Egotistically Yours by Hayley Faiman

Chapter Four

LAURENT

Bethie startsto load her laundry into the washer and I look around. I’ve never done this before, not even in college. I had my own condo with a few friends and we had a washer and dryer in the condo, but we usually just hired a service to do our laundry. Honestly, I’ve never done my own before.

This is totally out of my element.

“Why are you here?” she asks once she puts detergent in, then loads the machine with coins.

My brows lift in surprise at the fact that she has to pay for this, especially since it’s in her building. It’s not like she went to a private laundromat. I don’t answer her immediately, too mesmerized by the whole process of what is going on.

“Laurent?”

My body jerks and I clear my throat. “I was an ass when I came here a few weeks ago. I’d just heard and I drove over here angry. I shouldn’t have threatened you. I shouldn’t have been that way.”

Admitting I was wrong isn’t something I would ever normally do, no matter who is on the other end or what I’ve done to them. But this is different. Bethie deserves this admission of guilt more than anyone ever could.

She turns completely around to face me but doesn’t close the distance between us. That’s okay, I don’t need her to touch me, she isn’t ready and I understand that.

I’ve spent the past few weeks thinking about what my father said. I’ve also been working my ass off trying to get my new venture off the ground, trying to change the face of Astor Investment Banking. I’m not sure it’s working yet.

“Thank you, Laurent. I appreciate your words.”

“Are you going to tell me what I already know?” I ask.

She looks to the side, then guides her gaze back to meet my own. I arch my brow, waiting for her response. Bethie opens her mouth, then snaps it closed and presses her lips together. She shakes her head a few times, her eyes watery as they meet mine.

“Laurent,” she whispers.

“Doesn’t matter, Bethie.” Her eyes widen, but I continue. “I’m going to earn your trust. You’ll tell me and it will be because you trust me enough that you’ll want to, not because I forced you.”

She licks her lips, shifting her gaze to the side, then brings it back to meet mine. “What are you trying to say?” she asks.

Clearing my throat, I can’t blame her for asking me. She looks so confused. I haven’t even attempted to contact her since I made it clear she was nothing more than a fuck. Since I pushed her far away from me. She doesn’t know that I’ve thought about her every day and night. She has no fucking idea that she is the one that got away—the one that I pushed away.

“I’m here for you, Bethie. I want to be here for you, for both of you in any way that I can.”

She presses her lips together before she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and chews. She opens her mouth a few times, closing it, then opening it again before she starts to speak, but before she can say anything, the baby that is nestled close to her starts to cry.

“He’s hungry,” she whispers.

She looks around, but she doesn’t have anywhere else to sit except next to me. With a sigh, she walks over to me, sitting down and begins to unwrap the baby from the contraption she’s wearing. I watch, mesmerized by how just some fabric could hold him to her body so well.

I can’t look away as she takes him in her arms. He’s gorgeous. Licking my dry lips, I want to touch him, but I don’t know the rules. So, I watch. She covers herself as she shifts his body and her breast to feed him. I should probably turn around to give her privacy, but I can’t. Nobody could draw my attention away from this beautiful moment.

This is beautiful too, every second of it.

“You’re staring,” Bethie whispers.

I hum, still watching unabashedly. “I am. Seeing you feed him, it’s beautiful. There’s no shame at all to it.”

I don’t add that I am watching her feed my son, so there is seriously no shame in it. She’s not ready to admit that he’s mine yet, aloud. I’m okay with that. At least that’s what I tell myself, over and over, a chant that I will probably be saying for a good long while.

She doesn’t say anything in response, again, I’m okay with that. We don’t say anything for a few moments, then I turn to her, clearing my throat.

“Can I know his name?” I ask.

I feel so out of place in this moment, in this situation. I am used to being the one in control, always. This is different, because right now I’ve given all of the control in this situation over to Bethie.

“Tucker,” she whispers, her gaze finding mine and holding it.

I can see that she is watching and waiting for my reaction. She wants my approval of the name. How can I not approve? Is it a name I would have chosen on my own? I don’t know, therefore it doesn’t matter.

Personally, I never thought that I would have children of my own. This is all so uncharted territory for me, that I am going into all of this completely blind.

“It’s a good name, strong.”

She nods her head. “He has my last name …” she says, but her words trail off.

She doesn’t say, for now or that it can be changed later, she just lets the words hang in the air. He will have his last name changed as soon as fucking possible, but I’m not going to demand it today, right this second, so I do nothing except nod my head with understanding.

“Of course, he has your last name,” I say.

We stay that way, she and I, in the laundromat of her building. It’s awkward, but eventually we start to chat and things become less awkward. I wouldn’t say that they become comfortable, but it’s a start.

By the time the laundry is finished, I still haven’t held the baby, but I’ve looked at him enough to know that he’s mine. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel in this situation, but as I help Bethie carry the laundry basket back to her apartment, I can’t imagine leaving him for the night.

