Chapter 12
Cristian kept his face neutral as his thoughts raced. Natalie and Jessica. Sisters...Twins. It didn't look good. It didn't look good at all. Had he made it a habit? No, no he hadn't. Had he? In a matter of seconds, he gave himself two options: he could tell Mrs. Williamson he had, in fact, loved two sisters on two separate occasions before, or he could not shoot himself in the foot before he even had a chance and, thus, decline to tell her something that had no bearing on how he felt about Layla. He wanted full disclosure with Mrs. Williamson but his relationships with Jessica and Natalie--and Evangeline for that matter--were no longer relevant to him, so he chose the latter.
And it wasn't a habit. It was a coincidence. One of those really fucked up coincidences.
Looking into her eyes, he answered. "No, ma'am, I don't."
Lisa studied him carefully. She knew her hardened stare was known to intimidate and scare people off on occasion and she used it to her advantage when she needed to. When Cristian didn't flinch, didn't look away, didn't even appear to be fazed, she softened her gaze and uncrossed her arms, leaning further back into her chair, analyzing the situation. Well, he wasn't a weak man. He seemed very serious about his business, very engaged. Determined. And she had to give him some credit: some men, especially ones that looked like him, wouldn't have bothered coming to meet her just because they got her daughter pregnant. They'd probably be running around saying the baby wasn't theirs. But that didn't mean this man wouldn't drop Layla the minute the baby was born because he suddenly got "scared" or the baby didn't look like it was his or some other crap like that.
Relaxed into her chair while Cristian continued to focus his attention on her, she went on. "Look, Cristian, I'm not trying to be a witch here but I'm sure you can imagine what this looks like to me. You were involved with Evangeline one minute, then she gets hurt and...falls into a coma... and the next thing I know, Layla's telling me she's pregnant with your child."
Cristian nodded in understanding and replied, "I understand, Mrs. Williamson." He did. The situation was pretty fucked up. Coincidences and all.
She waited for him to say something else. To defend himself and say it wasn't his fault things ended with her eldest to make himself look better. She knew the gist of what had happened. She and Layla spoke on the phone at least once every couple of weeks and during one of those calls--while she was expressing her apprehension about her younger daughter's relationship with Cristian and sudden love for him--Layla had finally told her what happened. Or at least as much as she was willing to tell since it didn't reflect well on her sister whom she loved and missed terribly. Lisa's daughters rarely kept her in the loop but they had always had each other so she tried not to worry too much. It had been like pulling teeth trying to get Layla to help her understand exactly what caused Evangeline's split with this Cristian, and why she had gotten herself in the position to get pregnant by him.
But, he didn't. So she decided to hit him from a different angle. She wasn't about to have her daughter in love with some fool who was all about playing games with her emotions until he was ready for his next conquest. "Do you love her?" She observed him carefully, looking for any kind of hesitation or telltale signs of straight lying. This was her child. And she wasn't going to play any games. Any more games.
"Yes, ma'am. Very much." After showing her the sincerity that was in his heart through his eyes, Cristian took them away and looked down at his hands, slightly shaking his head as he spoke. "Mrs. Williamson, I wasn't looking for this." He brought his eyes back to her face. "And I know you have no reason to believe me but I wasn't trying to hurt Evangeline. And I'm not using Layla to get over her. Layla and I--we'd always been friends..." He chuckled softly as his mind went on a tangent. "She's friends with everybody. I can't keep track of all the people she knows. She's so outgoing, everybody just flocks to her." Lisa watched as his eyes took on a far away look as he spoke. "But, anyway," he shook his head and dropped his eyes to his hands again, realizing he was getting off topic. "One day...a while after Evangeline and I didn't make it, something changed. I didn't think of her as just my friend anymore." Once again, he made eye contact with Lisa. "I fell in love with her."
