Layla’s POV
The fridge hummed softly as I stood in front of it, staring but not seeing. I wasn’t hungry. I was aching. Again.
My breasts throbbed with pressure, heavy and sore. I thought it would stop by now. It had been nearly three weeks since I weaned Caleb, but my body hadn’t gotten the memo. Every day was a battle not to leak through my shirts, not to flinch when the fabric rubbed too tight.
I rubbed my arm and sighed. It was nearly midnight. My father was out of town for work until tomorrow, and the house was still. But I wasn’t alone.
He was here.
Marcus.
Dad’s best friend. The one who used to toss me in the air when I was five and sneak me sweets behind my mom’s back. The one who helped carry in boxes when I moved back here after the divorce. The one who was now sleeping in t
