Layla was still smiling, though, entirely unaware of the inner turmoil her presence caused Charlotte. Smiling excitedly, even as her eyebrows drew down in momentary confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for Sutton,” she said, lifting her eyebrows expectantly.
A dawning took place as Layla nodded. “Right, right. She’s been working on your book. Which I’m very excited about reading, for the record.”
“Amazing,” she said back, frosty smile still in place.
Layla paused for a second at her tone before she visibly shook her head and then stepped back, opening Sutton’s front door wider. “Come on in; Sutton’s with Lucy in her room, but they should be down any minute.”
Charlotte walked through the door and felt that god-awful feeling that curled through the pit of her stomach only intensify at Layla inviting her in. She could not believe someone who had disrespected Sutton as a partner, a wife, and a person would have the audacity to welcome her into Sutton’s own home.
It wasinsane, this feeling, and she attempted to work through it as she shed her jacket and hung it up. There was jealousy, in the slightest bit, at the baseline thatthis womanhad been married to Sutton, regardless of how their relationship had ended.
Anger, pity, and sheer distaste at the way in which this woman had treated Sutton flooded in, mixing with the jealousy until it was a quagmire of nastiness.
And amid all of it, a part of her had to begratefulthat Layla had ultimately ended their marriage in any way because it meant Charlotte could be here. Could have whatever she was having with Sutton now.
It was confusing and ugly and not at all what she’d anticipated when planning this Christmas Eve surprise.
As she turned to continue down the entry hall toward the living room, she caught Layla studying her. “I’ve been a fan of yours since you first ran for Congress,” she said, shaking her head in wonder. “Well, I was a big fan of your grandmother’s, of course.”
“Of course,” Charlotte echoed. In fairness, she had yet to come across a non-conservative woman who wasn’t a fan of the first female president of their country. It wasn’t a very high bar to jump over to gain that bit of her respect.
“I was nearing the end of my surgical residency at New York Presbyterian, and I’d follow along with your debates during downtime on my shifts. It was so gratifying—amazing, really—when you came out a couple of years ago. To know that one of the most promising leaders in the country is also a lesbian? That’s incredible.”
“Thank you,” she accepted, studying Layla.
If this were a different circumstance, she could truly appreciate that comment. In one way, a small way, she did. From an accomplished surgeon who was also a lesbian, Charlotte appreciated it.
But nothing deterred her from the other bigger picture at hand.
“And now here you are.” She gestured at Charlotte as they came to stand at the end of the hallway, shaking her head in amazement.
“Yes, here I am,” she once again echoed. She wasn’t quite sure she had anything positive to say to Layla, and she was fairly certain Sutton wouldn’t appreciate any of the negative comments she had.
But she wanted this with Sutton, she reasoned with herself. She wanted to know where this could go. She wanted, she thought with alarming clarity, everything Sutton would give her. Anything they could have in a future together, she wanted.
And a future with Sutton would have to include Layla.
Maybe even more alarming in this moment was that no matter the situation—no matter how new or uncomfortable or strange—she didn’t care. If it involved Sutton, involved them being together, she wanted it.
It wasn’t a shock to her, but itwassomething she hadn’t thought she would be actively reckoning with while standing in Sutton’s home, a foot away from her ex-wife.
She cleared her throat, recognizing that she needed to make the effort. “What will you and Lucy be doing for Christmas this year?”
Layla glanced down the hall to where Lucy’s bedroom was, her smile dimming just a bit. “Um, tonight we’ll be going to see my parents. Tomorrow, my wife’s family is coming over; we’re hosting. There will be a lot of kids—Arianne has seven nieces and nephews, all around Lucy’s age—so I think she’ll have a good time.”
“I’m sure she’ll have fun.”
“I’m hoping so,” Layla murmured with a nod.
She wondered where Lucy and Sutton were, but she felt she couldn’t ask. She wondered if Sutton had known that the timing of plans had changed or if it had been a last-minute change on Layla’s part. She didn’t forget a word Sutton said, and sheknewthat Sutton had informed her that Layla was supposed to have been here over two hours ago to pick Lucy up. She didn’t speak on that either.
She didn’t really have to speak on anything, as Layla looked back at her curiously. “It’s Christmas Eve,” she said.
Charlotte lifted her eyebrows in question when she realized that was all Layla was going to say and couldn’t help but retort, “And it’s the seventh day of Hannukah.”
Layla didn’t remark on that at all. Instead, she dropped her gaze down to the tote bag that Charlotte had rested on the floor before looking back up at Charlotte with suspicion in her green eyes.