Lisa absorbed his words, squinting her eyes as she scrutinized him. "Cristian, I know things didn't exactly end well with you and my daughter--my other daughter." She sighed. Like a damn soap opera... "I don't doubt what you're saying, but Layla--she's always been the one who worried me. Not because I don't think she can handle herself; it just seems like she doesn't think things through. Ever since she was a child. She always did things without thinking first. Just flew by the seat of her pants. Didn't care about planning--just went with the wind wherever it blew. After she graduated from college, she worked for a little bit at a great company and then quit and decided to go to Hollywood and become a big star. Didn't know a soul out there but she had a dream and she was young and determined to do it." She shook her head and sighed again. Then she caught herself. Who was she fooling? Layla was just like her. She had made a rash decision once upon a time, too.
Cristian smiled softly. Lisa noticed his eyes taking on that far away look again.
That was one of the things he loved most about her. Her fire. Her spontaneity. "She loves life. She knows how to live it to the fullest. Without hopes and dreams, what's left?" He sat back and relaxed for the first time since they'd began their conversation. "I always hope that, when I go, I don't have any regrets. That I at least tried to do everything I ever wanted to do."
Lisa thought about that for a few moments, the pang in her stomach distracting her. Regrets. Things she didn't want to regret never doing--or saying--before she passed. Forcing a small smile to her face, she responded, "Well, there's that." She sighed yet again, returning to her original focus. "This all happened pretty fast, Cristian, and I know she's already in love with you. Layla loves hard. And there's a baby involved who isn't going to just go away when the honeymoon period is over. I just don't want her to get hurt." Anymore than she will be.
Nodding, Cristian sat forward again. "I know, Mrs. Williamson." A smile spread across his lips. "Layla thinks the baby's going to be a girl." He shook his head as his thoughts wandered. "I just can't imagine what I'm going to do when she turns sixteen and starts dating. Or how I'm going to let go when she gets married...All I can do is show her how she should be treated and what kind of respect she deserves by how I treat her mother. Kids learn by what you show them. I want her to know she's precious and deserves the best of everything, just like her mother."
It was Lisa's turn to nod. Then she studied him again. She still wasn't completely convinced, but he hadn't once lied or spouted a lot of bullshit or tried to diminish her concerns by just telling her to trust him. And he was going to prove himself. If not for her, for his daughter. Although it was extremely disconcerting that he'd been involved with Evangeline for several months, if she discounted that--as hard as that was--she did feel more comfortable knowing Layla had him to count on. She saw the strength in his character. It surprised her. Like he'd lived many lives during his short years but, as that song went, didn't have the scars to show it. She knew her daughter would take the news hard and would probably push her away. And since she didn't even have her sister to turn to anymore, Lisa would have to trust that this young man meant what he said and what he did. Layla would need that.
Layla stood at the bathroom mirror, wrapping her hair for the night. Cristian had gotten through it. It felt like he and her mother had been outside talking forever and she couldn't help but wander over to the window several times to peek out while they were talking, just to make sure her mother hadn't murdered him or anything. Layla had been a bit of a wild child when she was little but one look from her mother would straighten her out in no time and she was sure Cristian was getting a taste of that same Lisa Williamson treatment.
When her mother and Cristian had walked back into the house, she had scrutinized his face and was surprised to see him look as though he'd just been out for a walk in the park. Straight cool as hell. He had walked over to her sitting on the couch and asked her if she was okay. And for the rest of the day, after company had arrived, she didn't even notice any tension between Cris and her mother. And she was looking damn hard. Whatever had happened, it couldn't have been bad. Her mother wasn't rolling out the welcoming mat for him complete with balloons and confetti but she was being nice. More nice than Layla would have ever imagined considering the circumstances. She didn't make any snide remarks and was even eagerly giving Cristian little parenting tips like they were old friends or something. Almost like she wouldn't be there to give them some advice later herself. No, that's not it. Layla didn't understand it but she wasn't about to rock the boat and ask her mother what was wrong. She would just harass Cristian about what happened later. Shaking her head and sighing, Layla flipped the light switch off in the bathroom and headed to her old bedroom to get ready for bed. Alone.
