The Naked Truth

by Vi Keeland

  My car inched forward at a snail’s pace, with a long line of cabs in front of us waiting to make a left turn. Eventually, I no longer had to crane my neck, and the three of them passed us. Gray seemed oblivious that he’d even walked by his own town car.

  I stared at their backs as they walked. With tiny little Ella in the middle holding their hands, they looked like any other family walking in New York City. The longer I watched, the more my eyes started to lose focus.

  God…a family.

  I’m not ready for that.

  We’re not ready for that. We’d barely gotten over our own problems and started to move forward. Couples were supposed to go through stages to prepare them for being ready for a family. Even if I’d gotten pregnant, we would have had nine months to warm to the idea.

  My eyes began to come into focus as they walked farther up the street, but my vision also started to play tricks on me. While Ella and Gray were crisp in my line of sight, Max began to fade away. A little at a time, I watched the woman turn into a shadow and then completely disappear. Erased from the picture, she vanished. When she came back into focus a few seconds later, I swallowed my breath. I no longer saw Max…she’d been replaced by…me. Staring, the vision seemed so real—Gray and me walking hand in hand with Ella between us.

  That’s how it would be, wouldn’t it?

  Fade out Max.

  Fade in Layla.

  I shut my eyes to get rid of the vision, only to realize it wouldn’t go away. I still saw it.

  Fade out Max.

  Fade in Layla.

  ***

  I shut off my phone during the deposition. It had been difficult to focus the entire morning, and ten minutes into questioning the defendant, I realized I kept staring at my cell, waiting for something to come in from Gray. My client deserved better representation than that, and I needed to throw myself into my work to maintain my sanity today.

  It was nearly five o’clock by the time I turned it back on. Messages started to flood in, the majority of them from Gray. Most had been sent within a minute of each other, capturing his stream of thoughts.

  Gray: She’s incredible. So smart.

  Gray: She didn’t cry.

  Gray: I might’ve when I got home.

  I smiled sadly at my phone, reading that one.

  Gray: You were right. She’s already potty trained.

  Gray: No more YouTube diaper videos. Thank God. It felt fucking weird to watch a naked baby.

  Gray: She hugged me goodbye.

  Gray: I didn’t want to let go.

  The time on his texts had a long lapse, then…

  Gray: I can’t wait for you to get to know her, too.

  I’d never been a big drinker, but in that moment, I wished I kept a bottle of something in my desk. I could use a giant swig to calm my nerves.

  Gray’s last text had come in about an hour ago.

  Gray: Hope your day was good. Dinner tonight?

  I avoided responding to that and instead scanned through my other missed texts. There was one from Quinn, one from a client, and one from Kristen…my half sister. For some odd reason, I chose to open that one, which usually I’d avoid like the plague.

  Kristen: Just passed a great little Korean restaurant. Dad’s favorite. We should have dinner there all together. Talk soon!

  I heard her chipper voice, even in a text.

  My desk had a stack of missed call memos, so I focused on those for a little while. But by six, my phone had started buzzing again, and I really didn’t have to look at the name to know who it would be.

  Gray: You read my texts an hour ago. What’s going on in that head of yours, Freckles?

  I smiled.

  Layla: Sorry. Deposition was all day, and then I had to return some business calls before it got too late. I’m glad everything worked out with Ella.

  I watched my text turn to delivered, then read. The dots started to jump around as he responded, then stopped. A moment later, my cell rang in my hand.

  Gray responded to my hello in a sexy, throaty tone. “I needed to hear your voice.”

  “It sounds like you just woke up.”

  “Nope. Just came back from a run.”

  I’d forgotten that his run had been interrupted this morning. “Oh.”

  “So were you really busy or just avoiding me?”

  I answered on reflex. “I was busy.”

  “Layla…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I was avoiding you. But I am busy, too.”

  I heard the gloat and smile in his voice. “Haven’t you figured out by now that you can’t avoid me? If you hadn’t responded soon, I’d be at your office checking on you. I’m not giving up on us that easily, sweetheart. I understand it’s a lot at once, and I’ll give you time to take it in if you need it. But I want to know you’re not pushing me away, and it’s just time you need.”

  In the midst of his life being turned upside down, he was the levelheaded one. It felt like I should be there for him to lean on me. But I was scared. Each time I made the decision to move forward—take a chance to be all in—something else pushed back. The least I could do was be honest.

  “I watched the three of you walking to the park this morning. It just hit me…you have a family now.”

  “Max isn’t my family.”

  “I know. I just meant…the three of you looked like a family. And I realized that being with you, meant…”

  “I don’t expect you to replace Max in Ella’s life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  I sort of was. I sighed. “It’s just hard. I’m...I’m…scared, Gray.”

  “Me too, babe. Me too. But I’m more scared of losing you again than of all the other shit coming my way. We’ll figure it out.”

  God, he was so sweet. “Okay.”

  “Dinner tonight?”

  I just wasn’t up for it. The last few days had taken a mental toll. My first instinct was to lie and say I had plans. But I went with honesty because he deserved at least that much. “I need a night at home, by myself, Gray.”

