“Yes, or any of the other stuff pregnant chicks do like shop for baby shit or eat or do that nesting thing where you reorganize your house.”
I’ve already done all that. And redone it. I push up and arrange papers that don’t need arranging. “There’re still some things I’m sure we need to go over like . . .” I run my eyes over the desk, even turn to peek into Cameron’s office. “Hm . . . there’s got to be something.”
“Layla, stop.”
I open my mouth to protest, but learned long ago that arguing with Eve is an auto-lose situation. “Fine.”
She blinks down at the floor where my purse is, but quickly brushes off whatever she’s thinking. “Look, you’re welcome to hang out as long as you want, but you don’t have to do it teaching me stuff. We can—” Her gaze darts back to my purse. “You gonna get that?”
“Hm?” I pretend that I don’t hear the incessant buzzing of my phone, even though it’s been ringing every hour since six a.m. “No, it’s probably nothing.”
Her eyes pull into tight slits. “How do you know that? It could be important.”
The phone continues to buzz. “Nah, Blake’s here. He knows where to find me and Axelle’s in class.”
The buzzing stops, only to start up again.
Eve locks eyes with me, and the phone’s vibration suddenly seems like a roar.
“Oh for the love of God.” She grabs my purse and fishes out my phone.
I snag the purse back by the strap a little too eagerly, which only tightens her stare.
She hits the screen and puts the phone to her hear. “Hello?”
Shit!
Her eyes widen a little. “Yes, I’m listening.”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I reach for the phone, but she turns and jumps up from her seat faster than my big ole body can move.
Dammit!
“Yeah, go on.”
This is it. Eve’s going to find out, tell Blake, and he’ll lose his shit and open a whole new world of what the fuck right before I have this baby. I can’t handle this. I don’t want anything to do with any of this.
Her body turns slowly, and her eyes are wide on mine. “I’m going to have to get back to you on that.” A few beats of silence. “Okay, bye.” She hits End and moves back into her seat, falling back hard and letting her head drop back. “Whoa.”
“Eve, listen, I can explain . . .” But no words come out of my mouth.
Her head lulls to the side. “He says he’s Axelle’s dad.” Her voice is a whisper, and I could hug her for her discretion. Lord knows it’s not her usual MO, but the fire of anger keeps my arms locked to my sides.
“I figured.”
“Do you remember him?” She’s still whispering.
“I don’t even know his name. I haven’t been answering the calls, and the one time I did I hung up the second I realized he . . .” I drop my head into my hands and force back the burn of tears. I won’t cry over this. I refuse to shed another tear. What’s done is done and it brought me my daughter. I can’t find it in my heart to regret that.
“His name is Trip Miller.”
My breath freezes in my lungs. Trip? My high school crush? The guy I went out of my way to impress, but wouldn’t give me the time of day?
“I take it you know him?”
I nod and get lost in my memories. The night I got pregnant with Axelle I went to that party looking for him. I drank and drank, and he never seemed to even notice I was there. He wasn’t even friends with Stewart. How did he end up . . .? Bile rushes into my throat.
I cup my mouth with my hand. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
She moves quickly, pulling me to my feet and helping me to the ladies’ restroom down the hallway. I race into a stall and vomit everything I’d eaten that day until there’s nothing left but spit.
I don’t want to do this. “I don’t want to face this.” Not now.
“I know, Layla, I do, but sooner or later you’re going to have to.”
I didn’t even realize she was so close, but feel the tug of her holding my hair back. I shake my head and wait for another rush of puke that never comes then drop back on my ass, leaning against the adjacent wall.
“This doesn’t make any sense. We barely spoke five words to each other.” Especially after I ended up a pregnant teenager. He avoided me completely after that bomb dropped. Is this why? “How could he do this to me?” Tears fall in streams down my cheeks as the weight of betrayal sets in.
I was asleep, totally drugged, and he took advantage of me. I thought I loved Trip back then, at that age all love feels like the deepest kind of love. And he treated me like some piece of pass-around *.
And now he’s claiming to be Axelle’s father? What the hell brought that on?
Images of him flash behind my eyes: his deep blue eyes and brown shaggy hair. I remember it was so thick, the kind that women would die to have . . . just like Axelle’s.
A sob rips from my chest.
“That’s it. I’m going to get Blake.” She moves to leave.
“No!” Panic floods my veins and I try to push myself to standing. “No, please don’t.”