Page 44 of Rejected Heart (The Westwoods #5)

LIAM

“Where have you been?”

Four words I’d waited a long time to ask. Next to wanting to know why Layla left, this was the one of the questions that plagued my mind day in and day out for years. And today, I needed to get answers to some of the most pressing.

That’s why I’d decided to do this here. As promised, I’d picked Layla up from her mom’s place at noon, and I brought her out for lunch.

Last night, when I struggled to fall asleep because I was so overwhelmed by the prospect of us having a second chance, I considered my options for how to spend the day with her.

I’d considered doing something similar to what I’d done the day I learned why she left me by taking her to the park for lunch again, but I didn’t trust myself to stay focused long enough to get the answers I needed from her.

It had been difficult enough not to drag Layla out of my niece’s birthday party just to have my way with her. I’d gone eight years without access to her. Not her voice. Her touch. Her kiss. Her body.

Then we had that one night a month ago, and I got a taste of her. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close to enough.

It was a tease. An appetizer. Only the beginning of a meal I wanted no less than three times a day, every day for the rest of my life.

I had no idea how I made it through Rosie’s party. I thought the last eight years without Layla were a struggle. That party was infinitely worse.

Because I had a spark of hope that maybe we’d be able to do this, maybe we’d get back all that we’d lost and then some.

For that very reason, no matter how badly I wanted to have Layla’s naked body pressed against mine again while I moved inside her and listened to those moans of hers, I didn’t want to risk winding up in a situation where I wouldn’t be able to have that all the time.

I refused to skip the steps that were necessary to make sure we were on the same page. I had to be sure that Layla was here to stay.

So, I decided it was best to be somewhere that I couldn’t get sidetracked by kissing her, which would lead to so many other things that would have nothing to do with asking the very important questions that I needed to get answers to.

“I presume you’re asking me about where I’ve been for the last eight years,” Layla replied.

I dipped my chin. “Yes. ”

She hesitated before she revealed, “I’ve been living in New York City since the day after you proposed.”

Every muscle in my body tensed, because I was quickly putting two and two together, and I wasn’t getting four. “You were living in Manhattan?”

"That’s oddly specific. How did you guess?”

“Because after you and I spoke a month ago, I took some time to think about the conversations we’d had in the past. Manhattan was one of the places you’d mentioned to me years ago.”

She inclined her head with understanding. “That’s right. I didn’t think you remembered that.”

I squinted, trying to make sense of this.

Layla told me one month ago that she’d rejected my proposal and left here because she was worried about turning out like her mom when it came to her professional life.

She didn’t want to struggle. She’d also made it clear that she hadn’t managed to find whatever it was that would give her that success she was hoping to find.

“I feel like there’s something I’m missing here.”

“What do you mean?”

Shaking my head with confusion, I asked, “Why would you choose to move to one of the most expensive cities in this country to live in if you were concerned about finances?”

Layla didn’t appear nervous about me asking that question. In fact, she quickly rattled off an explanation. “The choice to go to the city was an easy one when I considered the earning potential and opportunity. Nearly every job pays more there than it would here, if such a job even existed here.”

“Okay. But the cost of living is far more expensive, too. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She tipped her head to the side, a look of disappointment washing over her expression.

“Parts of it are, yes. But my goal was to be able to explore my options, find something that made me feel happy and fulfilled, and discover a level of success that would have made it so that the higher costs didn’t matter. ”

While all of that sounded great—ambitious, if nothing else—I was left wondering what her long-term plan was.

She’d previously claimed she wanted to find professional success, to know that she could take care of herself without the same struggle her mother suffered.

She’d also claimed that once she found that, she’d intended to come back as a woman who was worthy of me.

I couldn’t sit here and think about all the reasons why I hated that she believed she wasn’t worthy of me to begin with—or that she believed I was the kind of man who’d just walk out on her the way her dad had done with her and her mom.

