The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

Lila meandered around on her board for a while before returning to the beach to hang out with Anya and me under the blue sun umbrella. We played with the bucket of beach toys supplied by our overly generous friends.

“I love watching you and Graham with the kids.”

“Well…” she pulled a cloth out of her bag and wiped her sunglasses “…we love being with them.”

“Yet … you don’t have your own kids. I’m not trying to harp on you, but did you hear me mention you’ll be forty before long? I feel like if you don’t have children soon, you won’t have them at all. And I know you’ve always wanted to have children of your own.” I listened to the string of words tumbling from my lips, internally scolding myself for having that conversation with her when the talk I should have had with her involved my blessing for her to leave him.

Leave the politics.

Leave the spotlight.

Leave the man who said and did inappropriate things to her best friend.

I so badly wanted her to leave him, but on her own accord. My indebtedness to Graham left little room for me to be the instigator of their breakup. But if Lila decided to leave him without any interference or encouragement from me, then he couldn’t hold that against me and my family.

Instead of saying any of that to her, out of fear of how Graham would react, out of fear of how she would react (since she always defended him), I encouraged her to make herself even more connected to him. The insane part? I thought a child might bring them closer together. I thought it would bring happiness to Lila’s life and reset Graham’s priorities—maybe fix his moral compass. How was it possible to want them together and apart at the same time? I didn’t know. It had to be Lila. Her happiness meant as much as my own. I wanted to share mom stories. Pregnancy cravings. I wanted to see her dreams come to fruition like mine had.

“I’m sure we’ll have them sometime.” Fake smile.

I recognized it because I invented it.

Equal parts fright and elation filled my chest. That was a yes. Even fake answers held a spark of truth. What I saw inside earlier, the two of them interacting with Franz and Anya, was real. At least, it felt real. Lila would be a great mom, and Graham would pull his head out of his ass and be a great dad. The thing with Graham was his competitive spirit wouldn’t allow for anything less than greatness. I knew he’d feel the need to be as great of a dad as Ronin and far superior to his own father.

My nose wrinkled. “I know this sounds terrible, but I needed to hear you say that. I needed to know things would be okay between you and Graham. It’s your life, but I’ve never been able to fully separate your lives from mine, and when you’re not doing well, I’m not doing well. Not in the sense of Ronin feeling you, but just because I still feel responsible for the success or failure of your relationship.”

“I’m glad.” Lila tipped her head back in the beach chair. “I feel responsible for your happiness too.”

Ouch …

That felt wrong. A gut punch of reality. Was that how it sounded when I said it to her?

“Wow …” I exhaled a breath of reality. “That’s not good. How did I not see it until you said it back to me? Being responsible for someone else’s happiness is a lot of pressure.”

Lila rolled her head to the side. I couldn’t see her eyes behind her glasses, but I imagined them filled with deep thoughts. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For finally seeing that.” She straightened her head again.

Ouch … just … ouch …

A few minutes later, the rest of the paddle boarding crew trudged up the beach with their boards in tow.

“Mommy! Mommy! That was so much fun!” Franz tried to run toward me, getting tripped up in the sand.

“That’s great, babe. I knew you’d like it.”

“Where’s my hat?” He stabbed his little hand into the bag, coming up empty.

“Did you leave it on the counter?” I frowned at him, knowing that was exactly where he left it.

“I’ll run and get it.” Ronin slipped his feet into his flip-flops.

“I’ll go with you.” Lila stood. “I need to use the restroom.”

They took one of the two golf carts parked at the end of the path that connected the house to the beach. Franz plopped down in the sand, sorting through the beach toys.

“Will you put more sunscreen on my back, Franz? I think I’m burning.” To leave plenty of room in the shade for Anya to play, I sat halfway in the sun, my back taking the brunt of its rays.