Page 29 of What She Deserves
“Nothing happened because we’re like family. Like Alex. She was visiting from out of town and spent the night at my place because she had an early tour leaving the next morning. My condo was more convenient than staying at Alex’s. You can ask him about her if you don’t believe me.”
“I never heard you talk about her.”
“There are a lot of things I didn’t share with you.”
“No kidding.” She swallowed.
“That’s why you called and broke up with me.”
She looked him in the eyes, hers filled with hurt and sorrow.
He touched her cheek. “Sweetness, I swear, Heather was practically family. She died year before last.”
Layla gasped. “What? Rashad, I’m so sorry.”
He forced himself to go numb so he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He, Heather, and Alex had been as close as siblings, and her death had landed a devastating blow to their little family.
“She was sick for a while, and now she’s in a better place. No more pain,” he said, woodenly. “When you told me we were done, I was shocked. Then you refused to see me, even when I showed up at your apartment.”
“I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say.”
“That was clear.” Rashad took her hand. “Give me another shot. Let’s see where we can take this. I’m all in.”
Layla sighed. “I don’t want to make a hasty decision. Let me think about it.”
“Okay. When do you think I can see you again? Maybe Friday?”
“I’m busy. I’ll call you when I’m free.”
“All right. We’ll do this at your pace.” Rashad didn’t like that answer, but he’d have to be satisfied. He couldn’t push too hard because then he’d push her away.
As he helped her to her feet, her phone beeped. She pulled it from her purse and almost immediately, a smile spread on her face.
“Good news?” Rashad asked.
“Yes. I...” She hesitated.
“If it’s good news, tell me.”
“The text is from my sister. My dad did really well in physical therapy today. The doctor thinks he’ll be able to walk without his cane soon.”
“What happened to your dad?”
She responded to the text and then tucked the phone in the bag over her shoulder. “He had an accident. A guy was texting and not paying attention and side-swiped my dad’s car. Banged him up pretty good. Anyway, he’s been in therapy for three weeks, and there has been a lot of progress. She wanted me to know that he did well today.”
“I asked about your family the other day. Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?”
“Why would I?”
“It’s me, Rashad,” he said, suddenly angry and hurt that he’d been excluded.
He used to love hearing stories about her family, and every so often she’d FaceTime with her parents, which was always like a hilarious episode from a sitcom. He’d assumed that since both her parents were high-powered attorneys, they were staid, serious people. Instead, they were a funny, affectionate couple whose teasing and bantering made clear the decades of love between them. Each FaceTime session—and Rashad had been fortunate enough to be nearby during at least five—had been an experience.
He’d come to feel as if he knew her family, and he and Layla’s mother had even exchanged cookie recipes once. Being that he didn’t have a family of his own, he’d devoured each story Layla shared and enjoyed every conversation he’d had with her parents.
“We don’t have that type of relationship anymore,” Layla said quietly.
Her answer decimated him, and emotion clogged his airway. “We used to.”
