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Layla stood in front of her bedroom mirror, inspecting herself from all angles. How far along was she now? It was hard to tell, since she refused to visit the doctor quite yet. Morning sickness had set in for real, and by her count, it had probably been around fourteen weeks since her last period—she’d been in Parsabad for three months now. But an ultrasound seemed out of the question. Not yet. Not while things still seemed relatively normal.
Am I showing yet? She squinted,
twisting to check out her belly from the side. Could Zahir notice anything? He certainly hadn’t seemed to notice anything amiss over the last four weeks of non-stop fooling around. The doorknob jiggled, but she didn’t glance at the doorway. Marian stepped in a moment later, holding up a taupe set of Spanx.
“Here they are.” She waved them in the air. “Flown in especially for you from the US.”
“You act like you didn’t just order these online,” Layla said with a smirk. She snatched them out of her friend’s hands, tugging at each side to test the elasticity. “God. I might never fit into these. What size is this, a small?”
“No, it’s your size. It’s just meant to, you know, keep everything in.” Marian shrugged, sitting on the bed. “Try them on.”
“I’ll need an army of women to get into these once I start growing.”
“You’ll get used to it. It’ll become second nature.”
“Maybe I’ll just put them on once and not take them off again until I deliver,” Layla said, stepping one foot tentatively into the opening of the undergarment.
“Listen, this is a temporary solution,” Marian said, slicing her hand through the air. “You asked me to help, and I did. This is the best I’ve got while you make up your mind about telling Zahir.”
“I already made up my mind,” Layla reminded her, guiding her other foot through the opening. She tugged them up until they met resistance mid-thigh. “I’ve told you. He doesn’t need to know.”
Marian sighed dramatically. “I just think you need to consider this decision further.”
“Why? So I can ruin his family?” Layla scoffed, but it turned into a huff as she struggled to raise the garment higher. “I’m not going to be the black sheep here. It’s one thing for me to come around to being a mother. But I refuse to be someone’s obligatory wife.”
Marian watched flatly through the mirror as Layla tugged the pants higher. “He wouldn’t marry you just because he got you pregnant—”
“Oh really?” Layla laughed sarcastically. “You said yourself this is the most traditional family you’ve ever seen. I can just imagine the scandal his bastard baby would create.”
Marian picked at a nail, her mouth a thin line. “Well, I’m sure you two could work something out...”
“Yeah, and he’d have all the leverage. Compared to him, I’m just some broke girl from New York. Who’s going to win that custody battle, Mare? Not me, that’s for damn sure.” Layla grunted. The torture device didn’t want to crest her hips, no matter how hard she tugged. “Can you give me a hand?”
Marian hopped to her feet, pulling up at the back of the waistband. Layla wiggled around until the Spanx finally slid into place. She heaved a sigh of relief, assessing herself in the mirror.
“Well at least I can still breathe,” she said, examining her body again for any evidence of a bump. “Though I might need to have Zahir cut me out if we ever hook up while I’m wearing them.”
“I can’t imagine your baby growing up not knowing who their daddy is,” Marian said, sounding pitiful.
“I know. I know.” Layla shook her head. “But if I tell him, and we don’t come to the magical perfect agreement in life, then what? Besides, I don’t want to settle down. I don’t want to live here forever. Zahir’s focus is clear—he’s strapped to Almasi-Thomas until the day he dies. If I’m attached to him via this baby, I’ll be forced to stay here with him. I already know it.”
“I think you should tell him,” Marian said, gripping her friend by the hips. “I just know that he’d want to know.”
Layla deflated a little. “I get it. And I promise I’ll think about it. I just…can’t decide yet. I’m still wrapping my head around everything.” She blinked rapidly, a knot appearing in her throat. Probably a sign of the pregnancy. “There’s just so much to think about, you know?”
Marian nodded, her curls bouncing. “I know, honey. I support you in whatever decision you make.”
“And please, don’t tell Omar. If Zahir doesn’t know, nobody can know,” she said, meeting her friend’s gaze hesitantly. It was a tall order. A seriously big request to make of someone. But for now, it was the only decision that felt right. Marian was by her side in this, come hell or high water.
“I promise,” Marian said quietly.
“Now. Let’s see.” Layla turned to her reflection in the mirror once more. “Am I showing or not?”
Marian bit her lip, shaking her head slowly. “Not yet…but when you do, this will hide it.”
Layla frowned. “Well, it looks like the Spanx era will soon be upon us.”
Marian stayed to hang out and chat a bit longer, as well as to help tug Layla out of the skin-tight Spanx, which helped Layla ignore the insistent pinging of her phone. By the time Marian went home to meet Omar for dinner, Layla realized Zahir had been texting her the whole time. Urgent, fun, and playful texts, imploring her to let him take her out to dinner.
