Page 16 of Beautiful Thing

My chest thumps at the image she paints in my head. I’m glad they’re making themselves at home.

Me: If you need anything, let me know.

Layla: I will. Thanks again for letting us stay here.

Me: It’s nothing.

Except that’s a lie. Layla and Sky, safe at my house? It’severythingto me.

With a little pep in my step, I open up the store and immediately get to work. As I zip around all day, I feel a strange flicker in my chest.

A sense of purpose. Stronger than I’ve ever felt before.

7

LAYLA

Ihad productive plans for today.

I’d planned to spend some time searching for affordable rentals in the area. And mapping out my budget. And figuring out a timeline to accomplish it all.

I’d planned to figure out a plan.

But when you’re a mom of a little one, you don’t determine the plans. They do.

I haven’t gotten a whole lot accomplished today. I’ve spent the whole day chasing Sky around and trying to keep him from touching every single thing inside Archer’s house.

At almost two years old, I was hoping he wouldn’t need much baby-proofing. But holy hell, the handsome lumberjack who lives here owns a whole lot of stuff that is not kid-safe. There are tools. And breakables. And expensive gadgets.

So I’ve been extra vigilant to keep Sky out of trouble.

On top of that, every time I manage to get five minutes to scroll through rental properties on my phone,Razor happens.

He’s been blowing up my phone.Texting and calling and leaving hurtful voice messages.

“Your life might as well be over.”

“No one is going to want you now.”

“It’s all downhill from here.”

When I block his contact, he calls me back from different phone numbers. When I ignore the phone calls, he resorts to calling me names and posting taunting memes on social media. It’s annoying and petty as hell, but that’s not even the part that bothers me.

A part of me is terrified that my ex is right. That what he says about my life being over is, well, true.That’s the thought that scares me the most.

I think back to when I first started dating Razor. My friends told me that getting into a serious relationship so young was a bad idea. That it wouldn’t last. That I’d regret it.

I laughed everyone off. I thought I’d be different. I’d makesureit was different.

But despite my best efforts, I failed.

Now I’m single and ‘used up’—according to Razor. Yet again, I find myself on the verge of bursting into tears. I close my eyes instead and quietly repeat the positive affirmations and mantras Ziggy texted me earlier today. I force myself to try and see my situation in an optimistic light.

Although my ex has left me with more emotional baggage than I’ll be able to unpack in this lifetime, he’s also left me with a beautiful little boy who is the center of my world. I love that kid more than life itself.

He’s my sun. He’s my moon. He’s my Sky.

Still the fact remains, I’m doubtful that I’ll ever get another chance at love. Every man my age is going to want someone who’s on their level. Someone who’s young and fresh and not emotionally damaged. No one is going to want me.

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