Page 20 of Second Draft

Layla,

I can’t do this.

I’m sorry.

Stay in the house as long as you need.

-Travis

That’s it. No long apology. No excuses. Just the cold, brutal fact that he doesn’t want to be a part of his child’s life.

My fingers flutter over my still flat stomach, and I let out a long uneven breath. When I left for work this morning I never thought he would just up and leave.

“So that’s it,” I mutter, feeling the first pricks of tears at the back of my eyes. I swipe them away angrily.

I don’t know why I’m crying. Travis was at best a friend, but there was never anything more between us. Just one stupid night that meant nothing.

And he’s right. He isn’t mature enough to be a father. Maybe he never will be.

I flinch when I hear the front door open and shut, and the footsteps behind me.

“Layla?” Carter’s deep voice is full of concern.

I take a deep breath, then let it out slowly before turning around.

Carter’s face tightens, and he takes the remaining steps that separate us. “What’s wrong?”

Not trusting my voice, I don’t say anything, just hand him the note.

His eyes graze over the words, and his expression goes from concerned to furious.

“Fuck.” His fist balls over the note, and for a second it looks like he’s ready to hit something. A few deep breaths and he turns back to me. “I didn’t think he’d leave so quickly. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” I try to act casual, like I’m not completely freaking out inside. But I have no clue what I’m going to do.

I have some money in savings. Enough for a down payment for first and last month’s rent somewhere not too expensive. But neither of my jobs, waitressing at the diner, or managing the bookstore, have any medical coverage.

Then there’s all the other expenses that come with babies.

I rub my eyes with my palms and shake my head. There’s still time for me to think about all that. Right now, I just have to figure out where I’m going to live.

“If I can stay here for a few more days, it’ll give me enough time to–”

“I’m not kicking you out.” He stares at me with all the broody, intenseness that makes my knees go weak.

Silence stretches between us, and I feel like there’s something that he wants to say, but doesn’t. What I wouldn’t give to have him wrap those strong arms around me. To comfort me. But I know that would be a really bad idea.

Just being in the same room with him is hard enough. Adding any physical contact would be a temptation I don’t have the strength for right now.

I sit down on the kitchen chair and place my hands on the table.

“I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” He pulls out the chair beside me and straddles it, arms resting on the back, blue eyes watchful.

“Because it’s your place. With Travis gone–”

“It changes nothing.”

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