  He took a minute before answering. “I understand.”

  I hated the hurt in his voice. “Are you seeing Ella again soon?”

  “The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to fly up to Chicago for the day to meet with my partners and the CEO of a company we’re investing in. I won’t be back until late. But Max and I had a civil conversation while Ella was playing at the park. I’m going to spend as much time as I can with the two of them, so she can get to know me. Once Ella’s more comfortable, Max will drop out of the picture for my visits. I want you to get to know her, too, if you can handle that.”

  “Let’s take things one step at a time. Focus on you and Ella. You don’t need to worry about me right now.”

  “I can do that better if you tell me you’re not kicking my ass to the curb.”

  I smiled. “I’m still with you.”

  “I might make you repeat that every day, Freckles. Like a mantra.”

  Chapter 29

  * * *

  Gray

  Google had become my best friend.

  How to sign “how are you?”

  What do three-year-olds eat?

  Toys to buy a three-year-old child.

  Girl toys to buy a three-year-old.

  Things to talk about with a three-year-old girl.

  Stage four breast cancer.

  What the hell is Yo Gabba Gabba?

  Today I was going to Max’s apartment to spend time with her and Ella at home. When she’d suggested I come to her place, I automatically wanted to say no way. No fucking way I want to be stuck inside the same four walls as you—even if the place is the size of a palace. But after I gave it some thought, I realized I needed to be more flexible and do what was best for Ella. I needed to do whatever would help her open up to me, and that would probably happen best on her own home turf, rather than in a stranger’s apartment. So I didn’t fight it. My feelings for Max, my instinct to fight everything she
wanted, had to take a backseat to my little girl.

  My little girl.

  It was truly surreal.

  Max had said that Ella’s favorite thing to do was take long walks. She loved to look around the busy city from inside her stroller. So when I stopped off at the toy store up on 82nd Street—the one I passed by all the time, but never went inside—I knew what to get her the moment my eyes landed on it.

  The Radio Flyer 4-in-1 Stroll ‘N Trike, in pink. It was like a stroller and tricycle all in one. She could learn how to pedal if she wanted, but it had a footrest for when she got too tired. I found myself tugging on the three-point harness and asking a teenage store clerk safety questions that made his face wrinkle like I’d just sprung a pop Physics quiz on him.

  I arrived at the address Max had given me and was surprised to find it was a brownstone in Brooklyn rather than a swanky penthouse on the Upper East Side. I personally liked the quiet streets of this area, but Max had always been about the hustle and bustle of Manhattan.

  I rang the bell, and Max opened the door. She was dressed in a white tank top, and it really hit me then how much weight she’d lost. When I’d seen her the other day, she’d had on a sweater. Of course I’d seen it in her thinned face, but that wasn’t the half of it. The full visual was pretty damn alarming. Her collarbones and shoulder blades jutted out—all the meat was gone. She was little more than a skeleton with skin, and that skin was sallow.

  She stepped aside for me to enter. Apparently I hadn’t done such a good job of hiding my thoughts.

  “It’s from the chemotherapy. That’s why I stopped it. Refractory vomiting. The anti-nausea and vomiting medicine stopped working. I couldn’t do it any more. I want to enjoy what time I have left with my daughter, not spend it with my head hanging in the toilet bowl.”

  I nodded and walked in.

  Max looked at her watch as we stood in the foyer. “Ella’s late getting up from her nap. She usually sleeps for an hour, but she’s a little over. I don’t wake her if she goes long. I feel like her body knows when it’s time to get up. But I can wake her if you want?”

  Yes. I can’t stand here with just you.

  “No. It’s fine. Let her wake up on her own.”

  Note to self, nap length is determined by the child, not the adult. One less thing to Google. I felt like I should have a notepad and pen.

  “I was just going to make some tea. I drag by the early afternoon. That’s why I only work mornings now. The caffeine helps me keep alert enough to watch Ella play. What can I make you?”

  “Tea is fine.”

  I didn’t really want to be inside Max’s place, and definitely not making small talk. But what the hell was I supposed to do?

  On the way to the kitchen, I glanced around a bit. The brownstone she lived in was pretty damn nice—custom millwork, high ceilings, wide-plank, white oak flooring, glazed windows with stained glass, a shit ton of light.

  “Nice place,” I said.

  Max filled a cast iron kettle with water from the tap. “Thank you. It will be yours soon. I left it to you in my will.”

  “What?”

  She set the kettle on the stovetop and turned on the flame. “I bought it with the money I stole from you. It’s the least I could do. Don’t take under two million for it when you sell it. There’s no mortgage.”

  She’d shocked me twice in the span of two minutes. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Thanks, I guess?”

  Max leaned against the kitchen sink, while I stayed on the other side of the spacious center island. Distance from her was welcomed.

  “There’s also ninety thousand in my savings and a term life insurance policy. I left the policy benefits to Ella, but you’re the trustee, so you can manage it for her.”