Once we’re back in her apartment, I look around and realize that it’s the first time I’ve ever actually been inside of her place. It’s cute, a little feminine, but cute.

“How about I order us some dinner?” I ask.

Bethie turns around to face me, her eyes wide. “Dinner?” she asks.

I flick my gaze between Tucker and her. “Yeah, dinner. That way you don’t have to cook anything.”

Her eyes stay wide as she continues to watch me for a long moment in silence. “Okay, Laurent. I think I’d like that.”

Victory.

At least it feels that way right now.

I hope I continue to have these victories and that soon I’ll have my son and her—both of them with me, maybe even forever.

BETHANIE

I don’t knowwhat kind of game that Laurent is playing. He ordered dinner for the two of us last night, we ate it, then he cleaned up and left. I stayed up most of the night thinking about what had happened. He wasn’t as angry as he was a few weeks ago, but there was something simmering just beneath the surface.

My phone alerts me to a new notification and I jump before I grab it. There’s a new text from Tennessee. I don’t know what I expect it to say, but when there is a picture of her, Landry, and their new baby, my heart squeezes. They look like the perfect family all gathered in the hospital bed.

TENNY: Hanna Bradley Astor

6lb 5oz 20 inches long.

Ten fingers. Ten toes. Dark hair, blue eyes.

Perfect.

She is perfect too. Just like Tennessee. I smile as I stare at the picture for far too long. I can’t deny my envy. I wish that my experience was as beautiful as the picture of Tenny’s. I never imagined myself a single mother.

I always thought that I would have a white fence, live in a two-story home somewhere in the suburbs of Dallas and have a husband who adored me. Maybe in my vision, we even had a dog—a yellow lab.

What I didn’t expect was to be living in a one-bedroom apartment, working full time to make ends meet and being a single mom. I really never imagined any of this, but as I look down at Tucker, I realize that my plans, my imagination, none of it matters. Only he does. I would never trade him, not for all of the normal plans in the world.

She’s beautiful. I can’t wait to snuggle her.I text Tennessee back.

TENNY: Maybe we can get together for dinner next week? I still haven’t officially met Tucker.

Another wave of guilt rolls through me. My best friend hasn’t seen my baby yet. Just when he was born, nothing else. It’s not because I’ve been intentionally keeping him from her, but I haven’t left my house.

My mom had stayed here for a few weeks and been helping, I haven’t needed to. That ship has sailed though, at least during the week. It’s time for me to pull up my big girl panties and get back out in the world.

Tell me when and we will be there.

TENNY: I will. Can’t wait.

I send her another congrats with a few emojis then set my phone down just as Tucker starts to wake from his nap with a cry. Pushing myself up to stand, I walk into my bedroom where his small bassinet is set up.

Looking inside of the bassinet, his little legs are kicking and his arms start moving up and down as he cries out. His face is red, but he’s just so cute even crying that I just stare at him for a moment. Then the doorbell rings. My body jerks and I reach down, scooping him up in my arms as I carry him toward the door.

Peeking through the peephole, I blink at the sight of Laurent standing on the other side of my doorway, again. It’s not like he wasn’t just here a few hours ago, and yet here he is again. He smiles directly at me as if he knows that I’m watching him from the door.

With a sigh, I open the door, knowing that Tucker’s cries cannot be masked. “Hey,” he says as soon as I open the door wide enough that he can see us.

“Hey,” I murmur.

He reaches out one hand and touches Tucker’s cheek. “He hungry?” he asks.

Nodding, I step to the side to allow him into the apartment. “He just woke up from his nap.”

“Oh good,” Laurent says, breezing past me. It’s then that I notice he has a bag in his hand. “I brought lunch.”

“Lunch?” I ask as I walk over to the sofa.

I want to ask Laurent a million questions, but I don’t. Tucker is demanding to be fed and he’s demanding it immediately. I sink down and adjust myself so that I can feed Tucker.

He’s hungrier than I thought, he latches on immediately and begins to suckle. Laurent sets the bag down on my coffee table and begins to take two containers out.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I remembered you liked that café by the office, so I ordered a few things from there.”

My heart squeezes. I loved that café. I went there almost every day for lunch with Tennessee. They were fast and the food was great. The fact that he remembers sends warm fuzzies throughout my entire body.

“Laurent?”

He stops organizing the food and looks up to me. “Bethie?”

“Why are you here?”

His lips turn down into a frown, then slowly curve up into a smile. “I told you that I was going to earn your trust. That’s what I’m doing.”

“By bringing me lunch?” I ask.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “By being present.”

“Oh,” I breathe.

He doesn’t say anything else about it and neither do I. Instead, we eat lunch and I decide that it’s time that Laurent holds his son. I can’t keep the tears from falling. I try to wipe them away, but it’s too beautiful for words.

If I thought that Tennessee and Landry were beautiful with their new daughter, I didn’t realize how gorgeous Laurent would be holding his son.