Despite the fact that Lisa had offered Cristian the use of one of the guest rooms, he had declined, citing his already booked hotel room. Layla had told him it would be okay to stay, that if her mother even offered, he must have made somewhat of a decent impression on her, but he didn't want to appear too forward and asked Layla to drop him off at the hotel. She had wanted to stay with him so badly--it was Christmas Eve--but she didn't want her mother to think she didn't want to stay at the house with her and consequently fuck up Lisa's good mood. So, she had spent about an hour with him in his room trying to get some answers about what had happened on the porch--he wasn't very forthcoming--kissed him goodnight and drove back home.
Crawling into bed, she heard her cell phone ring and reached over to the nightstand to see who it was. A smile immediately spread across her face. "Hey."
"Hey, Beautiful."
"You aren't asleep yet? Too bad you're way over there tonight; you can't sneak and unwrap the present I got you."
"I know...If I were I'd unwrap it very slowly and carefully and tell our baby girl not to mind Daddy and go back to sleep."
She wrinkled up her nose. "You are so nasty." She laughed as quietly as she could. "I didn't know you wanted me to be your present. I could've saved a lot of money!"
"You're all I need, Layla. All I want."
"Stop it, Cristian." She felt tears welling up. Already. He always did that to her. And she always blamed her hormones when she knew damn well if she wasn't pregnant she'd have still reacted the same way.
"Stop what?"
"You know what."
"If you want me to stop telling you how I feel about you, I'm really going to be pissing you off for the rest of my natural life, Layla," he answered matter-of-factly.
She sniffed, getting her hyperactive tear ducts under control. "Cris, I really hate you. You know that right? Just in case I haven't been clear before."
"Yes," he answered simply.
She laughed. She loved him so much. "Keep playing, Cristian. You're going to mess around and I'm not going to come pick you up tomorrow."
She heard him laugh. "Okay. I'm finished. I promise."
"I'll probably be over there by 7. We can go visit Vange and then some of my other relatives."
"Okay. Sounds good."
"Okay. I love you...Sleep tight." She added the latter thinking about the past Saturday night when he'd had that nightmare. He went on to act as though nothing had happened the next day, and she didn't want to ask him about it. Maybe it really had been nothing. Just an isolated incident. And they had spent the next day continuing to get her place in order and getting ready for their Christmas Eve trip Monday, too busy for any deep conversation. She did notice, however, that he had stayed Sunday night at his own place. She could be making a big deal out of nothing, though. He had spent the day with her and needed to go home and pack that evening so it made sense that he would sleep in his own bed.
"I love you, too. Sweet dreams."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight. Tell the baby I said goodnight, too."
"I will. See you tomorrow."
"Okay." He hung up and sighed. He hoped he could get some sleep tonight. He needed it. He was beginning to dread when nightfall came because he couldn't handle them. The dreams. The fucking dreams. They took him back to the ship. To every horrific thing he never wanted to remember.
Five minutes after hanging up with Cristian and giving their baby his message, Layla heard a knock on her door.
"Layla, it's me."
"Come in." She watched as her mother entered her room, in her robe, and stood just inside the entrance.
"Everything okay? Do you need another blanket?"
"No, I'm good." She frowned suspiciously. Why is she standing over there like she has something she doesn't want to say?
"Need a drink of water or anything?"
"No, I have some right here." She pointed to the cup on her nightstand. What is her problem? She watched as her mother slowly walked over to her bed and sat down.
"Is everything still going okay? With the baby?"
In response, Layla glanced down at her belly and placed both hands over it. She was sixteen weeks along and still small enough that she hadn't began wearing maternity clothes yet. Keeping her hands on her belly, she looked up at her mother. "Doctor says everything's fine. I haven't felt her move yet, though. I know I'm crazy for wanting to feel it now when it's probably going to keep me awake at night once it starts."
