Layne's POV
After lunch KJ we look at two more houses before we quit and decide to just go back to the realtor and start over. This time, trying to tie both of our ideas into one. Afterwards, she drops me back off at home, parking the car and walking me to the door.
"Are you staying the night?" I ask.
"I would but I can't," she replies vaguely, "But I love you," she leans in for a kiss and we meet halfway.
"I love you too," I smile and she takes my hand, playing with my fingers.
"One day you won't have to ask me that," she mumbles.
"One day soon," I correct her.
"But not as soon as if you had liked any of the houses today," she teases. I hit her, snatching my hand back.
"Hey," she grabs me by my middle, pulling me back to her, "You love me remember?"
"Let me go!"
She does, squeezing me one last time before letting me go.
"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" I prompt her one last time. She takes a deep breath, before shaking her hand, "I wish I could but I can't."
She kisses me one last time before pulling away.
"You'll stop by tomorrow?" I ask. She nods, "Definitely."
She departs and I finally enter my apartment, changing out of my dress and washing off my face. A throat clears while I'm doing the latter and I jump, expecting to see Dil. It isn't.
"Dru? You're back?" I ask. I don't know why I'm surprised, but I am.
He nods, taking a seat on my bed, "I live here. And am married to your brother. Is your amnesia coming back?"
"Ha ha," I laugh dryly, "You sort of just disappeared. And it isn't like anyone tells me shit in this house."
"Fair," he changes the subject, "So you and KJ are back together?"
"What have you heard?" I turn to him. In the week since she'd been back, Wren was technically the only person I'd actually told. But then again, after she left me in the laundry room, she went talked to Dil about something and now they were on another understanding.
"Not much," he shrugs, "But I heard she's been over here every night for a week... And I can see that ring on your finger..."
I stop, realizing I'd been anxiously twisting it on my finger since we started talking. I rush to close the door and take a seat, "Don't tell Dil."
"You think he doesn't know?" he chuckles. My face heats. Of course he already knows...
"Why are you in here?" I cut to the chase.
"I know you don't like me but I love you like you're my own sister. And I want to make sure you guys are being responsible."
I start to get an attitude but he holds up his hand, stopping me, "I'm not chastizing you. I'm trying to help." He pulls out a tri-folded piece of paper. "Here's everything I wish me and your brother would've talked about before we got married."
"So what? This is a checklist situation now?"
"Marriage is hard work," he stands, "I want y'all to work out. But I want y'all to be stable."
He exits the room and I go through the list of almost forty things. We've done some of them, like discuss housing and kids, but the less logistical stuff? The things like "do I know her love language?" or "how much space do we need from each other?"
Fuck.
I call her, knowing her drive home is going to be a long one, and go to voicemail. Double fuck.
I pull out my laptop and type of the questions and some of my answers to them. Who's going to pay the bills? Will you have joint back accounts?
As I read through the list, I start to get angry I've never thought of any of this before.
I think about calling her again, but decide against it, closing the document and opening Netflix instead.
As I'm about to fall asleep my phone buzzes with a facetime from her.
"I called you," I answer.
"And I'm calling you back," I can tell from the background she's in bed, "What's on your mind, my love?"
"Not much. I just missed you," I roll over, grabbing my headphones and plugging them into the phone, "I get lonely at night when you don't stay over," I yawn, "What are you thinking about?"
"Tacos," she exhales, "And you of course."
She smiles at nothing and I notice her eyes are red, even in the dim light of the room, "Are you high?"
She laughs, "As a kite."
She keeps giggling and I roll my eyes, "Good night."
"Good night, love," she responds.
"Wait---" I stop her from hanging up, "Can you stay on the line?"
"Of course, Baby," she adjusts so that the screen is propped up, so I can watch her sleep.
"Are you excited?" I probe, trying to find out where her head is.
"Yeah," she yawns, "We're talking about the marriage thing right?"
"Yes," I giggle.
"Then yeah. I'm excited."
We lay in silence, listening to each other breathe. I take a deep breath, "Can I ask you one more thing?"
