again come tomorrow morning.
Kieran’s still in the driver seat, his gaze fixed out the window, a faraway look entering his beautiful ocean blue eyes.
Is it bad that I want to hug my boss?
Sighing, I rise, coaxing Bambi in the backseat again to keep Kieran company as he processes the emotions wreaking havoc on his heart. I give him one last look over my shoulder before making my way inside and getting to work on bath time.
Kieran doesn’t come inside for forty minutes. His shoulders are looser and there isn’t as much tension lining his features as earlier, yet I can’t help but note that he still isn’t his charismatic self.
With Emmy nestled on the couch, sucking her thumb as she cuddles the golden retriever teddy and watches Paw Patrol, I meet Kieran halfway and stop before him. He sighs heavily. “I’m sorry about earlier. My thoughts just… I needed to ground myself a little.”
“Don’t apologize, please. It’s a lot to take in. You need to take care of yourself just as much as Emmy.”
He nods, his gaze locked on mine, and I can tell he wants to say something. But why is he holding back?
Our breaths line up, our chests rising and falling in sync as we stand in his living room, utterly silent save for the TV.
Kieran’s eyes have always been magnetic, have been something I’ve tried to avoid for the fear of never being able to look away, but as he stands before me with his heart on his sleeve, I find I don’t want to.
His voice is as rough as gravel as he asks, “Can you stay? For dinner?” Before I can give him an answer, he seems to shake himself before striding past me, walking deeper into the house and toward the kitchen. “You must be starving!”
I didn’t realize there was so much tension crackling between us until he left. Now I feel like a deflated balloon. Trailing after him, I ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to spend some alone time with Emmy?”
He pops his head out of the kitchen, that mischievousness returning ever so slowly with his grin. “That little girl adores you. If you go home, you’ll make her sad.”
I point an accusatory finger at him. “Laying it on thick, are we?”
He winks. “Always when it comes to you.”
I bite my lower lip, knowing there’s no reason for me to stay and yet a part of me wanting to anyway. “What are you cooking?” I find myself asking.
“What would convince you to stay?”
Rolling my eyes, I make my way around the corner to find him frowning at the inside of his pantry.