An Unexpected Love (Women's Fiction/BWWM Romance) (2 page)

Layla walked through the front grounds,
checking out any differences since she’d last been to Wellington. She’d probably
stayed there more than at home in twenty years of marriage.

She passed a group of unfamiliar faces on
the sidewalk.

 
At
least she had the means to be in a private facility, as opposed to something
that resembled the mental hospitals often seen in horror films.

Wellington wasn’t a bad place to be. The
guidelines weren’t that strict. Except for sessions and evaluations, it
resembled a vacation retreat more than a psychiatric facility.

Others seemed to make the best of the
place too. Some played checkers under a tree. Some walked around or talked at
one of the many tables. She had yet to see someone she knew, which was strange.
She usually found a familiar face when she came back. Maybe their meds or
therapy had worked so when they left,
they
stayed gone.

A short, fat guy with stubby fingers
wandered up to Layla and stopped. “I love your music, Dolly.”

Layla’s eyes rolled in every direction. “Excuse
me?”

“You’re Dolly Parton.” He rubbed his hands
together. “I knew you’d come.”

Jesus.

Layla moved hair out of her eyes. “I’m not
Dolly Parton.” She held her hands out. “I’m not even the right shade.”

He grinned, showing the gaps in between
each tooth. “Sing something.”

 
“I
told you, I’m not Dolly Parton.”

 
She
tried to walk past, but he blocked her. “Yeah you are. Sing ‘I Will Always Love
You.’” He closed his eyes and put his hands together. “Sing like you wrote it
just for me.”

“Look, you better get away from me.” Layla
tried to pass again but he wouldn’t let her. “Move!”

“Andrew?” The handsome, blond white guy,
who’d been staring at Layla since she checked in, walked up. “Go on about your
business.”

Andrew pointed to Layla. “That’s Dolly
Parton. She gonna sing to me.”

“If she looks like Dolly Parton to you, then
they definitely need to adjust your meds.” The blond guy shoved Andrew. “Go on
and don’t bother her anymore, all right?”

Andrew giggled into his hand as he walked
off.

The white guy grinned. “Dolly Parton, huh?
I bet that’s the first time you ever got mixed up with her.”

Layla put her hands in the pocket of her
jeans.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh, just crazy like the rest of us.” He
gestured to the six people who sat at the table by the recycling bin. “That’s
the schizophrenic table right there.”

She stuck her neck out. “Excuse me?”

“You’re schizophrenic, right?” He shrugged.
“So are they. That’s your table.”

She grimaced and he tapped her arm. “Hey,
I’m just joking. You know like how it was back in high school and every clique
had their own table? It’s like that here.”

Layla rolled her eyes.
 
“I’ve been to Wellington many times, and I’ve
never known there was a schizophrenic table.”

He laughed. “Maybe you just didn’t
notice.”

“I never saw you here before, either.” She
trotted to the table and sat on the chair at the edge. “What table do you
belong to?”

“That one.” He pointed to the crowded table
at the other end of the yard. “The bipolar peeps,” he answered as he sat beside
her.

“You’re bipolar?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He simply dipped his head.

“How did you know I was schizophrenic?”

“News travels fast.” He tilted his head,
staring. “It’s another thing that’s
kinda
like
school. You know how it is when the new kid shows up? Everyone wants to know
more about them. I asked around.”

“May I ask why you’re so interested in me?”

“I don’t know.” He moved his head left and
right. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She looked him up and down. “How long you
been here?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Voluntary too?”

He nodded. “I saw you with your daughter
earlier. She looked just like you.”

“I’m not surprised you noticed us with the
way you were staring.”

He blushed. “Was that your husband?”

“Ex-husband.” She laid her hands on the
table. “Been divorced a month.”

“Just a month?” He bucked his eyes. “I’ve
been divorced three years.”

“Did your wife dump you because you’re
crazy too?” Then she winked.

“No, she dumped me because
she
was.”

They laughed.

“That’s good.” He pointed to her. “I think
that’s the first time you’ve laughed or smiled since you got here.”

Layla cleared her throat and looked away
as he asked, “Mind if I asked why you got divorced?”

