Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) (28 page)

“GOD, LAILAH . . . ANYTHING but that one. Please?” I begged.

She smiled up at me from her spot on the sofa. A soft chenille blanket was draped over her now rounded stomach as she glanced down at the tattered old composition book that held the one-hundred-forty-three dreams and wishes on her Someday List.

“You told me to pick whichever one I wanted,” she reminded me. “And I choose this one.” Her finger tapped the page, signifying the end of our calm existence as I knew it.

I groaned.

“A puppy? Really? You want to adopt a puppy . . . now? Can’t we just do something easy, like rake leaves?”

She gave me a doubtful look and laughed. “First of all, we’re in California . . . in the springtime. Do you see any leaves, genius?”

My lips curved into a grin at her sarcasm.

“Secondly, I don’t see why now isn’t the perfect time to get a puppy. It will give us great practice for the baby.” She shrugged, placing a hand on her belly. She’d successfully transitioned into her second trimester with little fuss and fanfare.

Well into her fourth month, the pregnancy was going well—too well.

It made me antsy, nervous.

“You want to practice your parenting skills on a puppy? How is that the same?” I argued, knowing it was completely pointless.

“Well, they’re both tiny and require constant care and love. And I thought a dog might keep me company when you’re gone next week,” she added.

Stupid annual board meeting.

Roman had said I didn’t need to go, but guilt mixed with doubt that my brother could actually handle everything on his own had me booking a flight and leaving my pregnant wife—something I had sworn I wouldn’t do.

“Okay, grab your shoes. Let’s go get you a dog,” I grumbled.

She jumped up, shrieking and laughing. “You’ll be just as excited as I am. Just wait. Once you see all those cute little puppies, you’ll turn into a puddle of goo.”

I gave her a doubtful sideways glance as she scurried off into the bedroom to find a pair of shoes. Grabbing the journal off the couch, I flipped through the pages, seeing all the numbers we’d managed to cross out over the last two years. It brought back a flood of memories with each scratch of the pen—the day we’d visited the Met or the afternoon we’d spent paddle boating around the lake at Central Park. I smiled as I saw the ones she’d recently drawn a line through as we’d made this book our goal over the last few weeks. My fingers moved from line to line, recalling each moment we had spent together.

It was like a retelling of our love story.

72. HAVE MY HEART BROKEN.

That was one that hurt to see crossed out, knowing I was the reason it had been fulfilled. But it was something I couldn’t regret. If I hadn’t walked away, she wouldn’t be here right now.

Carrying my child.

Possibly facing death—again.

“You ready to go?” Lailah asked, startling me.

“What? Oh, yes, let’s go!” I answered, quickly recovering.

Taking her hand, we headed for the car, feeling the crisp ocean breeze blowing through our hair, as we walked down the driveway. I breathed in deeply, letting the smell of the water and air fill my lungs. The smell of the beach was something I’d missed while living in New York, and now that I could simply step out onto my deck and take my fair share whenever I needed, I secretly never wanted to leave. I loved what I did, working for a company that had my family’s name on it, but the farther I got from the city, the less and less I wanted to return.

As we settled into the car, I realized I had no idea where we were headed.

“So, where does one go to get a puppy?” I asked, looking over at her for guidance.

She burst into laughter but covered her mouth quickly, trying to stop. “Oh, you really are from a wealthy family, aren’t you, babe?”

“What? I mean, do we go to the mall? Petco? Hell, I don’t know.” I held up my hands in defense.

“We could go to lots of places. But there are animal shelters everywhere. I found one online that looks incredible and has a huge selection right now.”

“Okay, lead the way,” I instructed, backing out of the driveway.

She began giving directions.

The place wasn’t too far away, maybe twenty minutes with traffic. We parked close to the entrance, and as we walked toward the door, I stopped.

Turning to face her, I asked, “You’re going to adopt the most pitiful, grungiest-looking puppy in there, aren’t you?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you have a thing for the underdog.”

“You weren’t an underdog,” she challenged, her hands going to her hips defiantly.

“I wasn’t much,” I said.

Her hand cupped my cheek. “Looks can be deceiving. And you were more than I could have possibly imagined—even if you didn’t have the Cavanaugh last name.”

I kissed her forehead and wove my fingers around hers. “Come on. Let’s go find a puppy.”

I was right.

After an hour of deliberation, she’d settled on a shy, scraggly little fuzzball that looked like he had been eaten alive by all his fur.

“Isn’t he the cutest thing in the world?” Lailah crooned, holding him in her lap in the car.

He curled up in her arms, his little nose peeking out just beyond the crook of her arm.

“He’s goofy-looking,” I replied.

“He’s adorable!” she scolded.

I laughed. “Okay, I’ll admit, he’s kind of cute—in a weird, fluffy sort of way. Can that stuff even be brushed?” I asked, pointing to the sporadic tufts of fur that sprung out in every direction off his body.

“I think he needs a bath. Maybe a trip to a groomer? I don’t know. He’s perfect just the way he is,” she said lovingly.

We stopped at the local pet store, buying everything that was recommended and more. Toys, shampoo, treats, food, and even a comfy dog bed were thrown into the cart.

“We need to get him a tag for his collar,” I said, pointing to the engraving machine near the front.

