The Naked Truth

by Vi Keeland

  “We spent a few minutes together today talking. I watched her with you and Ella.”

  I shook my head. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

  “You see what you want to see in women, Gray. Always have. I guess it has something to do with your kind mother and losing her at such a tender age.”

  “What are you, Sigmund Fucking Freud? You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  And what the hell was I still doing standing here? I turned around and started to walk toward the door, never looking back as I spoke. “I’ll be here Sunday at noon to pick up Ella.”

  ***

  Layla had been quiet the entire ride back to Manhattan. I hadn’t noticed for three quarters of it because I was still steaming from my little conversation with Max. That woman had balls to try to tell me about my love life. I’d decided to keep her thoughts to myself, rather than unload them on Layla. There was no point in making the strain between her and Max worse.

  “You’re quiet.” I laced my fingers with hers as we exited the bridge. “Everything okay?”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her beautiful eyes. “Yeah. Just tired.”

  “Are you still up for going out to dinner?”

  “I’d actually rather stay in, if you don’t mind.”

  I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed it. “Whatever you prefer. While I love the idea of showing you off in a sexy dress, I’m a big proponent of naked Chinese, too.”

  I wasn’t even sure if she’d heard me. Layla seemed off in another place. She looked out the window and then turned to me. “Ella is amazing.”

  I smiled wide enough for both of us. “Am I a conceited bastard if I say I agree?”

  She genuinely smiled this time. “Not at all.”

  We pulled up outside of her apartment building, and I jogged around to her side of the car to open the door. Then I told my driver to take the rest of the night off.

  Helping Layla from the car, I explained. “I don’t plan on leaving tonight, unless you kick me out. And if that happens, I can take a cab.”

  Once we were upstairs, Layla disappeared into the bathroom, and I opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. Something about the way she was acting still seemed off to me, but I thought perhaps I was over-examining everything at this point because of the shit Max had planted in my head. That woman was pure fucking evil.

  I handed Layla a glass of wine when she came back to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much of anything this afternoon except that ice cream. Why don’t I order us something?”

  She sipped. “Sure. That sounds good.”

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Whatever. You can pick.”

  I took her wine glass from her hand and set it down on the kitchen counter, along with mine. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pulled her against me. “If you’re allowing me to pick whatever I’m in the mood for, you might go hungry.”

  I brushed her hair back from her face and waited until our eyes met. “Thank you for today. It meant a lot to me to get to spend time with my two girls together. But I’ll admit, as much as I enjoyed it and wouldn’t trade it for the world, I’m glad I have you all to myself right now.”

  “It won’t be that way when…I mean, it won’t be that way when Ella is living with you.”

  “I’ll have to soundproof the bedroom walls.” When she didn’t smile, I pulled back in order to examine her expressions better. “Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just got my period, so I’m feeling a little moody, I guess. Plus, I’m tired. My iron is probably a little low.”

  I wanted to believe it was nothing, so I didn’t push. After our wine, Layla took a shower and left me to pick out something to order for dinner. She’d directed me to the menu stack in her desk drawer and told me to be careful because the drawer was sometimes wobbly.

  Wobbly was an understatement. I pulled out the drawer, and the entire thing derailed from the track. The wooden bottom popped out, and the contents dumped all over the floor. At least twenty pounds of crap had been crammed into a drawer only meant to hold a few hanging files. I laughed and went to the kitchen to search for a screwdriver and some pliers.

  The fix was simple. Two screws had come loose that held in the bottom panel, and the drawer had been “wobbly” because one of the wheels that was supposed to roll along the track had come off. I put it all back together and started to pile the shit she had stored inside back in. There were some papers, manila folders, and a stack of notebooks. The top notebook had toppled off the stack and flipped over, landing with the back page open. Thinking nothing of it, I went to grab it, but one of the sentences on the page caught my attention.

  He lies.

  What the fuck was this now?

  I should have just closed the notebook and kept my nose out of Layla’s business. But I couldn’t shut it after seeing the word He. I’m a man—a possessive and jealous one, no less. So, like an asshole, I kept reading.

  He’s not dependable.

  My heart sank. Fuck.

  I’d landed right on one of her pros and cons lists. That had to be what all of the notebooks were. This one was right at the top, and the last damn page. It had to be recent.

  I reasoned with myself. It’s probably about something else. I’m jumping to conclusions.

  I’ll never be his priority.

  My hope dwindled as I continued.

  I’ll get hurt again.

  Fuck.

  Any hope that the list wasn’t about me went out the window when I read the last two.

  Never really wanted kids.

  I deserve more.

  Fuck. I stared at the paper and reread the last part again.

  I deserve more.

  She did. Layla deserved more than an ex-con with an ex-wife who’d just sprung a kid on him.

  I looked once more at the list, and it hit me that it was the last page of a notebook, and everything had been written on the right side of the page. There was a line drawn down the middle, but the entire left side was empty.

  No pros.

