Laya
LAYA
A chill washes over me, and I tug the bed sheet tighter around me as I roll my lip between my teeth, missing the feel of his soft skin. Rolling over, I move to snuggle against him, but the bed is cold, and the feel of his loss makes me sit up in awareness and search the room for a sign that he slept here. Not once since being home has he ever not fallen asleep next to me, and I hate whatever pulled him away.
Maybe he’s with Romeo?
I turn to face the baby monitor and flick the switch up to hear the soft snooze of our son, and a smile creeps over my face as warmth fills my body at how blessed I am to have such a good little sleeper. My hand finds my stomach as longing fills me. To have a pregnancy with the support of my husband and being surrounded by my family and friends feels like a dream, one that could actually happen.
Reaching over again, I flick the switch on the monitor, but like an idiot with sleepy eyes, I misjudge it, sending it crashing to the floor. “Shit.”
With a heavy breath, I swipe the sleep from my eyes and roll out of bed. Bending down, I shove the batteries back into the monitor and static fills the monitor. “You’re an idiot, .” I give it a sharp tap, and when voices come over the monitor, I listen in.
Tate’s voice fills the room. “You’re right.” He sighs. “Fuck. You’re right.” There’s a pause, and I narrow my eyes while my mind whirls at what they could be discussing. “It makes me wish I could have killed him myself, ya know?” His words make my blood run cold, and my body freezes.
“I know. Trust me, I know.” Owen’s voice is thick with aggression. “When I ordered him to die, I should have made it more brutal.”
And like that, my world crumbles into a million pieces.
My heart shatters on the spot as I kneel.
He ordered him to die.
Please, no.
My lungs feel like they’re collapsing as my airways tighten to the point of pain.
Please. He couldn’t have.
I gasp for air, dazed by the tears landing on my knees.
It feels like I’m becoming detached from myself, like I’m unable to function.
He wouldn’t do this to me.
To Romeo.
Then his words come back to haunt me. “Anything to keep you.” I rush toward the bathroom in time for my stomach to expel the contents of our dinner.
He did this.
My husband killed a man to take what he wanted, and he’s not even sorry about it.
Tears stream down my face as my love for him shatters to the floor with every promise, every loving touch, and every dream of a future.
A pain in my chest unleashes so powerful I fall onto all fours as I choke on the onslaught of my realization.
While I thought I knew Owen and every part of him, realizing I never knew him at all is devastating beyond anything I’ve ever felt before.
The man I love killed my baby’s father to take what he wanted.
To take us.