Lisa smiled. "Mmm-hmm, sweetheart, it probably will. Your sister was a nightmare." She and Layla both laughed.
"Really?"
"Child, she kept me up constantly. And she was overdue."
"I didn't know that."
Lisa nodded and rubbed her daughter's leg. "Yep...Maybe I thought it was the worst because she was my first but that whole pregnancy just was not easy." She smiled again at the memory. "At the end you won't be able to wait until it's time to go into labor. Baby will be pressing on your bladder, making your back hurt, and moving around like crazy. You'll probably be a little scared when the time comes--I know I was terrified--but it'll be okay. You'll get through it. And once it's all over, you'll have the most precious gift. And you'll look back and know it was all worth it." Lisa continued to smile at the memories. "You, though, you didn't give me much trouble at all." Lisa's pregnancy with Layla had been physically easy, but she had been an emotional wreck before she had told her husband. Told him what she had done.
"What about Daddy? Did he make sure you didn't lift a finger and bring you breakfast in bed and all that?"
That pang hit her stomach again. He was Layla's daddy. He was. She nodded. "Mmm-hmm. He did. At least at the beginning. And then at the end when I didn't want to move."
"Cristian's like that. He's so excited." She looked her mother in the eyes to see her reaction to Cristian's name. She really wanted to know what had happened on the porch even though she knew curiosity killed the cat.
Looking back into her daughter's eyes, Lisa asked, "Are you really happy, Layla? Do you trust him? With everything that's in you? When I send you and my grandbaby back home with him, I want to be sure you're doing the right thing. And you're happy. And he'll be there for you no matter what happens." Then, she added quickly. "With the baby."
"Mom, I'm almost thirty. I'm not eighteen anymore. You always treat me like I don't know what I'm doing. Everybody has to make mistakes sometime. And everybody does." She sighed heavily as she realized she was just getting warmed up. She still didn't understand why her mother was so much harder on her than on her sister. "I know I didn't plan on getting pregnant, but this wasn't a mistake. I know it's weird with Vange and everything and it's still weird to me sometimes, but...he's a really good man. You always told us to look at how a guy treats his mother, right? Cris adores his mother. He opens car doors...He actually listens. And he prays. And after everything he's been through in his life, he can still wake up in the morning and see so much good in the world around him. Just by looking at him and everything he's lived through, he just makes you believe that no matter what, there's too much joy out there to stop living. I love that about him." She sighed. "I can handle this, Mom. I've always handled everything that's ever come my way." She felt tears nearing the surface. "Even losing my father and my sister."
Lisa leaned forward and stroked her daughter's cheek. "Layla, baby, I know you can. I believe you." Both of her girls were strong. It was why Evangeline was still hanging on and was going to come back to them. But her nerve was failing her. And it was Christmas. She couldn't lay this on Layla. Not now. She just couldn't. After all of these years, she still hadn't found and kept the nerve. How could you tell your daughter that the man she knew as her father--her blood--was, in fact, not. How? After all these years? Rising off the bed, Lisa leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "I love you. You'll always be my baby girl, you hear me? I'll always worry about you. You'll understand soon."
"I love you, too." Layla wondered if she had gotten anywhere with her mother just now.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Lisa closed the door to Layla's room. Then she went into her bedroom, crawled underneath the covers, and cried.
Layla stood outside of Cristian's hotel room early Christmas morning and knocked softly. It didn't take him long to answer. Wearing a crisp cream button down long-sleeved shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes, he opened the door and smiled. "Hey." Taking her by the hand, he led her into his room and into his arms, the door closing on its own behind them.
"Hey. Merry Christmas." Layla rubbed his back within his embrace.
"Merry Christmas."
Pulling back slightly so she could look into his eyes, Layla watched for any signs that he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. He looked okay. But he had just gotten out of bed and probably hadn't had any coffee yet so she wasn't entirely sure. Whatever. I'll just ask him. "Did you sleep okay last night?" She decided to add a caveat. "Hotel beds can be hell to sleep on, especially the pillows." There. She made it sound like it was just a casual question.
