His body was so tense, so tightly wound as he stood listening to what I said. “How do I do that, Layla? I’ve been looking out for people my entire life . . . I don’t know how to stop, and fuck, I don’t know if I want to stop. I need to know they’re okay.”
I gave him a smile. “You don’t have to stop looking out for them, Donovan. You just need to realise that not everything is going to go your way or their way.” I paused, and then added softly, “And you need to forgive yourself. The bad things that happen to the people you love are not your fault. You can’t control everything so don’t beat yourself up over that stuff.”
He took all that in but I knew it would take him a lot more than simply hearing what I’d said to act on it. All I could hope was that he would process it and, in time, find a healthy way to deal with it. Until then, I’d be here for him every step of the way, loving him and doing my best to soothe his pain.
Pulling me to him, he put his arms around me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Thank Christ I have you,” he murmured and then pulled back a little so he could see my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stick around, even if my shit gets too much.”
I placed my hand on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Donovan Brookes. That’s the only sure thing I know in this world.”
4
Chapter Four
Harlow
I stood at my kitchen counter, beating cake batter to make cakes for tomorrow’s party, listening to Lisa tell me about her day, and all I could think was ‘I can’t go to this Christmas party’. Dread filled me at the thought of having to face everyone, and answer their questions and see their sadness and try to explain myself and -
“Harlow!” Lisa pretty much yelled at me as she clicked her fingers in front of me. “Are you listening to me?”
Dragging my thoughts back to the conversation, I attempted to give her my full attention. Easier said than done these days. My attention didn’t want to be on anything these days; it wanted to sink as far into obscurity as it could.
“Sorry, honey. Can you say that again?” Lisa deserved more than what I could give her at the moment, and a pang of remorse hit me. I’ll do better.
She sighed in the way an adult sighs. It was so Lisa; so grown up for a child, but then again she was more mature than most children her age. Her mother saw to that. “I said that Scott is being so strange at the moment and I was wondering if you knew why.”
More remorse hit me and I switched the beater off so I could focus completely on the conversation. “In what way is he being strange?”
“So many ways!” Her voice rose and her eyes widened as she detailed it for me. Lisa loved Scott like a father and I could see how concerned she was for him. “Like, you know how the three of us usually go out for dinner every Thursday night? The last couple of weeks he’s been telling me you’re not well so you couldn’t make it to dinner, but you’re not sick, even I can tell that. And apart from Thursday nights, I’ve hardly seen him but then this week, I’ve seen him every day. And he’s been talking a lot, and I mean, a lot. Scott hardly talks, so it’s weird.”
My hand went to my chest to hold the heaviness there. Scott. He didn’t deserve any of this. My inability to deal with my loss was affecting him as much, if not more, than the loss of our baby. And as much as I knew this, and felt it – oh God, how I felt it – I couldn’t bring myself to work through this in any other way than I was.
“So?” Lisa put her hand on her hip and looked up at me expectantly. Her look said that she expected me to have the answers for her.
“What has he been saying?” I didn’t have the answers for her because Scott and I hadn’t been connecting. In fact, it seemed he was talking more to her than me at the moment, and I was interested to hear what he’d said.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Scott entered the kitchen at that moment and the sound of his heavy boots on the wood floor and his intense presence filled the room, distracting both of us. His eyes were focused on me when I found them, and a shiver ran through my body at the way he was watching me, at the way his stare demanded my attention. And I knew something had changed in him.
Turning to look at Lisa, he said, “Lisa, do you mind if I have some time with Harlow?”
Lisa frowned. “As in, you want me to go home?” She didn’t sound put out; she simply needed to know what he meant.
He nodded. “Yeah. I know you two were baking, but I need to speak with her now, and it can’t wait.”
“Sure,” she said with an easy smile and began taking steps toward the front door. Looking back at me, she asked, “Can we do some more baking on Sunday, Harlow? I want to make biscuits for Christmas presents and I need your help decorating them.”