Chapter Twelve Layla
Chapter Twelve
Layla
Grant: I left you groceries at the door. They didn’t have the coconut boba you wanted, so that’ll arrive via Prime tomorrow morning.
Grant: And took the full trash bag out.
Grant: Also signed us up for a birth course.
Layla: Thank you, thank you, and I mastered the art of breathing, which is all they do there. I don’t think I need any pointers.
Grant: You sure? You might feel differently when a watermelon-sized human plows its way out of a place in your body usually too narrow to host my dick.
Layla: TBH the watermelon is probably not as thick.
Layla: Kidding. Okay. I’ll go.
Grant: We’ll* go.
Layla: ?
Layla: Do you have plans with watermelons you want to tell me about?
Grant: Emotional support, baby. Better get used to it.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked Maddie as she parallel parked her Range Rover in front of Grant’s apartment.
“Yeah. I’ve done it before. Chase just says to pull up parallel to the car in the front and match the steering wheel to its position.”
“No, I mean showing up at Grant’s place unannounced.”
We were both nursing a huge fountain soda and Wetzel pretzel.
I allowed myself a Diet Coke once a week now.
I knew it wasn’t the best thing I could put inside my body, but that could also be said about all the fuckboys I’d slept with prior to Grant.
If I could survive them, the baby could survive this. It was all about balance.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Maddie killed the engine and flung her bag over her shoulder.
Her Range Rover was at least ten inches too deep into the road.
“He literally invited you to live with him. This is your apartment now just as much as it is his. You broke your dang lease. Besides, we need to take some measurements for the baby’s room. ”
This was true. And since I was terrible at measuring anything that wasn’t how much food I could eat at Thanksgiving before my zipper exploded, I’d brought Mads as reinforcement. She’d picked me up armed with a measuring tape and a big book full of wallpaper samples.
We got out of the car, and I punched in the combination to enter the building.
I had to admit that I liked that I was moving into such a secure place.
We walked inside and took the first flight of stairs to Grant’s apartment.
My heart thumped inside my chest. I hadn’t seen him in four days.
Not since we had Thai curry together and finished binge-watching a reality TV show about glassblowing.
I was sick with longing. I missed him every moment I wasn’t next to him at this point, and I was waiting for his move to Minnesota, because then I could finally cut the cord and go cold turkey.
It was a Wednesday evening, and I hadn’t told Grant I was coming. There was every chance he’d be there. I knew he wouldn’t mind me dropping by, but it still felt like a breach of privacy.
My best friend was right, though. If I wanted this to work, I needed to stop feeling like an intruder in his life. I’d spoken about this with Dr. Lopez, who’d told me putting my faith in Grant was a leap that showed I was truly healing.
I stopped in front of his door. Took a deep breath. Then another one. Then another twelve.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Maddie piped up behind me. “No pressure at all, though. I’ll wait. It’s not like I have a human the size of a bowling ball using my bladder as a cushion.”
“Okay, okay.” I punched in the combination to his door, and the lock made a mechanical sound. I pushed the door open. Stepped inside.
My heart lodged inside my throat at what I saw in front of me.
I couldn’t breathe.
Jessica, the pretty doctor from the cafeteria, was in a tiny pair of beige shorts and a matching Alo Yoga sweatshirt, and looked right at home. She was standing next to Grant, too close for comfort, laughing at something he’d said.
Grant wasn’t that funny.
I mean, he was, but his humor was drier than a vermouthless martini.
I froze. I’d never felt this way before. Like someone had taken a rusty knife and sliced my gut open, top to bottom. It hurt so bad to see her here that I could hardly breathe.
Up until now, I’d tortured myself with theories about Grant and Jessica.
Now, I had a confirmation. How many times had she been here before and after I was?
Did they have sex? Did he do that thing where he closed her legs together and swung them to one side of his shoulder while penetrating her? Did she like that too?
Bile made its way up my throat.
“Hey, roomie.” Grant was the first to notice me. He stalked toward the door, just when Maddie had pushed her way past me to let herself inside. My best friend took one glance at Jessica, then me, and immediately understood the situation.
“Hi, George.” Grant leaned to kiss my still mostly flat belly, then stood up to flick my nose. “Hi, George’s mom.”
“Don’t make me kill you,” I warned.
“How are you, Mads?” Grant kissed my best friend’s cheek.