"Yeah. I did. I missed you, though." He knew why she'd asked. He was still mad at himself for worrying her that night. He had done a horrible job of trying to convince her he was okay. That dream had just been...too much. But she had been there. She settled his spirit and calmed his soul and he had needed that that night. He had needed her terribly. And she had saved him. After their lovemaking, he had fallen asleep peacefully in her arms and didn't dream at all for the rest of the night. Last night he had slept well, too. But he figured it just wasn't a night for them to come to him.
Layla relaxed. She believed him. Whenever he wasn't being entirely truthful, he could never look her in the eye. He would look away and try to be casual about it but she always knew. The man was a terrible liar. "I really love your meatloaf, Layla." Looks at ceiling, window, floor, cupboards...
"I missed you, too."
"How about you? You two sleep well?"
Glancing down at her belly, Layla replied, "Yeah. We did okay."
"Good. I'm glad."
Reaching into her coat pocket, Layla pulled out what she'd grabbed on her way out the door this morning, standing on the tips of her toes to hang it above Cristian's head. He glanced up to see what it was and smiled as Layla spoke. "Oh. Would you look at that? Where'd that mistletoe come from?"
"I have no idea. What is it for? I-I don't have a clue." He stepped closer to her, eyes dancing.
"I think--now I'm not really sure--but I think it's for this." She kissed him quickly once, getting off her tip toes and lowering her arm with the mistletoe, looking him in the eye mischievously.
Pointing at it and frowning, Cristian continued. "Is that all that thing can do?"
"Mmm-hmm. But I can do better." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she took his lips again and gave him a real Christmas kiss this time, the mistletoe falling from her hand as she ran her fingers through his lengthening hair, soft moans escaping her lips. Damn, if she didn't need oxygen she could have stayed like that all day. Tearing her mouth away from his, she breathed deeply and looked into his eyes, reveling in the desire and love she saw. She thought about feeling his hard, naked body against hers but they really had a lot to get done that day before they went home the day after. Knowing he was thinking the same thing, she decided to put the fire out. Giving him one last quick kiss, she stepped out of his arms and set her purse down on the bed, searching through its contents. "I have your present." Taking a red envelope, complete with red bow, out of her purse, she turned and handed it to him, a huge grin on her face. "I hope you like it."
Cristian smiled, turned, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Thank you." As he opened the envelope and took out the contents, Layla stood in front of him, nervously watching his face while he read what he held.
"Noooo...Layla..."
Her grin widened. "Yep."
"Noooooooooo..."
"Yes!"
"How? How did you get these? They're impossible to get!" Cristian shook his head as he saw he held two tickets to the most exclusive art show in Europe. Nobody got tickets to it. Nobody. It was by invitation only. And then invitation of an invitation. You had to know people who knew people who knew more people who went to school with yet more people. Even though it was super exclusive, it was always held to raise large amounts of money for charities worldwide. Cristian had always wanted to go the show so exclusive it was only held once every five years and, thus, held voluminous collections by the world's greatest artists. And next year was the lucky year.
"I heard. A friend of mine in L.A. knows some people and he managed to score a couple tickets for me. He'd heard of your work--he loves art, too--and was able to get some for me."
"Layla, this is..." He continued to shake his head from side-to-side. "I can't believe this." Dropping the tickets to his side, he rose from the bed, immediately taking her into his arms. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome."
He squeezed her even tighter before letting her go and looking into her eyes. "Thank you." Placing his large hands on her stomach, he continued. "And thank you for this. For our baby. I don't think I've ever had a better Christmas."
Oh, to hell with it. Layla's eyes welled up and she kissed him again, pushing him backwards onto the bed. She didn't care anymore. They would just have to be late.
Trying to speak between her kisses, Cristian asked, "Layla...What...What about your present?"
Sitting up, she released his mouth and straddled him while unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm opening it."