“He was sick of my problems. It took a
toll on him and our marriage. I guess I can’t blame him. He put up with a lot
in the last twenty years.”

“Twenty years?” He squinted. “How old are
you?”

“Forty.”

“No shit. Me too but…” He touched the
table. “You sure don’t look forty.”

“Neither do you.” She smiled. “Maybe our
illnesses keep us youthful.”

“
Maybe
.”
He turned his body more toward her. “All kidding aside, I’m sorry about your
divorce. I remember how hard it was for me. The adjustment period was a killer,
but you’ll get through it.”

“That’s something my husband definitely
wouldn’t say.” She grinned. “I mean my ex-husband.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never really told me I could do
anything. He was always there to complain and criticize, but never threw out
too many compliments.” She touched her hair. “Basically everything from the
weather to nine-eleven was my fault.”

He propped his elbow on the table. “Sounds
like my ex-wife.”

“We fought about that constantly.
Something would go wrong…and he’d blame me and…” She looked at her fingers. “I
don’t care what he thinks. I just wish my daughter didn’t hate me.”

“She didn’t seem to hate you earlier.”

“My other daughter.” Layla stared across
the yard. “My oldest. She’s seventeen, and nothing I do is ever good enough.
She’s mad at me, and I wish I knew exactly why.”

“I have a fifteen-year-old myself.” He sat
against the table. “We haven’t always gotten along, so I understand.”

“I think part of Aliyah’s problem is she’s
afraid of turning into me. Schizophrenia runs in our family. My dad had it, and
his mother had it and
her
mother.”
She moved her hands from the table. “I just wish Aliyah would talk to me about
it. If only she’d open up.”

“It’ll get better.” He touched her
shoulder. “You just gotta believe that.”

“Damn.” She tapped her forehead. “I’m up
here telling you all my business, and I don’t even know your name.”

He held out his hand. “Cross Evers.”

She shook his hand saying, “Cross Evers? Sounds
like a name in a romance novel.”

He smiled. “And
you’re
Layla Oates-Sham.” He lifted his finger before she could speak. “Layla’s a
pretty name.”

She tingled. “Thanks, but it’s just Oates
now. How did you know my name?”

“I found out your name during my
investigation on you.”

“And what else did you find out?”

“I’m glad to say nothing else.”

She got lost in his hazel eyes. “Why are
you glad?”

He leaned in to her. “It gives me an
excuse to get to know you better.”

She smiled.

“Martin, I told you...” Corrine Oates
walked around her spacious living room in her lavender Morgan Taylor Charmeuse
wrap. “…I think it’s best we keep business between us, and that’s it,” she said
into her cell phone.

“Oh, come on,” he growled. “You mean to
tell me when you’re looking into that camera during your broadcasts every night
that you’re not wishing the camera wasn’t between us?”

She smacked her lips. “Not really, no.”

“Why do you like to torture me so much? I
know you feel something for me. We’ve worked together for six years.”

She sat on her brown Divan couch, saying, “And
that’s one reason why I would never date you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play with me.” She grabbed the
opened bottle of red wine and filled the champagne glass. “You don’t think I
know you banged every female news anchor that’s ever worked for Channel
Twelve?” She sipped from the glass. “That’s why all of them left.”

“So you’re going on rumors? That’s why you
won’t go out with me?”

“No, that’s not the reason.”

She crossed her legs as he breathed into
the phone, asking, “Then what is it?”

She set the glass down, leaned her head
back, and tugged on her long, thick waves. “I’m not attracted to you.”

“Is that right? Then who are you attracted
to?”

An image of David’s tall, muscular, caramel
body flashed into her head. She shoved her hand between her legs to thwart that
familiar ache.

“You don’t know him.” She grabbed her
glass. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Martin, but…” Her doorbell rang, cutting
her off. “Hold on.”

She ran out of the living room and to the
front door.

“
Ooo
,” she
purred as she peeked through the peephole.

She licked her lips as David stood on the
stoop, looking as delicious as ever.

She fixed her wrap as she spoke into the
phone, “I gotta go, Martin.”

