Page 63 of I Still Love You

I asked Layla to be my date in a moment of weakness. I wanted to believe I could do this. Could handle a night with her on my arm, looking like the stunner she is. Truth is, I don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve her beauty circling me. Don’t deserve her kind smiles. Don’t deserve her fucking patience. Not with how I’ve been.

Fucking hell.

I’ve been shoving down the negative feelings to forget about the push and pull between us, but I can’t stand this weight on my chest as much as I can’t tolerate Layla’s back turning in the opposite direction.

I should walk the hell away and let her go, but my legs don’t get the message. I follow her, my loafers brushing the ground beneath my feet as I catch up. She’s fast in her get up, the fabric of her yellow gown swirling behind her as she retreats through a door leading to the foyer of the building.

My hand slams into the door after her, pushing it open. “Layla, wait.”

I’m questioning a fuck load right now, but I don’t want her to walk away. I understand what it means if she does. I just got her back—unofficially, of course—but I can’t let her go. Even if I don’t know what the hell it is that we’re doing.

Damn it.

My mind isn’t right tonight.

She stops short, pulling her tiny ass purse up to flip it open. She finds her phone quickly, and I sidestep a group of people heading into the ballroom. “Put your phone away,” I demand quietly, though I have no right. I have no control over her actions. She’s not mine. If she wants to leave, I can’t stop her.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.

I can’t let her walk out that door without talking. Jesus Christ. Why couldn’t she have just answered the question? We wouldn’t be standing out here if she did. Then again, we also wouldn’t be if I hadn’t asked. My stomach wouldn’t be in a vat of humiliation.

I glance down at her fingers as they tap her screen, tucking my fists into my pockets so I don’t grab her phone from her and toss it out the fucking door. “What are you doing?”

“What I told you, requesting an Uber.”

My teeth graze the inside of my cheek, my mouth twisting in impatience. “If you want to go home, I can take you.”

“It’s okay, Luke,” she says, her voice calm. Calmer than I like. “You’re needed here.”

“Not anymore.” We walked around after dinner and socialized enough. Besides, I’m no longer concerned about mingling but trying to figure out how to back step to fix what I fucked up.

Another tap of her finger, then she moves her phone closer to her face, closer to her ear.

“Don’t do this.” The words get stuck, warning me away from what’s crawling up the back of my throat. Quietly, I beg, “Don’t fucking go. Please.”

Her eyes flare with emotion. “I’m giving you space, Luke. Isn’t that what you need?”

What I need is for her to stay put, for her to allow me to get what’s on my chest off. I’ve been having moments of self-reflection after the Andrew incident, and I’ve concluded that holding onto my thoughts and feelings isn’t good. It all piles up, and eventually, I lose my cool. It’s happening now, my fist clenching as my teeth grow awfully close to drawing blood in my mouth.

My neck bends in her direction, so I can level with her gaze. My hand twitches. Without a second thought, I reach up, yank the phone down, and jab at the center button to back her out of the Uber app. Lucky for me, it sends her back to her home screen, taking away all the progress she’s made.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re trying to bail,” I tell her. “I’m asking you to stay. For fucking once, Layla, stay.”

She looks up at me, turning my own words back at me. “Why did you invite me if you didn’t want me here? I mean, you say you want me to stay, but moments ago, you were looking at me like you hated yourself for asking. I was a fool to think this would work. That we could actually last through the night.”

“I invited you because I wanted you here with me.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I mean it, Layla. I do want you by my side.” Aside from the last five minutes, it’s been a decent evening. We made small talk on the ride here, and she’s been keeping up with the conversations with other guests. For her first time at a Pledge of Commitment charity dinner, she’s holding her own and looking beautiful as hell while doing so.

We might have been faking a relationship for a few weeks, but it’s different tonight. I’m enjoying her more than I thought I would, even if I did question why she came.

Fuck, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I wanted to plant my lips on hers after reading our vows, wanted to blow her away with a honeymoon to remember, wanted to wake up every damn morning with her next to me.

I would’ve been able to handle anything with her by my side.

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