  Being a glutton for punishment, I turned the page to look at the other side and saw the headings. Pros at the top of the left, cons at the top of the right. Only on this side of the page, the con side wasn’t half full—it was filled to the fucking brim. And the pro side wasn’t empty either. There was one entry on the right.

  I love him, even though I don’t want to.

  “Gray?” Layla’s voice called from her bedroom.

  I hadn’t even noticed the water had shut off. I fumbled to shut the book and stick it back in the drawer.

  I shut my eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Did you order yet?”

  “No.”

  “What about sushi? Umi delivers pretty fast, and they have the best tuna sashimi. I don’t think I have the menu, but they have all the standard stuff.”

  “Sure. That’s fine.”

  I got up from where I’d been sitting to fix the drawer and snoop, wanting to give some thought to how to handle what I’d read before talking to Layla about it. The bottle of wine I’d opened was still on the counter, but I bypassed it and went to the few bottles of liquor I knew she kept in her closet. Pouring a double shot of Jack from a dusty bottle, I sucked it back in one gulp. It tasted like shit, but the burn felt good going down.

  I had another and poured a glass of wine before Layla walked out of the bedroom. She flipped on the kitchen light.

  “You’re just standing here in the dark?”

  I hadn’t noticed the sun had gone down, taking away all the illumination from the window. It must’ve been pretty damn dark.

  “Lost in thought, I guess.”

  Layla tilted her head. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “No. How about you?”

  Her eyes looked away. “No. Just a big day for both of us, I guess.”

  I nodded.

 
She played with her phone and then walked to stand beside me. “I found the menu online.”

  Her hair was wet and her face free of makeup. I looked over at her while she scrolled through and read the menu. The freckles I loved so much were more pronounced from this angle. I wanted to memorize the pattern for some reason.

  “Here.” She passed me her phone. “I’m going to get the seared ahi tuna. If you like the Amazing roll, I’ll split that with you, too.”

  My eyes could barely focus on the menu on her phone. They just kept wandering over to study her freckles. I couldn’t ever pinpoint what it was that I loved about them, but looking at her right now, I decided it might’ve been their girlish quality, which contradicted the strong woman. Layla hid them like she didn’t want anyone to see anything but the strength in her.

  God, she’s so fucking beautiful. So real, so intelligent, so…everything.

  “What do you think?” she said. “Do you like the stuff in the Amazing roll?”

  I hadn’t read a word of the menu. “Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll just get what you’re having.” I hit the telephone number on the screen of her phone and dug my wallet out of my pocket.

  “Can I place an order for delivery?”

  The woman asked what I wanted. But I’d already forgotten.

  I covered the phone. “What did you want again?”

  Layla’s face crinkled. “Seared ahi and the Amazing roll. I thought you wanted the same thing?”

  “Yeah. That’s right.”

  The rest of the night didn’t go much differently than my attempt at ordering. I couldn’t keep up with our conversation or even my own train of thought. The damn pros and cons list kept coming back to haunt me, as did Max’s words.

  I just wanted to grab Layla and hold her, tell her that her list was wrong. But the more I thought about her list, the more I realized it wasn’t so far off.

  He lies.

  There was no denying I’d fucked up with her by not telling her about Max right away. Trust took a long time to build and two seconds to tear down. I’d thought we were making progress, but…

  “You see what you want to see in women, Gray.” That’s what Max had said.

  I’ll never be his priority.

  While I’d like to think that she and Ella would be my top priorities, who was I kidding? Soon enough, I’d be a single dad to a devastated little girl. What would be my priority—taking Layla to dinner or staying home with my daughter?

  Never really wanted kids.

  We’d never even discussed a family. Stupidly, I’d assumed she wanted kids. But where was the basis for that assumption? She lacked respect for her own mother and father and the situation they’d raised her in.

  “You see what you want to see in women, Gray.”

  Shut the fuck up, Max.

  I deserve more.

  I couldn’t argue with that one. Layla deserved the world at her feet.

  Oddly, the one that hurt the most wasn’t even a con. It was the only thing she could come up with as a pro.

  I love him, even though I don’t want to.

  By the time Layla and I were ready to turn in, I’d had too much to drink and wanted to sleep just so I could pretend tonight never happened. Slipping into bed behind her, I wrapped my entire body around hers. My arms clutched tight around her waist, while my body curved to envelop hers. It couldn’t have been too comfortable for her, but I needed it.

  I really fucking needed it.

  Pressing my lips to her shoulder, I wanted to tell her everything she was concerned about was going to be fine. But I couldn’t be that selfish.

  Instead, I whispered. “I want you to be happy more than anything.”

  She turned in bed to face me. It was dark, but I could see her face.

  “Gray…I—”

  A cell phone ringing cut her off. It took a moment to realize it was coming from the end table on my side. My first reaction was to ignore it, let it go to voicemail. But then I remembered I had a daughter now.

  Reaching over and grabbing the phone, I tensed at seeing Max’s name on the screen. It was eleven o’clock at night. I sat up as I swiped to answer.

  “What’s up?”