Cristian didn't have a chance to reply as she feasted on his lips and sucked on his tongue while running her soft hands down his torso. He would just have to give her the purple and green seat cushion later. The seat cushion he'd brought along that represented the wooden rocking chair he'd built for her that was too big to bring to Atlanta to give her. He had had every intention of driving her crazy by giving her the cushion as a present and making her think that was all he'd gotten. "You got me an ass cushion???" with what the fuck expression on face. Now that he was pulling in six figures, he'd only wanted to give her something from his heart. A physical foundation where she and their baby could spend time strengthening their bond. Where he could watch them and know there would be no greater joy in his life but that. That moment.
"Hey, Bro."
"Hey. What's up?" Cristian held his studio door open, letting his brother in.
"Just wanted to stop by before you left. You two packed and ready to go?"
Cristian walked over to one of the yellow chairs in his studio and got it out of the corner for his brother to sit in. "Yeah. Layla's beenready to go." He chuckled. "She still can't believe she's going to get the chance to use some of her French finally."
Antonio smiled. "Hey it'll come in handy while you're over there."
"True. I certainly can't speak it." It was the third week in January and Cristian was scheduled to go to Paris on business regarding a commission for a couple of days. Knowing Layla had always wanted to go there, he'd bought her a ticket and told her he wasn't going without her.
Everything was getting back to order since they'd returned from Atlanta. Layla's condo move was finished and Cristian had come to somewhat of an understanding with her mother, even talking to her on the phone the other day when she'd called and Layla wasn't home. And, most importantly, his nightmares had stopped just as quickly as they'd started. He had slept peacefully every night since the night of Layla's move. He didn't understand it--why they'd even started at all--but he prayed they were indefinitely over and his fears would remain unrealized.
"So, you're going to do it?"
Cristian nodded and looked at his brother, a huge grin playing across his lips. "I'm going to do it."
"Mmmm..." Layla made one of those I am in heaven moans as she stood in Cristian's arms taking in the view afforded by being on the third platform of the Eiffel Tower, one hour before the attraction's closing time. It was positively breathtaking in spite of the forty degree weather. They had visited everything so far that week: the Champs Elysees, the Tuileries, Place de la Concorde, and the Louvre and Picasso museums. She rested her hands on top of his that were settled comfortably across her belly, her back against his chest. She was in heaven. People weren't lying when they said this was one of the most romantic places in the world. "This is so beautiful. It's perfect."
"Just about. I think it's missing something, though."
She turned her head briefly and tried to look into his eyes from her position within his arms. "Oh, wait, I know. You wish you had your paintbrushes with you, right?" She chuckled. "Baby, you want to paint everything don't you? Or sketch it or photograph it..." She gave one last chuckle when she felt his arms disengage from her waist. What, is he getting sensitive all of a sudden? She turned around to make sure he knew she was teasing and saw him on the platform in front of her. On bended knee. A small, velvet box in his gloved hand. Her heart stopped and her breath caught in her throat. Oh. My. Gosh...Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh!
Cristian opened the ring box and held it in his left hand, his right grabbing hold of her left, eyes boring into hers as he looked up from his position. "Layla...There really aren't enough words for me to tell you how much I love you...How much I need you." God, he needed her. But...I would like to try. For the rest of my life."
Her tears steadily fell. Again. But this time she was beginning to hyperventilate. Breathe, Layla, breathe!
She tried to listen as Cristian continued. "I promise to love you and cherish you and honor you until I take my last breath." He took a deep breath as concern began to creep into his features, finding himself suddenly hoping he wouldn't have to perform CPR or something on her. She was starting to scare him she was hyperventilating so bad. He almost hesitated to finally ask her. Almost. "Layla...Will you marry me?"
Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh Ohmigosh! I will! Yes! Yes! Oh my gosh! Layla immediately dropped down to her knees in front of him and grabbed his face, peppering it with kisses. Then she wrapped her arms around him, still trying to catch her breath.
