Page 34 of Tag

What’s going on with you and Ryder???

Roxxi

Drop an eggplant if you’ve been secretly hooking up.

I scoffed at that, garnering the attention of a guy with shoulder-length blonde hair trying to study. I mouthed an apology and hurried past him.

Ari

You don’t have to tell us until you’re ready.

I sighed and sent a reply, so they didn’t think I was leaving them on read.

Nothing’s going on. It’s complicated.

You know that. I’m at the library now. Layla’s waiting. Fill you in later. Promise.

After sending the message, I felt a twinge of regret. I was getting into the habit of telling people we'd catch up later, only to end up distracted by side quests when later arrived. I watched the screen, noting the typing bubbles appearing. They had hoped for years that Ryder and I would become more than friends; in many ways, we had, but even without knowing all the reasons, we hadn't fully progressed. They at least understood that a relationship between us would be anything but ordinary.

I walked past more towering rows of books, wishing I could stay longer. Crowsfell's literary catalog was impressive, featuring some of the gritty bodice rippers that had fueled my early love for fiction with flawed characters and darker undertones.

I found Layla at a table near the back. She looked nothing like the put-together girl from that morning. Her face looked weary, her posture rigid, and her expression off. I could tell this was more than just a rough day.

"Lay?" I called softly, trying to keep my tone light.

She scanned the library, her eyes darting to the few students nearby. "Let's talk in a hub."

I nodded. "Lead the way."

We navigated through the maze of shelves to a study room tucked in the back corner. It provided enough privacy with itsthick glass walls and a door that muted outside noise. As soon as she closed us in, her energy shifted. She turned to me, her face crumpling. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold them back.

"Lay, what's happening? Take a seat." I offered her a chair, and she sat down.

Her hands shook as she wiped her cheeks, her mouth opening and closing as though she couldn't find the words. “It’s bad, Sanj,” she whispered, voice cracking. “So damn bad.”

I took the chair next to hers. "Just tell me. Whatever it is, we'll handle it."

She took a deep breath, let it out, and then repeated as if preparing for a blow. "I think I'm pregnant."

Oh, fuck.

A million thoughts zipped through my head. Outwardly, I didn’t so much as blink too hard. “Is it…?”

“I haven’t slept with anyone else,” she rasped.

Yeah, I figured as much. For her sake, I wished she had. I didn’t need her to give more details on that part. Not when I knew who the father was and how deep this situation ran. She was sitting in front of me, scared out of her mind. All that mattered was her knowing she wasn’t facing this by herself.

“You don’t have to deal with this alone; we’ll do it together.”

“He’ll hate me, Sanj,” she mumbled.

“Heis half the reason this happened, Lay. And he’s damn sure old enough to know better.”

That asshole had wormed his way into her heart, her trust, and twisted everything around until it felt like a choice. Layla had once insisted it was consensual, and in her mind, it was, but from what she’d told me, this started years ago. She truly believed what they had was real love. I had tried to help her see it was nothing more than manipulation and sweet words by a man old enough to be her father. He literally had half the damn title.

Her mom was no better.

That waste of air was a vicious drunk who once accused her daughter of exactly what was happening, as if she somehow manifested it herself. Sober, the woman played the part of a saint, churchgoing, and wearing pearls. Intoxicated, she was a nightmare. She used to be a therapist before going into a different medical field. I was still trying to figure out how she managed that when her whole household was in deep need of therapy.

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