An Unexpected Love (Women's Fiction/BWWM Romance)

An Unexpected Love

by

Stacy-Deanne

Copyright © 2015 Stacy-Deanne
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by
the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of
$250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to
actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Email: [email protected]

Website:
http://authorstacy-deanne.weebly.com/

Check out all of Stacy’s titles at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Stacy-Deanne/e/B001JP7Q16/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacy.deanne.5

Twitter: @
stacydeanne

Readers:
Thanks so much for choosing my book! I would be very appreciative if you would
leave reviews on Amazon and Goodreads when you are done. Much love!

This
book is dedicated to Houston, Texas AKA H-town, Clutch City,
Screwston
, Bayou City and everyone from the H! So throw
your H’s up! I am Houston-bred and born, and I love my city! Within this book,
you will recognize things original to Houston, such as some neighborhoods,
streets, and even a Houston entertainer. It’s H-town pride, baby! I loved
writing this book, and it has quickly become one of my favorites!

I
love you, Houston! I’ll always support my beautiful city!

For
anyone who is going through the battles that Layla and Cross face, continue to
be strong. You can get through anything with love and support. Do not let shame
or fear make you afraid to seek help. Millions of people suffer from mental
disorders and live normal lives. You can too.

“Aliyah!” Layla Oates ran down her
upstairs hallway in the middle of the night. “Shanti!”

She shielded her face from the rising
smoke and the heat of the flames. “Aliyah!”

She got to her seventeen-year-old
daughter’s bedroom and busted through the door, screaming, “Aliyah!”

“Momma?” Aliyah jumped out of bed. “What
the hell is going…”

“Come on, baby!” Layla grabbed Aliyah’s
arm and pulled her out of the room. “Hold your hand over your face! Don’t
breathe in the smoke!”

Aliyah tried to pull her hand away.
“Momma, what the hell is wrong with…”

“Shanti!” Layla ran to her youngest
daughter’s bedroom at the end of the hall.

She ran inside Shanti’s room, shouting,
“Shanti!
 
Come on, honey!”

“Momma?” Sixteen-year-old Shanti sat up
with her thick, curly hair wild over her head. “Momma, what’s…”

“Come on!” Layla pulled her out of bed.
“Let’s go!”

She shoved Aliyah out of Shanti’s doorway
and dragged her daughters down the hall.

“Momma, stop!” Aliyah shoved her. “There
isn’t a fire!”

“Cover your faces!”

The smoke burned Layla’s eyes and nearly
choked her. She got to the stairwell. “Be careful, okay? Come on.”

Flames shot out from the walls. Smoke rose
from the floor. Coughing, Layla yanked the front door open and shoved her
daughters out into the humid Houston night.

“We gotta call nine-one-one, and I’ll get
the neighbors,” Layla mumbled as she stopped on the lawn. “What the hell? Why
isn’t anyone out here?”

“Momma, stop!” Aliyah stomped her feet on
the porch.

“Hello?!” Layla ran to the neighbors on
the right and pounded on the door of their upscale, two-story. “Open the door!”
She coughed from the smoke. “My house is on fire! Please call nine-one-one!”

“Momma!” Shanti grabbed her mother from
behind. “Please stop.” She sobbed. “Please, stop it, Momma!”

Giving up, Aliyah went back into the
burning house and slammed the door. “Man, who the fuck cares anymore?”

 
“Aliyah!”
Layla ran toward the house with Shanti hanging on to her. “Aliyah!”

The neighbors came out from across the
street. One by one, people turned on lights and exited their homes.

“What’s going on, Layla?” Layla’s elderly,
female neighbor asked.

“It’s okay.” Shanti waved off the woman.
“She’s just confused.”

“Confused?” Layla whispered. “I’m not
confused!” She shoved Shanti to the ground to get out of her grasp. “My baby’s
in the house! Aliyah!”

Layla prayed to herself and ran back
inside the burning house.

****

“Some things have changed since you last
been here haven’t they, Momma?”

Shanti followed Layla and Patrick Sham to
the courtyard of the Wellington Center for Psychiatric Treatment the next day.

Layla sat at one of the wooden tables.

Only a few people were in the yard, but
all of them stared at the Shams as if they’d never seen black people before.
Even the black man standing by the tree with his mouth opened stared.

Layla exhaled and propped her arm on the
table. Once again, she’d had another episode. Though she’d experienced them her
entire life, she couldn’t get over how real they always seemed.

When she looked up, she caught the gaze of
a handsome white man across the yard. He appeared around her age, and looked at
least six feet with piercing eyes and short, spikey blond hair. He stared more
intently than the others did. While they had eventually turned away, he kept
gazing at Layla as if he held no control.

