Page 9 of Hold Us Close
She drops herself onto the couch and I do the same. We’re not touching, but the ever-present current of electricity warms the space between us. We’ve been sleeping in separate beds. Making small talk and avoiding any mention of anything that could set me off. Which is part of why I lost it on Vasquez today.
So low I have to lean in to hear her, she speaks without looking at me. “I talked to Corin last night about…about everything.”
There’s probably a sniper rifle trained on my forehead right about now. Her college roommate from New York has made it clear to me on multiple occasions that if I hurt Layla my balls will be pureed.
“By everything you mean…”
“All of it,” she says softly. “The baby, the surgery, you…you not wanting this.”
“Ah. And what did Ginger have to say?”
Finally she turns her beautiful ocean water eyes to mine. “She invited me to come stay with her for a while. She doesn’t think it’s good for me to be home alone so much. And you and I…”
You and I are done.I hear it even though she doesn’t say it.
“You’re leaving me?” Fuck. My voice comes out weak and pathetic. My father’s two favorite nicknames for me.
“No! God, Landen, it’s just…I don’t know where we are right now. We pretend like…like there’s nothing to say, like not talking about it makes it not real. But how are you going to feel when I look like I swallowed a soccer ball? I don’t want you flying into a rage at the sight of me, and honestly…”
At some point, my head dropped into my hands. My elbows dig into my knees and I lift my eyes and turn to her. “Honestly what?” Her perfect mouth is doing that heartbreakingly adorable thing it does when she’s about to cry. I can’t help myself. I reach out with my thumb and brush it tenderly against her lips. “Honestly what, baby?”
Her eyelids flicker and she shakes her head before pulling back out of my reach. “Honestly, I don’t want to spend this entire pregnancy feeling guilty…and…and afraid.” The last word isn’t even loud enough to call a whisper, but it cuts me the deepest.
I stand, pulling my hand from her mouth as if she bit me. “Jesus, Layla. The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me.” I’m pacing, and already I know I need to settle down, but she’s leaving and she’s afraid of me and everything is all screwed up. “You know I would never hurt you. Christ almighty, I’d rather peel off my own skin than hurt you.”
“I know that. That’s not what I meant. Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” I stop pacing and examine her face. She still looks like an angel. Just a sad, tired angel. The stress of our situation is taking its toll on her. Like it or not, I’m hurting her.
“I know you’re unhappy,” she confesses. “When you hurt, I hurt.”
In that moment, the one when she utters those words, I am consumed utterly and entirely with inescapable self-hatred. I open my mouth to speak, but she’s not finished.
“I’m not afraid for me, Landen. I’m afraid for you. Afraid you’ll lose yourself. Sometimes, when you’re angry…” She closes her eyes for a few seconds, and I need her words like I need air to breathe. Except it feels like both are going to choke me to death. “Sometimes it’s like you’re someone else, and it’s like I don’t know you, or know how to help you.”
I kneel in front of her, pulling her to me until our foreheads touch. “Baby, you do help me. I don’t even want to think about the man I’d be if it weren’t for you.” Bile rises in my throat at the mention of me without her. The reflection of my father staring back at me thrusts itself into my head.
“I love you so much,” she whispers into my hair. “So much.”
I let my weight press against her. “I love you, too. God I love you so damn much it hurts. I swear we’ll get through this. Somehow. We will.” It’s then that I see the small, black suitcase peeking out from beside the couch. Fuck. “Please don’t leave me,” I plead. It doesn’t escape me that I’m literally on my knees begging.
“I won’t,” she reassures me. “I could never really leave you, Landen. You know that.” But I pull back and look up into her eyes. They’re shining with the promise of more tears. More pain.
You ruin everything, my father reminds me.
“I know.”
I’ve been on the phone with Corin for over an hour explaining why I’m not coming to visit her after all. I’m freaking exhausted.
“He needs me,” I tell her on a sigh. “And he’s always been there for me when I needed him.” That’s what love is, I want to tell her. Being there. Keeping each other balanced. Not that we’ve been doing such a great job at it lately.
“Until now,” she snaps back, still as heated as she was when this conversation began. “You’re the one who’s pregnant, Georgia. He needs to get his shit together and man up. You can’t baby him anymore. You’re growing a human being inside of you for fuck’s sake.”
I huff out a breath and lie down on the bed. Landen left for his run as soon as I picked up the phone. Glancing at the alarm clock, I see it’s going on two hours since he’s been gone. The more upset he is, the longer he runs. “I know. I think I’m going to take a nap, Cor. It’s all just been…” A nightmare, I want to say, but I don’t because then she’ll launch into her ninety-nine reasons why I should just come stay with her. And this isn’t what I want to remember. I don’t want to look at my child one day and think,Being pregnant with you was the worst nine months of my life.Going over it all again seems like a surefire way to burn the pain into my memory.
“Okay,” she says, finally relenting. “Get some rest. But if he so much as raises his voice at you, I swear—”
“I know. And I love you for looking out for me. I know it sounds bad, but he really doesn’t direct his anger at me. Even at his worst. He just holds everything in and then he breaks. He can’t help it. I can’t imagine what it was like being raised by a man like his father.”
