The Side Effects of Marriage

Chapter 1

Three Months Ago

The party had been boring.

A work function to celebrate her promotion at the news agency, Layla had only invited Hayden along for someone to talk to. She was especially grateful to lean on him when her feet were killing her. Placing a hand on the doorjamb, she kicked off her heels, grimacing at the pain in her feet and lower back. Hayden was already in the kitchen, shoes easily removed and jacket thrown over the couch despite her countless requests for him to hang it up.

"Do you want coffee?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll have a cup." She sat down and rubbed her feet for a moment, before joining him in the kitchen.

The kitchen's grey tiles clashed with red wallpaper, a remnant of the previous tenants' tastes. Several lightbulbs with paper shades hung throughout, adding to the bare, industrial feel of the house. It suited them. They were opposites, but both pretty simple.

"Here you go, decaf just as requested," Hayden said, sliding Layla a cup. Had she asked for decaf? She couldn't remember now.

Layla sniffed it before taking a tentative sip, exaggerating her hesitance. "Does this have the rat poison you bought last week?"

"Nah, that's what the gun under the pillow is for," he said, his face deadpan.

"Shut up," she said. "Do we have rats?"

"We have a mole," he said, still serious.

"I thought you were the mole." The coffee was good, even if it was decaf. Her mug hid her smile.

"If I am, who am I working for?" Hayden leaned his hip against the counter.

"You tell me. The CIA?"

She must have hit too close to home in her joke. His eyes hardened, body tensing. "Nah. More like Mossad."

Layla pressed a hand to her chest, mock outrage dropping her mouth open. "You didn't tell me you were Jewish."

"You must have missed the yarmulke," he said, letting his smile spread easily across his face. He'd always been that way: friendly, generous, amiable. More loving than her, maybe. "It blends in with my hair."

She took the cue, standing on tiptoe and ruffling his hair. "With all the grey you have? No way."

Hayden caught her hand, holding it tightly in his grasp. "Are you calling me old?"

"You're starting to look like Inky, that's all I'm saying." Layla drained her decaf.

Hearing her name, the white cat came up to them, curling up at Layla's feet and purring. She didn't usually come when called, but she preferred Layla to Hayden. They would often find her clothes cluttered with clumps of snowy fur if they left the closet door open.

"Now, that's a compliment," Hayden said, bending down to pick up the cat.

Inky yowled, looking alarmed by the display of affection, and jumped out of his arms, going off to eat her food in silence. Layla had left it out that morning. There was a twinge in her heart as she watched her slink into the shadows. Layla had a soft spot for Inky as much as the cat did for her.

Still, her laugh this time was open and sincere. "I don't think she agrees."

"All cats are narcissists," Hayden said, nodding. "She would think it's a compliment."

Somehow, they had both abandoned their cups and were now standing in front of each other, a few inches separating them. As Hayden rearranged his hair, the wedding band on his ring finger glinted. She twisted hers around her finger before she glanced up at him.