Layla caressed Shanti’s yellow hand.
Everyone said Shanti and Aliyah looked just like Layla, with their wide eyes and
fluffy, wavy hair. She never understood how they became so bright, seeing how
she was light brown and Patrick darn near purple. Then again, Layla’s mother
was bright, and she and her sisters ranged from caramel to yellow. Everyone on
her mother’s side of the family had what people considered “good” hair.

Layla looked up at the tall, attractive,
bald black man in the fancy suit.

Seemed like a hundred years since Layla
had truly been in love with him.
 
Even
though she and Patrick had only been divorced a month, Layla had already began
to feel like she’d regained pieces of her true self…despite her latest
schizophrenic flip-out.

 
“Don’t
worry, all right?” Patrick looked at the pamphlet in his hand. “You’ll do well,
Lay. You know this place like the back of your hand.”

She ran her hands through her thick, long
waves. The sun hit the shine of his brown wingtips. “Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know.” She crossed her legs.
“That’s why I asked.”

“Momma.” Shanti tugged on her hand. “Just
appreciate that he’s here.”

“I’m just asking a question. Lord knows
you were sick of all the times I had to come to this place. You complained
about it our entire marriage. Why now that we’re divorced are you here, Patrick?”

“Because… no matter what has happened
between us…I still care.” He put his hand in the pocket of his crisp slacks. “I
always will.”

Layla looked at the white guy who still
stared from across the yard.

Patrick folded the pamphlet. “Let’s not
turn this into another argument, okay?”

Layla tapped her foot. “Part of me just
wonders if you’re here to support or to gloat.”

 
“Gloat?”
Patrick shook his head. “Jesus, I don’t know why I came, to be honest. I don’t have
to put up with this shit.” He threw the pamphlet on the table, and looked at
the street and the sluggish traffic. “No matter what I complained about I was
always there for you, Layla. I’m worried about you.”

“No need to be worried.” She held up her
hand. “I’ve done this a hundred times. I know the drill. I’ll do my sessions
and group and see what triggered yet another breakdown. They’ll probably put me
on even more meds, and I’ll be fine.” She smiled. “I’ve been schizophrenic for
a long time now, so I think I got the hang of it.”

Patrick mumbled and rolled his eyes.

“I tried to call
Liyah
,”
Layla said, calling her daughter by her nickname. “She, of course, didn’t
answer.”

“Well, you know how she is,” Shanti said.
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her. She should be here.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised.” Layla
scratched her head. “She hates me. Why should I expect her to be here?”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Patrick said.
“She’s a teenager, and she’s frustrated. She doesn’t know how to work through
her anger.”

“She hates me.” Layla glared at him.
“Maybe I deserve it. How long should I expect Shanti and
Liyah
to put up with my mess?” She kissed Shanti’s hand. “You’re young ladies now, so
it’s reasonable for you to be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry at all.” Shanti bent down
and hugged her. “I love you so much.” She stood up straight. “
Liyah
should be ashamed of herself. You can’t help you have
a mental problem. She’s so damn selfish. Sometimes I’m embarrassed she’s my big
sister.”

“I just feel like I’m messing up
everything.” Layla fought tears. “It’s the same old crap over and over.”

“You didn’t mess up anything.” Patrick
rubbed her shoulder. “I know you blame your illness for the divorce, but—”

“Isn’t that why it happened?” She sobbed.
“Come on. You even said I ruined everything.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But you did.” She sniffled. “I don’t need
excuses or to be babied. I checked myself back in here to own up to my
problems.”

“I didn’t come here to upset you.” Patrick
backed away from the table. “I gotta get to the office.” He checked his watch.
“Shanti, we better get you to school.”

Shanti kissed Layla’s cheek. “Love you,
Momma.”

Layla put her arms around her. “Not nearly
as much as I love you.” She let her go and looked at Patrick. “I suppose the
girls will be staying with you while I’m here.”

“Like you said…” He shrugged. “You know
the drill.”

“Gamete
Intrafallopian
Transfer?” Valerie Blakely stared at Dr.
Seun
from
across his desk.

 
Her
husband, David, scooted up in his chair. “What is that?”

“Well, it’s one of few options we have
left to try.”
Seun
reclined in his leather chair. “We
would collect Valerie’s eggs, mix them with your sperm and then import the eggs
back inside Valerie’s fallopian tubes. If it’s successful, then the eggs will
be fertilized.”

“What’s the success rate?” Valerie asked.

“Around twenty-five to thirty percent. The
healthier you are and the younger you are…the success rate can be even better.”
Seun
tapped a pen against his desk. “Valerie’s
thirty-seven and relatively healthy, so I suspect it could work well.”

