Page 53 of Forgotten Desires

Crew is sitting at the table with us, going over emails on his phone that were the result of our entire day being taken up by our engagement.

It was one phone call after another. He had business associates, friends, family he hasn’t spoken to, his lawyer assuring us that Layla would absolutely be ready when it was time for us to get her, and people I don’t think any of us knew.

I was so not prepared for my newfound fame, either. All these years I’ve never heard Crew’s name or seen photos. Not that I really cared about gossip, since I grew up around Jacob Arrowood, the famous actor who was a heartthrob—well, still is. Everyone in our town knew we couldn’t believe anything we saw on television or online about him and I never cared enough to look.

“Daddy, can you color too?” Layla extends a crayon to him.

“I would, but I might ruin your pretty picture.”

She smiles. “You won’t.”

“Okay, then.” He puts his phone in his pocket and starts to color.

The three of us work on the book, Layla instructing the two of us where to color and which color she prefers. I catch Crew glancing at me with a smile several times, which I ignore because it fills my stomach with butterflies each time.

“Can Brynn”—which is more like Rin—“play with me in my room?” she asks, as she’s clearly done with coloring now.

He glances at his watch and sighs. “It’s almost time for you to go back home, Ladybug.”

I grin at his nickname for her. Apparently, he has a thing for bugs. I’m his honeybee and she’s his ladybug. It’s kinda cute.

We spent the last few hours coloring, playing dolls, eating dinner, and then Layla painted my nails and Crew’s. She’s so damn adorable and easy to love. The fact that anyone could hurt her is unimaginable to me.

Although, the idea of anyone hurting any child feels the same.

Whenever I’ve come in contact with a child who has been abused, it’s different for me. The feelings, emotions, and trauma that I experienced are triggered. I remember it all—the fear, the pain, the wondering what was wrong with me and why Howie didn’t love me. I remember questioning what I did wrong, and how I could never make it make sense.

Because it doesn’t.

There’s an unspoken understanding, I believe, between victims. A silent language, a sign, a look that tells the other it’s okay and that this person understands as well.

I feel as though we had that moment.

Layla crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to.”

“I know, but I’ll see you very soon. Just a few sleeps,” Crew reassures her.

I smile and Layla turns to me. “I see you too?”

My eyes find Crew’s and I wait for him to say something and tell her we’re getting married. He reaches out, pulling Layla onto his lap. She nestles into him, and he hugs her tight. “You’re going to see Brynn a lot more.”

Her eyes brighten and she looks to me. I nod.

“I like her.”

“Me too,” Crew agrees.

“Rin is pretty.”

“I think you’re pretty,” I tell her.

She ducks her chin.

“Layla, you’ll see Brynn at my house when you come. She’s going to be here all the time.”

“Yay!” She claps and giggles.

I can see him struggling with this, to tell her the whole of it. She may like the idea of me being here sometimes, but who knows if she really understands what that means. He clears his throat. “Do you know why she’ll be here?” he asks.

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