  Her voice was shaky. “I just called an ambulance. I’m having a lot of trouble breathing.”

  Chapter 32

  * * *

  Gray

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Shhh…” I stroked Ella’s hair and swayed back and forth with her until her cries began to slow. The front of her hair was soaked with the tears she’d shed. It killed me to see her so upset. And I didn’t like having her in a germ-infested hospital waiting room while doctors finished with Max’s tests. But what choice did I have at one in the morning?

  Layla had come with me, even though I’d told her it wasn’t necessary. Looking at her face, I wished I’d tried a little harder to get her to stay. She looked freaked out, and I couldn’t blame her. I was fucking freaked out, too.

  When we’d arrived at the Emergency Room, the ambulance had already brought Max in, and a woman from Social Services was sitting with Ella. Max had stopped breathing twice in the ambulance on the way over—completely flatlined. They were able to revive her, but the reality of the situation smacked me right in the face. This is really happening. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon enough. And I wasn’t ready for it. Neither was the poor little girl in my arms.

  “Mr. Westbrook?” a doctor in blue scrubs called from the doorway of the waiting room.

  “That’s me.” I walked over, and Layla stood and joined me.

  “I’m Dr. Cohen, one of the oncology surgeons on staff here. Your wife is stabilized now. We’ve inserted a tube down her throat to help her breathe. One of her tumors is located near the esophagus, which caused some food particles to get stuck. Over time they’ve built up and caused swelling, which further compromised her air passage.”

  “So she’s going to be fine?”

  The doctor frowned. “For today. We’re hoping now that the passage has been cleared, her swelling will go down, and the tube can come out in a day or two. But I must make you aware that it’s just a Band-Aid, Mr. Westbrook.” His eyes drifted to Ella in my arms.

  Her eyes were wide open, but she was just staring into space without blinking. I wasn’t sure if she was listening, much less comprehending what we were talking about, but he obviously wanted to be frank and felt he couldn’t.

  I flashed my eyes to the doctor, then Ella, then back to him, acknowledging that we’d do our best to speak in code. “Can the blockage be cleared permanently?”

  “She has an advanced directive. The typical methods we might try are not available to us.”

  Translation—Max had legally called it quits.

  “Okay.”

  “We have had some success with PDT—photodynamic therapy. A light-activated drug is injected, which collects more cancer cells than normal ones. Then a scope is put down the throat and into the lungs, and a laser light kills the cells we’ve collected. A few days later, we go back in and collect those dead cells. It’s an option, but as of now, not one we have consent for. Perhaps you can talk to her about it once she’s off the ventilator. For now, we’ll need to take it one day at a time. As I said, your wife is stable, so you should probably go home and get some rest. She has some personal belongings with her that you can take or have locked in the hospital safe before you go.”

  “Max is my ex-wife. But thank you for everything, Doctor.”

  After he left, Layla looked down at Ella in my arms. “She fell asleep during that.”

  “Oh good.”

  Layla kept staring at Ella while shaking her head. “I knew it would be tough on her. But seeing her today…” She paused. “She’s going to be devastated. You’re going to become her world, Gray.”

  The contents of that damn notebook flashed back to me.

  Never really wanted kids.

  I’ll never be his priority.

  I looked down. “I know.”
/>
  I checked in on Max one more time and picked up the few personal items she had with her—house keys, a small wallet, and a necklace they had taken off of her neck. After the last few weeks, I didn’t think anything could shock me anymore. But holding what Max wore around her neck left me speechless once again. Her wedding band. We’d bought matching ones from the guy who’d married us down in the DR.

  After, we hailed a cab, and I managed to climb in without waking Ella. All three of us were quiet as we pulled away from the curb. The weight of everything was too much to fight my way through for any type of meaningful discussion.

  “I’m thinking I should take her to her house to sleep. She’s never been to my place, and it might help if she wakes up in her own room. Max’s house keys were in the envelope with her other belongings.”

  “Oh. Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was separate from Layla. I could feel the distance between us in the backseat of the cab, even. Physical separation would only make it worse—give her time to think about how fucked up her life would soon be if she stuck with me. But asking her to sleep at my ex-wife’s house was a lot.

  I treaded lightly. “Should we drop you off?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  The quiet stretched the rest of the drive to Layla’s. Her hand was on the door handle before we even pulled to the curb.

  “I have a meeting tomorrow in Connecticut. But let me know how things are.”

  “Will do.”

  She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. It wasn’t like I could move with a tiny human wrapped around me. “Goodnight.”

  Layla was halfway out the door when I started to panic. “Layla, wait…”

  Turning back, she looked at me. If I’d had any doubt that I loved her before, I was damn certain in this moment. For some reason, it felt like I shouldn’t let her get out of the car.

  Remind her you love her.

  Remind her you love her, you pussy.

  “I…I…Thanks for today. And tonight. I appreciate you sticking around with me at the hospital.”

  She smiled sadly. “Of course.”

  “Good night, Freckles. Flick the bedroom light on so I know you’re in okay.”