“David.” Valerie grabbed his hand and
wiggled in the chair. “We…”

He tugged at his gray-and-white tie. “How
much would this cost?”

Valerie watched him with her eyebrow
raised. “David.”

 
“What?”

“It shouldn’t matter how much it’s gonna
cost.”

“Oh no?” He scoffed. “We have to pay for
this stuff, Val. Have you forgotten the thousands upon thousands of dollars
we’ve already spent on procedures that haven’t worked?”

She pointed at
Seun
.
“He says there’s a good success rate.”

“And with all due respect…” David glanced
at
Seun
. “… He said that about the embryo donation,
the fertility shots, and the artificial insemination…and none of it worked.”

“So what if it hasn’t worked?” Valerie
grabbed her purse from the floor. “Does it mean we stop trying?”

“I just need a guarantee this time, Val. What
sense does it make to keep putting money into something if it’s not working?”

“We never tried
this
one!” Valerie jumped up. “The money doesn’t matter, David.”

David stood as well.

“What didn’t work before doesn’t matter,
David. Nothing matters, but that this could be what works this time.”

He put his hands on his hips. “Like we
thought everything else was gonna work?”

“Damn you!” She shoved him. “It’s a
chance
, David. We have a chance at
having a baby. Why would you not want that?”

“You know I want it, but—”

“You want it?” She stomped to the door and
opened it. “Maybe you can be a little more convincing of that then.”

She marched down the hall.

“Val?” He ran in behind her. “Val!”

He grabbed her and she swung around,
shouting. “Let go of me! I can’t believe that God has blessed us with another
opportunity, and the first thing out of your mouth is how much it costs?”

“What do you expect?” He moved aside when
a nurse passed. “You act like money just falls out of the sky. We got bills on
top of bills because of this.”

“I can’t believe this.” Valerie touched
her forehead. “You don’t want a baby. Why don’t you just admit it?”

“You know that’s not true. Ever since we
met I wanted nothing more than to have a child with you, but you need to be
honest with yourself. Maybe it’s not meant for you to have a baby.”

“
Oh
.”
She backed away with her mouth open. “David.”

“Val, wait.”

She walked through the clinic, flying past
corners and elevators. “How could you say that?!”

David stayed on her heels. “Val!”

“Uh- uh.” She threw open the double-glass
doors of the clinic and walked down one of the many sidewalks of the Texas
Medical Center.

“Val, wait.” David ran up behind her. “I
didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but—”

“Then what did you mean?” She flicked her
long, wavy hair off her shoulder. “It’s like we have everything.” She leaned
against their shiny black Mercedes. “Yet still we have nothing.”

“How can you say that?” He grabbed her. “I
love you, but we got to be realistic.”

“Everyone thinks we have everything.” A
tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re this big marketing executive, and I’m a
computer analyst.” She threw up her arm. “We live in one of the most
prestigious areas in Houston.” She chuckled. “People see us as this black power
couple with the perfect life, but it’s a lie. It’s a damn lie!”

“Not having a baby isn’t the end of the
world.”

“How can you say that?” Tears rolled down
her face. “You know being a mother is all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t care how
much it costs. I’ll do anything I have to.”

He touched his neat goatee. “You’re…”

 
“I’m
what?” She lifted her head. “Say it.”

“Don’t you see what’s happening here?
Having a baby…or figuring out how to…is all you think about. It’s like our
marriage is nothing to you unless we have a kid. You’re obsessed with getting
pregnant, Val.”

“…says the man who already has a son.”

He lowered his head.

“You know how it feels to be a parent,
David. Don’t rob me of that.”

“I just feel like I’m losing you.” He
stepped back. “I just want the woman who thought of something other than being
pregnant to be there sometimes. I need my wife, Val.” He took his keys out.
“Sometimes I feel like you keep me around only to be a sperm donor.”

“That’s not true.”

He opened the car with the remote, saying,
“But that’s what it’s beginning to feel like.”

Valerie’s cell phone buzzed from her
purse. She got it out and checked the ID. “It’s Momma.”

She answered it as she got into the passenger’s
seat. “What? … Oh no.” She sighed. “Is she okay? … She thought the house was on
fire?... Jesus.”

David put the keys in the ignition,
asking, “She what?”

“Okay thanks, Momma… I love you too… I’ll
give David your love… Bye.”

As she hung up, David touched her thigh
with concern. “What is it?”

“Layla is back at Wellington,” she
explained as she put her phone up.

 
“What?
Oh my God.”

“Yeah, she had a breakdown last night. She
hallucinated and thought the house was on fire.”