 
“Corrine,
I…”

She hung up as David rang the doorbell
again.

“Just a minute!” Corrine backed up from
the door and checked herself out in the hallway mirror.

“It’s me, Corrine. David!”

She combed her fingers through her hair
and checked her teeth. She pulled her Charmeuse down lower so her cleavage
showed.

She opened the door and leaned against it.
“Hi, David.”

“Hi,” he mumbled.

“Ooh.” She grimaced. “That looks like
another one of those I-had-a-fight-with-your-big-sister-again faces.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Just looking into those warm, brown eyes
gave her chills. “Come on in.”

“You sure?”

“You know I’m here for you when you need
me.”

“Thanks.” He walked in, staring at her
clothing or lack of it. “Uh…” He turned away. “Were you getting ready to go to
bed?”

“No, I was just having a sip of wine in
the living room. You want some?”

They went into the living room.

“No I…” He rubbed his hands. “Maybe I’d
better go.”

“Why?” She got her glass and sat on the
couch. “Is something wrong?”

“Well uh…” He glanced around. “You’re in
your nightgown, and you obviously wanted to chill out, and I’m interrupting.”

“You’re not interrupting me.” She patted
the couch and sipped her wine while batting her eyes. “I’m never too busy for
you.”

He exhaled and sat beside her. “What’s the
occasion?”

“You mean the wine?” She looked into the
glass. “Had a hard night at work.”

He smiled and placed his hands on his
thighs. “You didn’t look like you did.”

 
“What
do you mean?”

“I caught the nine o’clock news as usual.
If something was bothering you, believe me, viewers couldn’t tell it.”

“Really?”

“You were made for the camera.” He looked
into her eyes. “And let me just say you are the prettiest anchorwoman Houston’s
ever had.”

She lightly tapped his arm. “Stop.”

“I mean it. You draw people to you. You’re
so comforting and so easy to talk to…like Val
used
to be.”

“I don’t care what you say…” She poured
more wine into her glass and handed it to him. “You definitely need some wine.”

He grinned and sipped from the glass.

“Okay, let me guess.” She crossed her
arms. “You two had another argument about babies?”

“She’s…I don’t know what’s wrong with her.
This morning we went to see Dr.
Seun
again, and he
started mentioning another procedure. Of course she was all ready to do it
without taking into account money or insurance or nothing.”

“That’s my big sis.” Corrine nodded. “When
she wants something, she goes after it with abandon.”

“She flipped out when I told her maybe
it’s just not meant to be for her to have kids.”

Corrine gaped as he continued, “I know it
was a fucked up thing to say.” He propped the champagne glass against his
thigh. “But I can’t take this shit anymore. I love her, and if it’s meant for
us to have a child then fine. But we can’t drive ourselves into the poorhouse
in the process.” He leaned his head back. “It’s like she doesn’t care about
anything but having a baby. I swear if I got up and left tomorrow, she wouldn’t
even notice.”

“You know that’s not true.” Corrine fought
the urge to run her hands through his smooth hair. “Ever since we were kids,
Val wanted to be a mother. You know how little girls act like their dolls are
their kids?”

He nodded.

“She took it to a whole other level. She
made up social security numbers for her dolls,” she said with a laugh.

David chuckled as well, “Say what?”

“Yep. I don’t think anyone’s ever wanted
kids as much as Val. It really hurts her, David. For her, not having kids is a
huge blow to her as a woman. You gotta understand that.”

“I swear I’ve tried to understand.” He
sipped wine. “You know I have. How many times have I come over here because Val
and I fight over the same damn thing?” He propped his feet up on her black
Syrah coffee table. “I’m just tired, Corrine.” He pinched the bridge of his
nose. “I’m sick of talking about the same shit. What got us started tonight was
she was talking to Dr.
Seun
on the phone like she was
making arrangements.”

Corrine shook her head in disbelief.

“Can you believe that? How dare she go
behind my back like that? I just lost it.” He set the glass on the table. “I
love her, but I’m really starting to wonder if love is enough.” He stretched
out his arms and groaned. “I’m stressed every damn where. I feel it all in my
neck.”

