The Heart System

Chapter 874: Chapter 874

The coffee shop door opened again a few minutes later, and Layla stepped inside. She paused near the entrance, looking around for me. Once she spotted me, her face brightened, and she walked over.

"Sorry." Layla pulled her coat closer around herself. "The streets were closed off. I had to take the long way."

"No worries." I stood and pulled her chair out for her. Once she sat down, I gently pushed it toward the table. "At least you got off work early."

"Yeah. And the sales were good today, too."

"Happy for you." I sat back down and took another sip of my coffee. "What’ll you have?"

"Orange juice." She answered almost immediately. "I’ve been craving it since yesterday."

A waiter happened to pass by, so I raised my hand and caught his attention.

"Can we get an orange juice, please?"

"Of course."

The waiter nodded and walked away.

"So," I said, resting my arms on the table. "How was the bike racing? Did you manage to watch any of it?"

"Oh, no. It was so crowded." Layla shook her head. "There were people everywhere. I couldn’t get anywhere near the good spots. But I did see a man do a 180 in the air."

"With a bike, I hope." I smiled.

"Oh, yeah. With a big bike."

We both chuckled, and the laughter faded naturally after a few seconds.

Layla pulled her phone from her pocket and opened an app. She didn’t try to hide what she was doing. Instead, she placed the phone on the table and turned it toward me. Security cameras. The app showed the area outside her shop, where the bike race was taking place.

"Look at them go," Layla said, leaning closer to the phone. "Can you imagine me on one of those bikes?"

"Hey, I can’t even imagine myself on one." I laughed. "Let alone a pregnant woman."

"That’s fair."

I watched the footage for a moment. The bikers were moving ridiculously fast, weaving around the course before launching themselves off makeshift ramps. Some of the jumps looked like they had been designed by people who didn’t have much concern for their bones.

"These people are something else," I muttered.

Layla smiled. "I think it’s exciting."

"I think it’s a great way to turn yourself into a hospital bill."

She laughed and nudged the phone slightly closer to me.

"Here’s the orange juice," the waiter said as he returned with her drink.

"Thank you." Layla smiled and took the glass.

The waiter nodded and walked away.

"So, how’s working with Carrie?" Layla asked.

"I don’t see her that often." I shrugged. "She just... backs a project at the company I work for."

"How are you and... her?" Layla asked, probing a little harder this time. "Like... relationship-wise. That’s what I’m asking."

"We... rarely see each other." I shifted slightly in my chair. "Yeah."

"Mm."

The silence that followed made it pretty obvious that she wasn’t buying my answer completely.

"I, uh..." Layla cleared her throat. "I’m not going to beat around the bush. I know I asked before, but... Carrie. How did you do it?"

I lowered my voice. "Well... turns out the famous Carrie has some certain kinks."

Layla’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

"But we haven’t seen each other in a long time now," I added.

"Mmh."

Yeah, this was awkward.

I needed a quick change of subject before the silence stretched any further. Still, I could understand her curiosity. Carrie was a beloved celebrity, known for her charity events and her big heart. If the public ever found out about what happened between her and me, I had no idea what kind of chaos that would cause.

"My turn to probe into your private life." I smiled. "Your husband. You never talk about him."

Layla’s expression changed slightly. She looked down at her drink before answering.

"He’s... been missing from my life for a long time. Let’s leave it at that." She gave me a small smile. "Yeah..."

"Mm. Sorry to hear that." I nodded. "Must be hard, living alone like this, working a job that’s... kind of exhausting."

"Yeah. But I do well... for myself." She smiled and took a sip of her orange juice. "Mm. Feels nice."

She suddenly straightened in her chair, her eyes widening slightly. She looked at me, and for a second, I wasn’t sure what had happened.

I had been about to take another drink from my coffee, but stopped when I noticed her expression. She wasn’t even close to her due date, so I had no idea what was going on. How far along was she again? Five months?

"Yeah." She smiled after a moment, looking down at herself. "The pads you bought me are working."

"The... pa..." I blinked. "Oh." I finally understood. "You’re... leaking?"

"Yeah." She glanced down at her dress and checked the fabric. "And it doesn’t show anything."

"Glad it’s working."

Well, that was a lot more awkward than talking about Carrie.

But... never mind.

"I, um..." she began. "With pregnancy, there’s this... craving for food that comes with it. And lately, I’ve been wanting to eat sushi. But, big but, I’d never even eaten sushi before."

"Oh, I know a place you can order from," I said. "Sushi isn’t really my thing, but I heard from Jasm... from a friend that they make the best ones."

"Yeah. I don’t know how to hold those stick things they have."

"I have a friend, Tuck. His sister used to watch those Korean food videos all the time. She’d force us to eat noodles with those things." I chuckled. "I can recommend those videos to you."

"Wow. I’m that rusty, huh?" she muttered. "Sorry, it’s been decades since I... did this."

"Did what?"

"Would you like to... come and have dinner at my house?"

"Oh..."

Ah, fuck. She had been trying to arrange a dinner with me while I babbled about chopsticks and Korean food videos. Fuck. But come on, she had been so vague about it. I genuinely thought she was asking for help with holding those "stick things" while eating.

"Let’s... start that again." I made a small circle with my index finger. "Run it back."

She chuckled. "Oh my God, okay." She cleared her throat before trying again. "I want to eat sushi lately, but I don’t know how to hold those stick thingies."

"Ah, you can just eat it with your hands. That’s pretty common." I smiled.

She gently kicked my foot under the table. "You..."

"Sorry, sorry." I grinned. "Tomorrow sound good? Maybe... seven?"

"Seven works."

"That’s a date, then," I said, leaning back in my chair.

She bit her lip for a quick second and looked up at me. "Yep."

Boy, oh, boy...

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