"Yeah."
"Why are you marrying me?" I ask softly.
"Because you said yes," she yawns before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.
I think about waking her back up, but decide against it, letting her sleep. Eventually I fall asleep as well, a fitful sleep consuming me.
KJ's POV
I knock on the door of Layne's apartment and Dil opens it, "Morning. Isn't it a little early for you to be pissing off my sister?"
"Early bird, right?" I step into the apartment, handing him one for the lattes I grabbed on the way over, "Coffee?"
He accepts my subtle bribery, "So we've reached an understanding."
I hand him another one for Dru before heading into her room.
I take a seat on the edge of her bed, the bed shifting under my weight. Layne eyes flutter open and she looks visibly shook by the sight of me. I realize that it's weird for me to just be in house unannounced.
"What are you doing here?" she questions, and rightfully so.
"Bringing you coffee," I hand her a paper cup, "You didn't look like you were sleeping well."
"How'd you get in here?" she yawns, sitting up.
"Dil let me in," I explain, "What's wrong?"
She jumps again, like she's just remembered something, "Do you know what you said to me last night? Just before you went to bed?"
I chuckle awkwardly, "I-- uh-- I don't remember." I don't remember anything clearly at least. I was so tired last night, after I smoked I went straight to bed.
She scoffs, "Seriously?"
I pause, reading the situation a little better. Apparently, last night me did something stupid and now it's up to right now me to figure out what.
Only, because I'm a dumb ass, the next thing out my mouth is, "How bad did I fuck up?"
She stares at me and I try again.
"Um, okay," I exhale, "What can I do to fix it?"
"Is it true the only reason we're getting married is because I said yes?"
"Before I respond," I pause, "Is this going to turn into a fight?"
"It doesn't have to," she replies, "But I feel like you're gonna say something stupid so it might."
"You're right to suspect that," I take a sip from my coffee and she watches me, before doing the same. "What is this really about?"
"Why do you want to marry me?"
I stall, "Why aren't you answering my question?"
"Why aren't you answering mine?" she counters.
"Because," I exhale, "You always ask me three passive aggressive questions before you ask me the real one and by then we're fighting. I want to marry you because I want you with me forever. You're my person, Layne. I can't imagine having what I have with you with anyone else. That's why I'm marrying you."
"Oh," she clearly wasn't expecting me to have an answer.
"Counter question--- Why are you marrying me?" I ask.
"Why would you ask me that?" she seems insulted.
"You keep questioning me," I reply, "It's like you're looking for reasons not to."
"I'm not looking for reasons not to," she protests, "I just want to make sure---"
"--We're solid," I cut her off, "I know. I know." Because I do know. I just hate talking about it all the time.
"Kaylie Jane," she stands and grabs her laptop, "I wasn't worried about it but Dru came in last night and fucked me up with this list of questions and now I'm worried again!"
She hands me a paper full of questions, "Have you thought of any of these?"
I scan it. What would make you leave the marriage? Do you know your partner's love language? How will you raise your kids?
"I've thought about some of these," I answer honestly, "But this is a long list. You can't expect me to think of everything."
"I don't! But I think we need to work through some of this," she points to my least favorite question, "What would make you leave me?"
"I don't think like that," I really didn't think about it. I wasn't from a family that supported divorce. And while I'd left some parts of my faith behind, I still held onto that belief, "It's not how I grew up."
"Okay... Well what do you think your love language is?"
"I don't know," I answer again, feeling sort of stupid. I don't even know what that was to be honest, "What do you think it is?"
"I know its not words of affirmation. You suck at it," she reasons, "But you brought me coffee and you're always trying to kiss me so acts of service and touch are probably high for you."
"I'm not always trying to kiss you," I protest.
"We end every fight we have with a kiss so you know I'm not mad at you," she pats my leg, "So that's one."
"Okay I like to touch you. Sue me," I don't know why I'm getting defensive, but I am, "I can express feelings outside of physical touch."
