Liam will be overjoyed when I tell him that I’m pregnant. We’ve been trying for so long, while not as long as some, to me it feels like years. Knowing how he is with Eden, I’m confident Liam will excel with a newborn. I have so many thoughts of him rocking our baby to sleep or singing him, or her, a lullaby that he writes especially for them... although I may have to censor his lyrics.
The airline attendant walks by, asking if I need anything. It’s late, but drinking orange juice seems like the right thing to do. Flying First Class has its perks: More legroom and hip room, more choice on the menu and constant service. Not to mention the fact that the bathroom is closer.
After my appointment this afternoon, I went to Nick’s office. He knows I’ve been under stress and knows that I’m missing Liam. I had to take him up on his offer to look after Noah so that I can see Liam, even if it ends up only being for a few hours. I joked that Nick has all the benefits of a divorced dad, but without the financial obligation. Only he proved me wrong in that respect because he and Aubrey do their fair share of providing for Noah, even without being asked. Nick and I breaking up was probably the best thing to happen to either of us.
When you have time to kill, like when waiting for your flight, you tend to let your mind wander or, in my case, you take advantage of the stores in the terminal. This is what I did, and I’ve made a mistake with my purchase. The tell-all book about Liam sits in my lap. Something told me I needed to finish it and having left mine at home, I bought another copy. I haven’t opened it yet, though. It sits in my lap, weighing me down and taunting me.
The flight attendant returns with my juice, nodding toward the book and asks, “Are you reading that?”
How do I answer? Yes, I’ve read some, but not sure if I want to read anymore? Do I tell her Liam’s my husband and I’m trying to fill in the missing ten years from his life because we don’t talk about the time he was away?
“I’ve read some,” I tell her.
She crouches down next to me. “I read it. I had to. I have the biggest crush on Liam Page, but I have to tell you, I find most of this book as complete garbage.”
I like her. I want to tell her who I am, but she won’t believe me. Living in Beaumont has kept me sheltered from the media, and they don’t dare take our pictures in town. I think I’ve been in the press maybe three or four times and, at best, they’re grainy images.
“I’m finding it a little hard to read myself.”
“I’m waiting for his press release about Layla Richards’ daughter. I’m sure now that the book is out, he won’t be able to deny her anymore.”
I gasp and cover my mouth. She shakes her head. “It’s such a shame, too. I mean, he has a son as well, and now a daughter. He’s such a Hollywood cliché.”
I feel my skin becoming clammy as I listen to her words. “Excuse me,” I say, as I stand. “I need to use the restroom.” I drop the book in my seat and sidestep her. The stupid smile that’s plastered all over her face makes me want to kick something. Right now I’d like to kick Liam.
Once I’m inside the tiny stall, I slide the latch and the light comes on overhead. I wish I could shut it off because I don’t want to see myself in the mirror. The ugliness of Liam’s career is starting to eat away at me. Every time I turn around someone has a bomb to drop or a secret to expose, and those bombs and secrets are turning out be deadly.
I don’t know how long I’m in the restroom, but a knock tells me my time is up. The flight attendant is standing there with a cup of Ginger Ale in her hand. I want to hate her, but she didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not her fault that my former boyfriend turned husband did some crap that’s coming back to bite him in the ass.
If Liam and Layla have a child, I can’t be mad... we weren’t together. He moved on, and so did I. He didn’t know about Noah. If he had, he would’ve come back. He would’ve been there for Noah, even if he couldn’t be there for me.
Opening the book, I scan the table of contents for Layla’s name and flip to her chapter. She has a whole freaking chapter when all I have is mentions of a woman who blackmailed him into marriage. I can only bring myself to skim the sentences until I find “daughter”.
In my reporting, I uncovered that Liam Page entered into a romantic relationship with Layla Richards shortly after arriving (we’re talking days, people) in Los Angeles. The pair met at the famed Metro club after being introduced by his best friend and drummer, Harrison James.
I was unable to track down Layla Richards, but did speak to her former husband who had this to say about Liam Page: “I hated that fucker. He knew Layla and I were married and he still chased after her. Their drug induced affair produced a child that I wanted nothing to do with.”
At the time of print, Layla Richards’ daughter is eleven years old.