Cristian couldn't help but laugh as she squeezed his neck, apparently trying to make him take his last breath a little earlier than expected as she was cutting off his oxygen supply. "Layla, baby, breathe."
"I can't! Cristian! Oh my gosh..." She took several more shallow breaths. "Oh my gosh..."
Cristian continued to hold her, the ring still in his left hand, smiling as he rubbed her back, trying to help her calm down. And wondering if she was going to give him a definite answer. He was pretty sure of what it was but this was one of those questions asked where one didn't want to jump the gun and assume.
After a couple of minutes, still completely oblivious to anyone around them although on this chilly night there were very few stragglers, he felt her breathing finally even out. "Layla? Are you okay?" He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Have you finished thinking about it yet?"
She immediately lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his face, a confused expression on her face. "Thinking about what?"
Now it was Cristian's turn to rock the perplexed look. He was beginning to wonder if she'd even heard him ask.
Then she heard a calm, sane voice in her head. Layla, girl, tell that sexy as hell man you're going to marry him. And not in your head this time. "Oh! Yes! I'm sorry...Yes." She kissed him and repeated her answer in between kisses. "Yes...Yes...Yes."
When he was finally able to steal his lips away from hers, he took the opportunity to set the ring box down and grab her left hand again to remove her glove. Then he took off his gloves, removed the ring from the box, and slipped it onto her trembling ring finger. Then he smiled into her tear-streaked face and kissed her again with all the promise that was held in that ring.
Lying naked under the covers, Cristian and Layla both struggled to catch their breaths. After they had gotten off of their knees on the Eiffel Tower, they'd immediately gone back to their hotel suite and celebrated the moments of their lives. After several seconds, Cristian rolled off of her, not wanting to crush his child, and continued breathing air into his lungs as he pulled Layla to his side.
Staring at her left hand while in the crook of his arm, Layla finally admired her ring. It had been too dark to really see it on the Tower and it was still too dark on the ride back to the hotel, and when they'd gotten back to their room, studying the ring took a back seat to other activities. It was gorgeous. Large but not gaudy. Layla did not do gaudy. It had to have cost him a pretty penny. A large square diamond flanked by smaller diamond side stones around the platinum band decorated her finger. It was absolutely perfect. Mesmerizing. And she was so glad she loved it because her fingers were swollen and the ring wasn't about to come back off.
"You sure you really like it? You're not just saying you do like you do when I show you some of my pieces?" Cristian smiled and stretched out his neck slightly to kiss her on the forehead.
"I love it." She twisted to look into his face. "And I never lie about your work."
"Right."
Layla laughed. "I don't!"
"Okay." Cristian rolled his eyes.
Layla returned her attention to the ring. "It's beautiful. It's perfect..." She stared at it some more in silence. "Did you pick this out by yourself?"
"I had a little help. Adriana shopped around with me."
Layla lifted her head and looked at him. "She knew? And she didn't tell me?! Oh we are going to box when I get home!"
Cristian smiled. "Hey, you did the same thing with Luis, didn't you?"
Oh yeah. I did. A my bad expression crossed her features and she settled back down against his side, index finger circling his right nipple. "So when are we going to do this?" She hoped his answer wouldn't be, "Oh, we can take our time, get everything right." But then she remembered he was just like her. All about living in the moment. Living life.
"I think I'm going to leave that up to you, mi corazon. If it were up to me, I'd marry you tomorrow."
Layla stopped her nipple circling and lifted her head, looking into his eyes. "Me too." Her expression was soft. "I can't wait to be your wife."
Cristian lifted his right hand and stroked her face, his voice deepening with emotion. "I can't wait to be your husband."
Layla continued to stare into his soft eyes. They looked hazel at this angle. Then her lips curled into a smile. "Let's do it, then."
"What? Get married tomorrow???"
"Yeah."
"Are you serious?"
"Weren't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I was, but...what about our family?"
