Page 51 of The Playboy's Playbook

“I’m sorry, Matty.” Luke pats my shoulder.

“I can’t blame anyone or anything else except for myself. You told me what I needed to do and I just kept pushing it off.” I drop my eyes to the floor and ask the question I’m not sure I want the answer to. “How’d she look?”

“Like someone ran over Nola. Her eyes were so red and puffy, I thought she was having an allergic reaction at first. Not even Clay’s seashell costume made her smile,” Luke says, sounding equally upset.

“She’ll never trust me again, Luke. Hell, she probably won’t talk to me again.”

Luke sighs before he speaks. “She’s hurt, Matty, but can you blame her? You knew good and well that you should’ve told her about your record from the moment you started falling for her. Now, just give her time and space.”

I stare straight ahead, soaking in Luke’s words. I feel a tear fall down my cheek and I don’t bother wiping it away. Luke doesn’t give me shit for crying in front of him.

“I love her.”

Luke pats me on my knee and we sit in silence for a moment before he finally says, “And she still loves you.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

LAILA

The day I ended things with Matthew hurt like hell. I cried myself to sleep, snuggling Nola close to my chest. My pillows still smelled like him, so Nola buried herself on them to feel like he was still here.

The second day was absolute torture. Erica dropped by to check on me and when I opened the door, she was holding pink carnations with baby’s breath mixed in. “I wish I could say I bought these, but they were sitting on the steps.”

I knew who they were from without having to read the card, but I did anyway.

I won’t give up on you. On us.

P.S., you will always be my baby.

Matty

I rub my forehead and I’m transported to all the times Matthew would kiss me there. It was comforting, the feel of his lips on me, his arms around my waist holding me close to him.

Even though I want to throw these flowers in the trash bin and set the note on fire, I grab a vase, fill it with water, and place the flowers in the vase.

Just like I used to do.

The third day was slightly easier. My mom called and said she would be passing through in a few weeks, so I had something to look forward to. Nola and I went on walks around the neighborhood because I didn’t want to keep her locked in the house all day.

Days four through six were a blur and honestly, it was a miracle I got out of bed at all. Now, it’s day seven and I see no light at the end of the tunnel.

The doorbell rings, pulling me back to reality. I check the cameras and see Luke, Clay, and Jen on the porch. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since I dropped Matthew’s things off with Luke.

“Hey boys. To what do I owe this surprise visit?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

“We were told you were very sad,” Jen says, handing me a bouquet.

“Thank you, Jen. They’re beautiful.” I force a smile. Nola licks at Jen and Clay’s hand, earning a giggle from the boys.

“Uncle Matty helped us pick this out! We hope you like it,” Clay says as he hands me a sparkling pink gift bag.

I stand and place the flowers on the table behind me and turn back to retrieve the bag from Clay’s outstretched hands. Just when I’m about to open the bag, Luke stops me.

“You don’t have to open it in front of us. I told them we were going to leave this on your doorstep so we wouldn’t bother you, but these two insisted on handing it to you personally.”

I smile at him and hold back the tears threatening to spill out. “Thank you.”

“Alright boys, come on. Let’s leave Laila alone.” Luke grabs his sons’ hands and leads them down the steps of the front porch. Before he gets too far, I stop him.

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