"That's not what that means. Get over yourself," she rolls her eyes, "It's cute that you're getting flustered, though."
"I'm not flustered!" my voice comes out whiny.
"Yes, you are," she takes my hand, "I already took the test for us. And it's fine, I have that one too. It works for us."
It works for us. That phrase had followed us through the entirety of our relationship.
I take a deep breath, "Okay. So what isn't working for us?"
"You tell me," she replies, "Why did you get high last night?"
We both take contemplative sips of our coffee, except I chug most of mine down, taking my time to finish the cup.
Her alarm goes off while I'm stalling, indicating she needs to be getting ready for work.
"Shame. Looks like you have to go to work," I tease.
She cuts it off in frustration before turning back to me, "I hate you. Like really."
"No you don't," I stand up and she does as well, "Do you want me to drive you to work?"
She shakes her head, "I'm hanging out with Wren tonight."
"Can I have a kiss goodbye?" I ask and obliges, placing a sweet coffee flavored kiss on my lips.
She pulls away too quickly, making eye contact with me, "We're talking about this later."
"Okay," I kiss her one more time before leaving the apartment, hoping she'll forget.
Layne's POV
I don't forget.
Not when I'm at work. Not when I shower and change clothes afterwards. Not after grabbing dinner with Wren. Not when I drive over to her place afterwards.
I knock, then remember I have a key and let myself in. I find her stretched on the couch, the TV playing in the background, paper work spread around her.
"Kaylie Jane?" I place a gentle hand on her shoulder and she stirs, smiling at the sight of me.
"Hey, baby," her voice is heavy with sleep. I pull her up and she doesn't resist, "C'mon. It's bedtime."
She leans on me, then shifts so that she's not putting all her weight on me, "Why'd you come over?"
"I missed you," I reply as we make our way up the steps, "What were you working on?"
"Christ Almighty wants me back," she yawns, "And they're giving me a heavier case load. I'm trying to catch myself up."
We reach the bedroom and I drop her onto the bed, unbuttoning her shirt and sliding it off her shoulders and tossing it into the hamper.
She leans back and I undo her belt, pulling her jeans off as well, before she rolls over and onto her side of the bed, sliding under the covers. I grab one of her shirts from the closet before joining her in bed, pulling her close. She wraps her arms around me and I kiss her forehead.
"I didn't forget," I whisper.
"Of course you didn't," she replies, "I want you to know I'm scared too."
"I know," I run my fingers through her coiled hair, twisting and playing in it. Of course she's scared. Put into perspective, who wouldn't be? Our turn around from being madly in love to hating each other to being on the road to marriage? It was fast. And I believed in us, but it would be a long road.
"So then... last night?"
"I just needed a break from everything," she sighs, "Everything has been feeling--- like--- extra real? Like you're really about to be my wife and we're really about to get married and move in together and all that shit. I've been really feeling it, Layne," she exhales, "And every time I start thinking like that I realize I'm not good enough for you. I'm waiting for you to catch on too."
I don't know what to say for a minute, and then I do, "I could've told you no, you know?"
"What?" she tenses.
"I almost did," I continue, "But I said yes. Because, believe it or not, you make me a better person. You make me see things differently. You make me laugh when I'm upset. You introduce me to new things all the time. And when you aren't being a piece of shit you treat me like a queen. That's why I'm marrying you."
"And the sex is good," she adds. I hit her and she laughs.
"Shut up," I blush, "But yeah that was a consideration."
I don't have to look at her to know exactly how smug she looks.
"Maybe I should've said no to you," I end my statement, "But I didn't. So stop worrying about if you're good enough and realize that I think you are. And that's what matters."
She doesn't say anything and I prompt her, "Okay?"
"Okay," she mumbles.
"And promise me you'll stop smoking," I demand, "And that you'll start taking your actual medication again."
I'm at the point where I can tell when she goes off her meds and when she goes back on. It isn't a night and day situation, but I can still tell the nuances.
"Yes ma'am." I place another kiss on her forehead. "I love you."
"I love you too."