Chapter Seventeen

Close to two weeks passed, and she'd gotten the staples out of her head, hardly had a headache anymore, and her scrapes and bruises were gone.

Laila sat in the back garden listening to the birds. It was a cheerful sound, and she hoped it would make her feel better. She was almost positive her husband was telling the truth. Then why hesitate in telling him that? Most of her thoughts and disappointments were about her and how she almost killed their child. The shame seemed to get deeper as the days passed.

"I've been looking for you," Roland said, gaining her attention.

"Hi."

"Hi, yourself." He held out a hand. "Come with me."

She stood and took his hand, and let him lead her into his office.

"Sit on the sofa."

She sat on the edge, curious as to what he wanted to do.

He took the remote off his desk and turned on the big TV he had on the wall.

She didn't understand what she was watching at first.

"That's me coming out of the room we had the meeting in," he told her. "Do you see the other men walking out after me?"

She nodded and watched as he stood in the hallway talking to the men before another walked up to him.

"That's my father's friend. He's the one I told you asked me to stay for a drink."

Another camera picked him up as he walked into the room where the benefit was. He sat and smiled at the people and thanked the man who handed him a glass. She could tell he and the woman were teasing each other, but she didn't get the impression they were a couple. The big man sitting close to her with his arm over the back of her chair was involved with the woman, and he just grinned when Roland was pulled out onto the dance floor.

She lost sight of him a few times, but when she saw them, she saw that they looked like they were bickering. Laila almost smiled at their animated expressions.

The song ended, and they walked back to the table. That's when one of the guys pointed her out, and she ran.

Roland was looking intently at her expression, sighed, and turned off the TV.

"This is all I've got, Love. I don't know what else to tell you."

She shook her head and wiped her tears. "I'm…" She couldn't get the picture of her baby dead because of her.

He waited for her to say something and then wiped his hand down his face. "So be it. I can't fight you anymore."

She tried to get her crying under control to stop him because she knew he was thinking she still doubted him. What did he mean, "so be it?"

It took several minutes to gain control of her emotions enough to find him. Her heart sank when she walked into their bedroom and saw him stacking her clothing on the bed.

"Wait. What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you the space you've been asking for. I'm not going to push you into anything," he said.

"But wait, you don't understand," she cried and tried to reach out for him only to have her hand swatted aside.

"I understand perfectly." He grabbed an armful of her clothing and walked across the hallway into the bedroom she had before.

"Can you stop? Please." She was trying to hold onto some of her strength, but the baby took a lot out of her, and she still had headaches during the day if she was stressed. The doctor told her that was normal and to take it easy for a few weeks.

"Please listen," she begged.

"Like you listened to me?" he said sarcastically.

Her stomach started to cramp, and bile was climbing up her throat. She had very little time before she was going to vomit, and she didn't want him to see that. She rushed past him, shut the bathroom door, and raced to the toilet. She grabbed and held most of her hair out of the way as what little she had for lunch came up. She tried hard to be as quiet as she could, so he didn't hear.

Laila was lying on the cool tile floor next to the toilet. She was afraid she was going to vomit again, and she had no more strength left. Her body jerked when he knocked at the door.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She swallowed it a few times. "Yes. I just need to be alone."

She heard him curse softly. "Well, now you can have all the time you want. I'll stay out of your way."

Bile was rushing up her throat again, so she only lifted herself off the floor and bent over the toilet again. Tears ran down her face when she heard his footsteps walk away, and then the door to the bedroom closed sharply.

It took another few minutes for her to stop vomiting, and now it was just dry heaves that were hurting her stomach.

"God, can this hurt the baby?"

She'd already made a bad choice and just about killed it. She needed to make better choices now.

Laila flushed the toilet and pulled herself up in front of the sink. She rinsed her mouth out and then looked at herself. Her face was pale, and her eyes looked bruised. Her hair was tangled around her shoulders, and specks of vomit were in it.

She undressed and walked into the shower. She washed as quickly as she could and then dried off. Another towel was used to try to dry her hair, but she started feeling dizzy. She walked into the bedroom and shut off the light before moving to the bed. She dropped the towel and climbed in.

Sleep was the only thing she needed now. There was no way she could function or do anything else. She knew the pillow would be wet from her hair, but she didn't care. It would be wet from her tears anyway.

Laila just needed some time to forget and rest. There would be time later to deal with everything else.