“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re perfect. When I found out you were having a girl, I told Eam…”
I suck in a sharp breath that feels like swallowing glass.
“Do you want to talk about it, Norie?” Layla asks tentatively.
No. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to relive the moment hebroke my heart, the moment he told me he didn’t want me anymore. But that’s why they’re all here. I move to the couch and snuggle in next to Amelia, who drapes an arm around my shoulders.
“Might as well get this over with,” I mutter “The sooner I get it all out, the sooner I can move forward, right?”
Charlie and Layla exchange a doubtful look with each other. I start to question it when Amelia says, “Norah, there’s no rush. No timeline. You can take as much time as you need. This was a blow you didn’t see coming. Hell, none of us did.”
Nodding, I say, “I know. I just don’t want to stay stuck here for too long. I went through all of the stages of grief after my Mom died. I know this isn’t a death, but I can already feel myself becoming that shell of a person. I’m not going to waste my life pining for someone who doesn’t want me around.”
So I tell them the entire story, from the moment we got the call from Eamon’s Mom to the moment my flight landed and Charlie and Layla met me at the airport. I told them, without going into too much detail, about making love in the shower and how intimate it was. How we’d professed our love for each other and I just knew that he was my future.
“What the hell is he thinking?” Myra demands once I’ve finished the recounting, outrage etched all over her face.
“It sounds like he’s got a lot of guilt about leaving his Mom,” Layla offers, causing everyone to stare at her like she’s just committed treason.
“Lay, you’re not supposed to be defending him,” Amelia scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m not! He’s absolutely in the wrong here, but I can kind of understandwhyhe felt like he needed to stay,” she defends.
“You’re not wrong,” I admit. “I completely understand why he wants to stay, but what I don’t understand is why he doesn’t want me with him. Why does he feel like he needs to make that decision for me?”
“Exactly what I’m trying to say,” Layla clarifies. “He shouldn’t be making that decision, but it also sounds like he’s trying to put your needs first, knowing everything you’d be leaving if you stayed there with him. Hedoesn’t want you to give up anything for him.”
“Again,” Charlie interjects, holding up a finger, “Not his call to make.”
“I didn’t even say goodbye to his Mom,” I groan. “She must think I’m so self-centered.”
“Have you called her or messaged her?” Layla questions.
“No,” I say, hanging my head. “But I probably should. As painful as it is, I adore Rosie.”
“Maybe she can talk some sense into him,” Amelia suggests with a one-shouldered shrug. “Make him realize his mistake.”
“Even if she did, Norie isn’t going to take him back. He had his chance,” Myra scoffs. “Right, Nor?”
All eyes turn to me and I hesitate. “Honestly? I don’t know. I still love him and want to be with him, but even if he wanted me back, I’m not sure how we’d make a relationship work on two separate continents.” Blowing out a frustrated breath, I rub my forehead with my fingertips. “This is all hypothetical anyway.”
We spend the next few hours talking about everything but Eamon. Most of the conversation revolves around Myra and the baby. We talk about names, baby shower planning, and Mac’s sweet reaction to finding out he was going to have a daughter. I don’t miss how distracted Layla has been. Her eyes and fingers racing across the screen of her phone. Is she texting Teagan? Surely he’s talked to Eamon by now. I’m desperate to ask, but can’t seem to muster up the courage to do so. I’m too scared of the answer.
Later, after everyone but Layla leaves, I’m exhausted. The mental and emotional unloading was overwhelming and I just want to crawl back into the oblivion of sleep.
“Are you staying tonight, Lay?” I ask while pouring the last dregs of wine from a bottle down the drain.
“I had planned on it,” she hedges. “Unless you want me to give you some space. It won’t hurt my feelings either way.”
“You can stay. I may head to bed soon, though. I want to get up early tomorrow and start designs for the spring production,” I tell her with a shrug.
“Okay,” she says, the corner of her mouth tipping up in a sympathetic smile.
We sit at the island in companionable silence for a few minutes before I just can’t take it anymore.
“How are things with Teagan?” I ask suddenly.
Layla’s eyes shoot to mine in alarm. “What?”