"We can do another ceremony when we get home later. This will be just for us." Layla sucked in her bottom lip, gauging his reaction. This was the love of her life. The love of her life. And she couldn't wait to make it official. She didn't need all the fittings and the trimmings like she used to dream about. Or the flowing white gown and veil. Three hundred of their closest friends and family intruding on the moment they committed their spirits to one another's. All she needed was him. She had never believed in the whole soulmate spiel before. Thought it was a lot of bullshit perpetuated by romantic comedies and series finales of tv shows. But that was before she experienced the all-consuming, nearly paralyzing, completely soul-quavering love of Cristian Vega. Artist. Lover. Friend. Everything in Heather Headley's "He Is." ...Man. My soulmate. "What do you think?"
Cristian studied her for several moments. Layla...My wife. It sounded right. It felt right. It was right. And far from being too soon, it wasn't soon enough for him. This was the woman God sent to make a family with him. The woman who loved him unconditionally. The woman who said he was her life and proved it everyday with all of her actions. All of her words. The woman who promised she would never leave him. The one woman he knew he would not be able to get over. Not ever. No matter how hard he tried. He made a decision. "I think we're getting married tomorrow."
"Yeah?" She grinned like a Chesire cat.
"Yeah."
Layla giggled as he flipped her over and nuzzled her neck, reaching down to pull the covers back over their heads.
Cristian held his wife's hand as they got ready to land just outside of Llanview. They were both exhausted and beyond ready to settle down into their new life together after an extremely hectic week. Extremely hectic, considering they'd returned to Llanview by way of Puerto Rico. The residency requirements of French law--as they'd suspected much later that night after they'd worn each other out--had prevented them from marrying in Paris. Originally intending to stay the rest of the week in the city after Cristian's initial business was finished Tuesday of that week, they'd changed their plans and decided to tie the knot in Cristian's homeland, where they were married on a warm, secluded, white sandy beach at sunset by one of Cristian's bilingual friends, two of his cousins from his father's side serving as witnesses. It was truly more beautiful than Layla could have imagined, especially on such short notice. The scenery, the perfect weather, the privacy...the groom. Just like in one of those romantic comedies and series finales.
Although the language barrier pretty much put a muzzle on Layla's self-described motor mouth--it made her crazy not being able to speak for herself to make a (hopefully) good impression on his family--she managed to leave the island with her sanity intact, telling Cristian they would have to return for a longer stay later that year so his extended family could meet their newest member after it was born.
"They liked you. Said you were muy encantadora y bella.
"Cris, I've had more than enough with the Spanish for awhile so throw some English in my ear, okay? Por favor?"
He laughed out loud. "See? You're picking some up. You're going to be trilingual in no time, mi novia."
"Trilingual? I told you I only took it in high school and a couple years in college. And you're sitting there in Paris expecting me to do some French monologue or something!"
"Hey, I still think you did pretty good when we were lost that one time."
"Right...Look. Look at that!" She pointed to his eyes. "See? You can't even look me in the eye."
Cristian laughed again. She knew him so well. Trying to stifle his laughter, he stammered, "The way they were looking at you when you were trying to explain--"
She hit him in the bicep that was closest to her.
"Owww!" He continued trying to stifle his laugh.
"You better sleep with one eye open, buster."
Finally catching his breath after several moments, Cristian decided to change the subject. "Hey." He grabbed her hand. "You ready to lay the bomb on everybody?" He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it.
"Oh, you finished making fun of me now?"
He kissed her hand again. "I was just joking. I love everything that comes out of your mouth. French, too."
"Mmm-hmmm. Whatever." She sighed, trying to keep from smiling. "Anyway, I'm ready. Are you?"
"Ready to shout it from the rooftops." He turned to her and smiled.
Layla smiled back at her husband. Her sweet, fine as hell husband. Husband. Cristian is my husband. Life is such a trip sometimes. "Any regrets?"
Piercing her eyes with his gaze, he answered. "Never."