His Sweet Revenge

Chapter 41.

"Yes, I am. If you don't want to take me that's fine. But then you're not going either. I'm sure Nate or Brett have lots of clothes for you to borrow."

He laughs slightly, adding two pancakes to my plate. "Layla, I need my stuff. I'll come straight back and I won't leave your side. Okay?"

I don't say anything. I sit there and chew on my bottom lip, avoiding his eyes.

He continues to wait for my response. "Layla?"

I give my plate a slight push. "I'm not hungry," I say and walk off.

Upstairs, I flop down onto my bed and let out a long dramatic sigh. There's a knock on my door shortly after that.

"Hey," Mom says, slipping through the door. "Everything okay?"

I sit up. "Yeah. I'm fine."

She crosses the room and sits down next to me.

"Does Dad know what happened?" I ask, hating how my voice sounds weak.

She clears her throat, picking at a loose thread from my sheets. "I called him. He didn't answer."

I nod. "Oh." I pause. "Did you know he proposed to Martha? Rebecca was there, too."

It's silent for a painfully long moment. "I heard. Grandpa Henry told me the other day over the phone. I was waiting for your dad to call you but ... he seems to be a little busy."

"Yeah," I scoff. "No kidding."

I kind of just want to be left alone right now.

"You should go eat breakfast, Mom. I don't want to keep you."

"Yeah," she says, letting out a fake smile as she gets up. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have given you a better dad."

"Don't be sorry." I shake my head. "Don't ever be sorry because of him. You're amazing and you're the best mom a girl could ask for. I never needed him because I had you."

Her fake smile turns sad. "I love you, Layla."

I smile back. "I love you too."

"I'll bring you some food and painkillers up later," she says softly.

Then there's a knock at my door.

I hesitate. "Come in," I call out.

Grayson opens the door and his eyes widen when he sees my mom. "Hey..." he says, looking between us. "Can we talk?"

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Mom smiles, walking away.

Grayson hesitates in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

I get up and walk toward him. "I'm not some annoying, clingy girlfriend, Grayson. I won't leave your side. Do you really think that's what I'm worried about? You leaving me?"

He stands there, looking at me. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot."

I run a hand through my hair. It's still wet. "It's insulting that you don't see how much I worry about you or how much I care about you."

"I see it," he says softly. "I see it, baby. But you don't need to worry about me."

I shake my head and scoff, turning around. "Don't call me that."

I hear him walk up behind me, and feel him slide his hands over my stomach as he hugs me, resting his head against mine. I close my eyes and breathe.

"Talk to me."

I place my hands over his warm ones. "The way you feel about me is the exact same way I feel about you. You don't want me to leave this house, right? So why would you think that I would be okay with you leaving? And after what you said this morning ... I don't want you to take care of it, Grayson. I want you safe and alive and not behind bars or something."