  It was fucked up to be having this conversation. But when do you have this type of talk when you only have a few months to live? You never know what day will wind up being your last. No point in waiting.

  “Okay. Any other legal things I should know?”

  She looked me straight in the eyes. It was the first time I’d let that happen since I’d found out what she’d done. Even when she’d come to the prison to tell me my father died, I wouldn’t look at her. I couldn’t do it the other day at the park, either. But I did today for some reason. Maybe seeing her physically wasting away had given me an ounce of compassion.

  “When I went to see Layla, I was curious about her—jealous, even. But I also wasn’t lying. Aiden stole all the money that we stole from you. You should get it back.”

  I shook my head with a sardonic laugh. “You were really two peas in a pod, huh?”

  “I’m sorry for what I did to you, Gray. I know there’s no apology big enough for losing years of your life. God knows I see that now. But I truly am.”

  I stared at her. The woman had suckered me into a marriage, stolen millions of dollars, had me imprisoned for a crime she’d committed, and hidden the fact that I had a daughter for years. And yet…a part of me believed her.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Why’d you do it?” I asked.

  That had been the number one thing I’d pondered over and over during the first months of my sentence—until I decided it didn’t matter, and that I wouldn’t ever move on by focusing on shit I couldn’t change.

  Max looked down for a few minutes. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. “You didn’t really love me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I loved you.”

  “You have a really fucking funny way of showing it.”

  “For years I wanted you, and you didn’t see me. You saw me as your partner, not one of the women you took out and slept with.”

  “I fucking married you!”

  “And you still didn’t love me the way I loved you.”

  “So you decided to screw one of our employees, steal money, and set me up? To what? Punish me?”

  “I thought Aiden really loved me.”

  “You can’t be that fucking desperate for a man to love you.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t make sense. But I was angry that after all those years of loving you, you still didn’t love me like you should have. Once we got married, I thought about backing out of what Aiden and I had planned. Deep down, I still loved you and thought maybe you would finally love me back. But you didn’t see me as the love of your life.”

  I stared at her, completely dumbfounded—and too damn angry to continue this conversation. When her tears started to fall, it made me even more pissed off at myself. I shouldn’t have felt bad for her. Yet I did.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “I need to take a walk. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  ***

  I walked for a good hour along the nearby promenade. Actually, at some point, I started to jog, then run, then sprint as fast as I possibly could. It wasn’t until I was bent over, with my hands on my knees gasping for air, that I realized what I’d done. I’d needed my breath to catch up to the speed of the shit flying through my head.

  What the fuck was wrong with Max? I hadn’t loved her enough? We were fucking friends, business partners. I’d never had a damn clue that she had feelings for me. It wasn’t like she’d told me, or even made any advances in that way. I’d thought we’d gotten married on a whim, while drunk on an island vacation celebration. It was a joke at first, until she’d suggested we give it an actual try. After a bit, I’d started to settle into the arrangement. It had seemed convenient for both of us. So maybe I didn’t love her the way a man should love a wife, but that’s a reason to ruin my life?

  All this time, when I’d reflected back, I’d assumed she was just pure evil. I’d had no idea that she was batshit crazy and evil. We’re talking Glenn Close, Fatal Attraction, bunny-boiling crazy here.

  After I’d calmed down, I realized I needed to put this shit out of my head for the sake of my daughter. Ella had to be my priority now. I couldn’t
let Max steal any more time from me. So I walked back to her house, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell.

  The little face that yelled my name when the door opened gave me strength to go back inside.

  ***

  “Today is Wednesday,” Ella signed as she spoke. I really needed to learn a shit ton more sign language. I’d learned a few words and sentences on various YouTube videos, but Ella seemed like she had an entire language down.

  “Yep. Today is Wednesday. Can you teach me how to sign that?”

  Max had left us alone once Ella seemed comfortable with me. I was grateful to concentrate on her and not have another pow wow with her mother.

  Ella nodded and went through the motions of signing the words again.

  “Like this?”

  I signed them, and she cracked up.

  “No. Like this, silly.”

  She did it again, and I’ll be damned if I saw any difference. But I gave it another shot anyway.

  She laughed again. Apparently I’d still done it wrong. Ella folded my thumb and pinky down, bringing them to touch together, and then stopped and showed me the same position of her hand. “W.”

  “Ah. I get it now. The three fingers form the letter W.”

  I had no idea when kids started to spell, but I was pretty damn sure it wasn’t before the age of three. Yet my daughter knew Wednesday began with W. My chest expanded a little bit.

  Ella held my hand, guiding it to draw a circle with my three fingers. “Wednesday,” she said as we looped the circle closed.

  I tapped her nose with my finger. “How’d you get so smart?”

  “From my daddy.”

  I froze. What the—had Max told her? I thought we’d agreed it was best to wait a while, let her get to know me before we told her who I was. Or…maybe she referred to Aiden as her father. That thought made me feel sick.

  “Your daddy?”

  She nodded fast. “Mommy says I’m smart like my daddy.”

  When she didn’t add any more, I thought it best to change the subject.