“Oh, okay!” Lailah answered excitedly, holding her new friend close to her chest.

“Angel—”

“Yeah?”

“You need to name him first.”

Her eyes went wide, and she stopped mid-aisle. “Oh. I guess we do. Well, hmm . . . what do you think we should name him? You seem to have all sorts of good names in that head of yours,” she replied with a knowing grin.

Yeah, that had been a good night.

“Harry?” I suggested, looking down at his wild mane.

Her face scrunched together, and she shook her head. “No, not that.”

She held the dog up, getting a good look at his tiny face. His little puppy-dog eyes met hers, and she giggled.

“We should name you after a famous book dog or something.”

“There are famous book dogs?” I questioned, leaning against the cart.
This was going to take a while.

“Of course there are! Bull’s-Eye from
Oliver Twist,
Toto from
The Wizard of Oz,
even Clifford from, well,
Clifford.
”

“So, you want to name him Clifford?” I asked, looking at the little runt, thinking he didn’t resemble the gigantic red dog in the least.

“Well, no. But maybe something similar?”

I looked at our crazy-looking mop of a dog, trying to picture him as the hero of some classic tale.

“Sandy?” I suggested. “It’s not exactly from a book, but you love the musical, and he’s kind of a tiny version of the original. And we are New Yorkers after all.”

“That’s perfect!” she exclaimed. “He does look like Sandy!”

The tag was made, making Sandy’s name official. I loaded our loot into the back of the car, rolling my eyes at the amount of stuff required for one five-pound dog. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much stuff we’d have to start gathering for the baby.

My stomach tightened when I realized neither of us had even talked about it yet.

No nursery had been discussed. No furniture or baby registry had been planned.

Nothing.

We’d decided as a team that we would celebrate everything—every ultrasound, every clean bill of health—and we had. A frame sat by the couch with the latest ultrasound proudly displayed, but it was as if we were unable to move past that point.

We talked about becoming parents all the time. We joked about the lack of sleep and the restless nights, yet neither of us were actually preparing for it.

What were we so scared of?

I
awoke, the faint sound of crying ringing in my ears.

“Lailah, the baby is awake,” I whispered, reaching for her across the bed.

But she was nowhere to be found.

Tossing the sheets aside, I stumbled down the hall, covered in darkness, until I saw the sliver of light peeking out the door. Pushing it open with my hand, I stepped forward, following the urgent cries within.

The moonlight cast a light glow upon the crib, and as I looked down, it created almost an angelic halo on his light-blond hair.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, reaching down to scoop him up.

My fingers ran through his tiny locks as his light-blue eyes studied me. Bouncing him lightly like I’d done a hundred times, we walked back and forth in front of the window, watching the dark waves crashing into the shoreline in the distance.

Within minutes, he was calm once again, his eyes dropping heavily.

“Want to go see Mommy before you nod off again?” I asked, cradling him to my chest, as I walked down the hall in search of Lailah.

I checked the kitchen first, wondering if maybe she’d decided to grab a late snack, but found nothing. The living room was empty as well.

My heart fluttered as I checked the deck, only to find it bare. My feet carried me back down the hall, checking room after room, until I found myself standing at the foot of our bed, staring at the place where I’d started.

A silver picture frame caught my eye, and I walked toward the nightstand. Picking up the photo, I looked down, tears falling from my face as I stared at the last picture taken of her.

“She’s gone,” I choked out. “She’s gone.”

“Sir?” Someone shook me, startling me back to reality. “Sir, we’re about to land.”

I looked around, taking in my surroundings, as my heart pounded in my chest. The roar of the engine filled my ears as the sound of the landing gear moved into place.

It was just a dream.

Lailah is alive,
I chanted.
Lailah is fine.

The nightmares had started a few weeks ago, a by-product of too much stress. So far, Lailah hadn’t noticed when I’d gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to step out onto the deck for air. And I hadn’t bothered to tell her.

I still fully believed that the least amount of stress in her life was the way to go. So far, it had worked.

I looked out of the window as the plane closed in on New York. It had been less than two months since I was here, having flown back briefly to pack up things for our new home, but it still felt like eons.

California was like another world compared to New York, and while I’d grown up here, I found myself loving the slow, laid-back life of the beach more and more with each passing day. Unfortunately, my job was here. I didn’t know how to change that. I couldn’t ask our entire company to relocate just because I liked the beach.

I took a deep breath, trying to relax, as the pilot landed the plane. Within minutes, the flight attendants had the doors open, and I was walking through the airport toward the row of cabs lining the front. My brother, of course, had beat me to it, and as I walked toward baggage claim, I spotted a man dressed in a sharp suit and tie, holding a sign with my last name neatly printed on it.

Shaking my head, I greeted him.

“Isn’t this a little beneath you?” I grinned, actually glad to see him for a change.

Roman smirked before quickly turning the sign over.

Welcome home, jackass,
it said.

“Now, that’s more like it.” I laughed.

We shook hands and headed out toward the front. The jet-black car he always had on standby was parked outside, and I quickly put my carryon in the trunk, not bothering to pester the driver with it. My brother fully embraced his wealthy lifestyle while I tended to use it only when it involved spoiling my wife.