She caressed his arm. “You think things
will get better, right?”

She held her breath, waiting anxiously for
his answer.

“I don’t know. If we’re fighting all the
time, maybe that’s a sign.”

“You can’t mean that you wanna split up.”

“Course I don’t, but I can’t keep going
through this. I’m sick of being ignored. Why can’t she just appreciate me? Why
can’t I be enough?”

“You
are
enough,” she told him as
she took his hand. “You’re more than enough. If Val can’t accept that, then
she’s only hurting herself.”

He rubbed his shoulder as he asked, “You
got any Advil or something to get some of these aches out?”

“I got something better than that.” She
cracked her knuckles. “Magic fingers.”

“What?”

“Turn around.”

“Excuse me?”

“Turn your butt around.” She guided him as
he turned his back to her. “Now take off your shirt.”

He took it off and laid it on the table. She
placed her hands on his broad shoulders and worked her fingers.

“Oh.” He moaned. “Jesus, this feels good.”

“Did Val tell you I was a part-time
masseuse in college?”

“No.” He rocked with the movement of her
hands. “Man, this feels good.”

“You’re all tight.” She sat up on her
knees. “See I can feel the tension way down in the muscles.” She sniffed his
head. His hair smelled like Head and Shoulders. “Feels good?”

“God yes.
Whoo
. Don’t
stop.”

She moved her hands down his back. “You
like that?”

“Yeah. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“I can’t stop you and Val from fighting. I
wish I could.”

“I’m anxious about everything these days.
I got this huge marketing campaign I gotta develop for work, but fighting Val
every damn day is making even that hard.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t afford to screw this campaign up.
You think Val has even asked me about it?” He scoffed. “Please. She acts like
nothing exists outside of a baby.”

“I’d love to hear about your work,” she
said as she continued to massage him.

“I don’t wanna bore you.”

Bore
me? I could listen to you talk for the next hundred years and not be bored.

“Sometimes I wish I could just be someone
else for about a year and let go of all the bullshit,” he said.

“I know what you mean. Seems like
something is happening every time I turn around. Did you know Layla is back in
Wellington?”

“Yeah, and that’s so sad.” He shook his
head. “She was doing so well.”

“That’s schizophrenia for you. She can be
normal for a while, and everything seems fine. Then she goes off the deep end
again.”

He slightly turned his head toward her. She
stopped massaging his back as he asked, “Can I tell you something?”

 
“What?”

“You gotta promise you won’t tell anyone I
said this.”

She poked his arm. “What?”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

He faced her. “I always thought of how it
would’ve been if I met you first, you know?”

Her breasts heaved as she took in another
deep breath. “You have?”

“I hope this doesn’t make you
uncomfortable.”

“No.”

“I’m not trying to come on to you. I just
wanted you to know. You’ve always been so easy to talk to. Lately with Val,
it’s been chaos after chaos. I like coming here because it’s the calm after the
storm.” He looked at her lips. “You listen to me and you think about me. I
don’t know if Val does at all anymore.”

Her voice caught in her throat. “Sure she
does.”

“You’ve been a wonderful friend, Corrine.”
He took her hand. “Whenever I’ve needed someone you’ve been there. It’s nice
having
some
attention again.”

“May I be honest too?”

“Sure.”

He blinked as she scooted closer to him.

“I’ve thought about it too,” she confessed.
“How it would’ve been if we’d met before you met Val.”

He looked down and she laid her hand under
his chin, lifting his head.

“I’ve always dreamed of a man like you. I
admit it makes me mad to think Val doesn’t appreciate you.”

He moved her hand. “Corrine…”

 
“I
can’t see how she could ignore you for one second.” She gripped his hand. “I
never could.” She moved her mouth to his. “No matter how hard I tried.”

“I…” He leaned back. “…I’d better go.” He
stuttered as he got his shirt and stood.

She anxiously grabbed the end of the
shirt. “You don’t have to.”

 
He
flung his shirt on and headed out of the room, saying, “The hell I don’t.”

Corrine called after him. “David…”

As he left, he shot over his shoulder, “Goodnight,
Corrine.”