“Better than you’ll be in a second,” she predicted. “Are we interrupting anything?” Maddie tugged the measuring tape and wallpaper catalog from her colorful thrift shop bag as she swaggered deeper into the apartment.
“Not at all. Jessica was just leaving.” Grant unhooked her coat from the hanger. “Dr. Shaffer was kind enough to drop off a brochure for an apartment complex in Rochester, since I didn’t make it to Minnesota to check out properties.”
This sounded completely reasonable. Professional, even. But I knew that for Jessica, it was an excuse. I saw it in her body language. In her eager smile. In the way she’d chosen to wear something the toddlers in my classroom could barely squeeze into.
She wanted him, and women like her always got what they wanted.
It was only a matter of time. Grant was excited with the idea of becoming a father, because he was inherently good, but the child wasn’t going to fill all the functions he needed in his life. He deserved intimacy and partnership: someone to spend his life with. Jessica was a perfect candidate.
“Oh, yes! Sorry, I got caught up in office gossip.” Jessica picked up her bag from the floor and winked at me good-naturedly, dangling her hips on her way toward the door. “Layla, how are you feeling? Grant told me about your little accident.”
Maddie’s head snapped to Jessica in a flash, wrath igniting in her pupils. “I wouldn’t call it an accident. An accident is when a surgeon over-slopes your nose bridge during a rhinoscopy.” Her eyes scanned Jessica’s obvious nose job, her voice honeyed. “This is more of a . . . happy surprise.”
“I’m feeling okay, thank you,” I said curtly. “And yourself?”
“Fabulous.” Jessica ignored Maddie’s quip. “I am so excited for both of you. Grant always wanted to be a dad. Don’t worry, I plan to be there for you two every step of the way.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I flashed her a sugary smile. I had a feeling the real event Jessica wanted to partake in had already taken place—and it was the conception.
The four of us stood there for a long moment, basking in the awkwardness of it all.
“All righty then! I’ll be out of your hair now. Thanks so, so much for the coffee offer, Grant.” She stopped next to him to kiss his cheek. “Rain check tomorrow, huh?” She winked before slinking back into the dusky evening.
Subtle as a tank, this one. But the message was clear: Hands off my man.
If only she knew I’d also used my mouth, tongue, and other parts on him at one point.
Maddie’s eyes ping-ponged between Grant and me.
“I’m going to go ahead and take those measurements in the room you assigned for the baby.
” She jerked her thumb toward the foyer.
“I’ll be back in about twenty minutes. Layla, let me know if you need anything.
Grant—good luck with surviving this.” She brushed a hand over my arm before making herself scarce.
Grant and I stared at each other. He looked completely oblivious to the fact that his colleague had just metaphorically pissed all over his leg to mark her territory.
It was all coming to a head now.
I was falling for my baby daddy. And I couldn’t stop it. Not even if he moved to Minnesota. Not even if he moved to Mars. The feelings were here to stay.
In his defense, I did work really hard at never showing him a hint of jealousy.
Jealousy was a weakness, so I tried very hard not to feel it. And when I did—I made sure to hide it.
“You all packed up?” He brushed his shoulder past mine and swanned to the kitchen, where he cracked open the fridge and took out two alcohol-free beers. Because if I was going to suffer, he sure as hell would too. “I was thinking of renting a U-Haul an—”
“I can’t move in with you,” I blurted out.
He froze, the beers still in his hands. “Is this about the decomposition odor from the communal trash? Because I already told you the hedge fund guy upstairs got arrested.”
“No.” I shook my head. It was time to come clean. “It is about my self-preservation.”
“Okay.” He kicked the door to the fridge closed before turning to glare at me. “I’m eager to hear how moving into a remodeled twenty-eight-hundred-square-foot Central Park South apartment and paying zero rent will ruin your life.”
“I need to have a stress-free pregnancy.” I leaned a shoulder against the wall, hugging myself. “If I get too emotional, too distraught, it could be really bad for the baby, and I have to put it first.”
“What exactly is stressful about living with me?” He cocked his head sideways.
“I’m barely home, and when I am, I’m either on the rowing machine, cooking, or trying to give you an orgasm.
And I’m happy to lay down some rules if you don’t want me to hit on you.
We don’t have to be sexual. I think I proved I can keep my hands to myself. ”
“I don’t want to interrupt whatever you have going on with Jessica.”
He stared at me like I’d just punched my stomach before shooting meth into my veins.
“Where is this coming from?”