Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I clenched my teeth so hard, a headache immediately came on. “Who?”
Etta shook her head. “I don’t remember his name. But he was handsome. Sounded like they were friendly. He was a lawyer.”
“And she made plans to go out with him?”
“She was noncommittal at the courthouse.”
The muscles in my shoulders loosened marginally. But then some sort of a strange, silent communication took place between Etta and Rip.
“What?” I said.
“Nothing.” Etta pointed to the kitchen. “I think I smell the bread burning.”
After she rushed to the kitchen, I looked at Rip again. “What else is there that the two of you aren’t telling me?”
He blew out a deep breath. “Etta got a statement in the mail from your girl’s firm yesterday. The fees were zeroed out. Layla had taken care of her stuff pro bono. Etta called the office to argue about getting a real bill, and when Layla wouldn’t agree to give her one, Etta told her she wanted to at least make her a nice dinner to say thank you.”
“Okay. So?”
Rip frowned. “Layla had plans…with the guy from the courthouse, apparently. A real big spender, too. Taking her to The Plaza tomorrow night for dinner.”
The miserable feeling I’d had all day suddenly sprouted through my body. My head pounded, my stomach became knotted, and it felt like an elephant had sat his ass on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I went to the kitchen, grabbed whatever alcohol Etta had in her cabinet, and filled half a glass. The urge to crush it in my hand was overwhelming.
Rip sat down in the living room. “I’m sorry, Gray. I didn’t want to give you that news.”
I drank half the bitter-tasting fluid in one gulp, hoping for something to help me feel calmer, something to numb me.
“I know she deserves a good life. I just hate that I can’t be the one to give it to her. The thought of her being with anyone else makes me want to bash every fucking lawyer’s head into a wall.”
Rip chuckled. “Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.” He shook his head. “Fucking lawyers. No offense to your lady.”
“How do you move on?” Rip’s wife had been gone for four or five years now. “Does it get easier?”
“Did a single day go by that you didn’t hear my Eileen’s name when we were locked up?”
I thought about it. I was pretty sure I knew more about Eileen than Rip. My head fell into my hands. “Fuck.”
Rip leaned forward, took the half-empty drink from my hand, and slugged the rest of it back. “Tell me about it.”
I was miserable company during dinner and after. I’d have to send Etta some flowers to make up for it. At least Etta and Rip seemed to have hit it off. The two of them were actually pretty entertaining together. Between my sour mood and the additional drinks I kicked back, I left feeling ready to hit the sack.
I rested my head against the seat of the car for the entire drive home and closed my eyes. It wasn’t like I’d expected Layla to stay celibate or anything. But what had it been? A whole two fucking weeks, and she was already moving on? And The Plaza Hotel? The fucker probably had a room for the night, too. I knew that move. A nice dinner, a couple of drinks—you look gorgeous tonight…and, hey, my room is just upstairs.
Fuck.
The car had stopped moving, so I opened my eyes to see where we were. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. We were stopped in traffic right in front of The Plaza Hotel. The same damned place the woman I loved would be out on a fucking date tomorrow night.
***
The next morning, I woke with my teeth still clenched, a blaring headache, and my palms sweating. The feeling of impending doom reminded me of how I’d felt the day before I’d started my damn prison sentence. But in my mind, the thought of Layla moving on had much longer-term ramifications. This loss wouldn’t be over in a few years—because when you meet the love of your life, and lose her, what do you have left? Just life without the love. Before I met Layla, I hadn’t even realized something was missing. Yet now, without her, I felt totally incomplete.
I’d experienced jealousy before, but it had come from a very different place—the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head, an archaic sort of possessiveness over a woman that stemmed from some alpha-male, hormonal shit that bred on immaturity. But what I felt today was totally different. Sure, I wanted to beat the living piss out of the guy Layla had plans with tonight. But I also felt other emotions that were new to me—fear, grief, loss. As crazy as it seemed, it likely wasn’t all that different than struggling with the death of someone you loved.