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“I’m sorry about earlier,” Marc says. “I didn’t mean for…”
Layla rolls her eyes, even though he can’t see. “What do you have to apologize for?” She turns in Marc’s arms, bringing her hand up to cup his face. “How many times do I have to say I love every part of you?”
Marc leans his forehead against hers, his eyes closing. “This isn’t that, Layla. It’s…weird. I’m an adult. I’m your husband.”
She pauses, hunting for the right thing to say. After so long of saying a little amnesia doesn’t change the fact that we’re married, she now finds herself backpedaling. She loves Marc; she loves the Kid.
“It is that,” she decides. “I don’t love you all the same way. Steven and I talk about poetry, Jake and I talk shit, and now Kid and I talk about poker.”
“You taught him how to play poker?”
“Well, you don’t exactly have a lot of activities for a child lying around. I did the best with what I have.” She bites her lip. “We should get Legos.”
“Layla—”
“Everyone likes Legos. It’s practically a rule.”
“Layla—”
“Or we could get a puzzle, I think he would like that.”
“Layla—”
“D’you think he’s seen Indiana Jones? Because—”
“Layla!” Marc shifts away from her, rolling flat on his back. “Thank you for doing this. Really. Not everyone would stick around after that. But you don’t need to pretend.”
Layla rolls onto her back. They’re staring at the same ceiling in the same dark room. They’ve spent the better part of the day together, but Marc can only start counting from a few hours ago.
“I’m not pretending.” She puts her hand on his chest, warning him not to interrupt. “Today, Marc Spector, I met a child who didn’t know any games he wanted to play. So I played one with him, and I’m not sure, but I think he had fun.”
“I didn’t exactly spend a lot of time playing games.”
“I know.” She shifts her hand down his arm, clasping their hands together. “And there’s a part of you who’s hurting over that, whether or not you want to acknowledge him.”
“Steven says he doesn’t think he deserves any time in front,” Marc says. “And I—”
Layla waits.
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I,” she says. “But I had a good time this afternoon. I’d like to do it again sometime.”