Page 59 of What She Deserves
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Layla had missed the comfort of lying in Rashad’s arms during the weeks they were apart, so she took great pleasure in snuggling up to him in bed, head on his shoulder, one bare leg thrown across his thighs.
Earlier, after he’d bared his soul, they went out to eat and talked some more about his past. Free of the burden of shame, he opened up to her, and she devoured every morsel of information he willingly shared. Back at the condo, he showed her the photos his father sent, and for the first time she saw pictures of him as a child. One of him playing in the bathtub and another where he showed off his missing front teeth were among her favorites.
Coming here had been the right decision. Not only had they made up, but having him share all of himself deepened the intimacy between them.
Layla lifted onto one elbow. “Have you ever reconsidered contacting your mother?”
“A million times at least, and every time I stop myself because my reason for reaching out would be selfish. It’s all about me and my needs, but I don’t want to remind her of what happened. I can’t do that to her.”
Caressing his chest, Layla said, “It’s been thirty-three years since she left, and she might have healed by now.”
“If she has, I don’t want to be the reason she relapses or starts having nightmares. My father raped her, and I look just like him, Layla. It would be cruel to do that to her.”
“I’m not going to push you, but consider this a gentle prodding. You don’t have to show up at her house unannounced. You could start by sending her a letter, introducing yourself, and seeing if she responds.”
“If she doesn’t, though…”
The unfinished sentence carried the heft of pain. Like so many abandoned children, Rashad worried that his mother didn’t want to be found. Layla wasn’t in his shoes and couldn’t fathom his fears. She had a big, loving family, and they all got along well.
She didn’t want to cause Rashad or his mother anymore pain. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m on your side, whatever you decide,” she said quietly.
* * *
“I can’t eatanother bite, I’m done,” Alex said, patting his belly. He was an attractive man, with wavy black hair, hazel eyes, and a light Colombian accent.
His wife, Sherry, sat next to him, visibly pregnant with her light brown skin glowing. During dinner Layla learned they were having a boy. Layla and Rashad sat across from them in the almost empty restaurant.
Coming here to celebrate the closing of the Lion Mountain Vineyards deal had been Alex’s idea, and during the meal she clearly saw why he and Rashad were so close. They were very in sync business wise, but business wasn’t the only topic of conversation during the night, and their love and affection for each other was obvious as they ribbed each other and shared inside jokes.
Sometimes Sherry joined in, but it was obvious the true bond was between the two men sitting across from each other, proving that family didn’t necessarily mean blood relatives. Family was what you made it, with people who loved you and who you could depend on.
“Same. I can’t eat another bite,” Rashad said, letting his fork clatter onto the ceramic plate.
“Lightweights,” Sherry said, slicing into her chocolate cake.
Alex slipped an arm behind her. “Sweetheart, you might be taking this eating for two thing too far.”
Layla and Rashad groaned loudly to let Alex know he’d screwed up.
Sherry shot him a dirty look. “Excuse me?”
“Uh-oh. You better turn on that Colombian charm because you’re in trouble now,” Rashad said.
Layla rested a hand on his thigh, giggling as she sipped her wine.
“Mi amor, you know I’m only kidding,” Alex said.
“You better be.”
Alex cupped his wife’s face and continuously pecked her lips until she started giggling and begged him to stop.
The waiter came by. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.
“The check, please,” Alex replied.
The waiter placed the black check folder on the table and walked away. Rashad snatched it up before Alex could.