But there was one thing I couldn’t refrain from questioning her about.

“You said you hadn’t found the success or career you were hoping for, which is why you never came back, but I’m wondering how you would have done that if you’d managed to find whatever it was that you were searching for.

It seems unlikely that you’d just quit after all that hard work simply so you could come back here to me, doesn’t it? ”

Layla’s expression had turned melancholy, but before she could respond, our server returned with our lunches, setting them down on the table and only helping to build that tension between us. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“We’re good for now. Thank you.”

After he turned and walked off, Layla let out a deep sigh.

“For someone like me who was always so organized, who always had a plan, I hate to admit that I didn’t exactly have that in this case.

It was completely out of character, and I thought I could just wing it.

Call me young and stupid. I don’t know. I guess I thought when I found success, everything else would fall into place precisely how I wanted it to.

Or, at the very least, I would be able to set myself up in such a way that even if I couldn’t find a similar job here, I’d at least have enough that I wouldn’t need to worry so much. ”

My response spilled out of me faster than I intended.

“It kills me to think you believe I’m the kind of man who’d just walk out on you, Layla.

And it hurts worse to know you walked away because you believe I have the capacity to leave my wife and my child, abandoning them with nothing.

I don’t understand what I did to make you think I could ever do such a thing. ”

Layla had been holding her wrap in her hands, but at the agony in my tone and the emotions my words brought to the surface, she set it down, sat back, and dropped her gaze to her lap .

I hated this.

There were parts of me that still felt so much anger over her leaving, and they were in a constant battle with the much bigger parts of me that saw Layla sitting there like that and wanted nothing more than to scoop her into my arms while making promises that everything was going to be okay.

I didn’t want it to be this way between us.

I wanted us to fix it.

But I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to do that if I knew that she was worried I’d walk out on her. Wasn’t it me who should have been concerned about the opposite happening?

I set my own sandwich down. “Layla, I’m sorry.”

Her head snapped up. “For what? You haven’t done anything wrong, Liam.

I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should be telling you every day about how sorry I am that I did what I did to you.

To us. I was so worried about winding up in a compromising situation like my mom and I did that I wound up becoming just like my dad.

You were right when you said I run when I’m scared.

That’s exactly what I did. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. ”

Reaching across the table, I said, “Give me your hand.”

Carefully, slightly confused, she placed her hand in mine.

The moment I felt her touch, I squeezed my fingers tight around hers while closing my eyes. She’d left, but she was here now.

I had to try to remember that.

I had to try to give her some grace for making a foolish decision when she was just barely a month out of high school.

I was just as much to blame for what happened to us, especially when I hadn’t taken her worries about her future seriously.

Maybe she hadn’t handled things in the best way, but she was here now, and she was making the effort.

Either I wanted to forgive her, move on, and try to rebuild, or I wanted to spend my life punishing her. There was no question we’d already wasted plenty of time.

“Liam?”

I opened my eyes and saw the uneasiness lingering in her gaze.

“I forgive you. And I want this to work between us. That’s not going to happen if I continue to dwell on the pain and bitterness I’ve felt for years.

So, I am sorry. I’m trying. I promise I’m trying to move forward.

There’re just a lot of questions. And fear, too, if I’m honest.”

Layla’s expression was marred by sorrow. “I wish I could go back and do it all over again. I’d do everything differently.”

“I know you would.” I gave her hand a light squeeze, released it, and picked up my sandwich again. She did the same with her wrap. “I know you said you didn’t find the career or the success you were hoping for, but how about you tell me what you did find when you left?”

Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders, and she offered a small smile before taking a bite of her food. “I found a job and a friend.”

A wave of jealousy waved over me. She’d found a friend. A guy? I felt so conflicted. It pained me to think she’d been with anyone else, while at the same time I wouldn’t have wanted her to be alone in a city like that without a single friend.

Swallowing down that green-eyed monster, I took another bite of my sandwich and said, “Tell me about both.”