Page 82 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
I want to reach out and touch her, offer her comfort, but I remain still, my hands at my side. “I’m sorry, Layla. That’s awful.”
She glances up and meets my eyes for a second before she looks away. The sheets on the shelf have her complete attention.
“It was stressful. You don’t know how that much debt feels, especially as a teenager. I worked hard for scholarships and grants because I knew we had no money to pay for college. When I started teaching, it was the first time in my life I didn’t have to account for every penny.” She hangs her head and rubs at her temple as if ashamed for her past actions. “I bought a nice car and went on vacations. I went clothes shopping every weekend. I lived it up and spent money like I would always have more. So stupid. I knew better.”
“That’s not living it up,” I say. “That’s living. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I should have saved for a rainy day. If there is anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that a financial disaster is just around the corner.”
“Layla, no.”
I want to say more, but how can I argue? I’ve never been in Layla’s situation. When I was growing up, we didn’t have much, but we always had enough. We took a road trip every year and went out to eat at least once a week. I never felt poor until I compared my situation to my cousins.
Layla shakes her head. “I should have saved money instead of vacationing in Hawaii so that when Nana was scammed out of everything, we would’ve had something to fall back on.”
Scammed. I know about Layla’s debt and her reason for marrying Spencer, but to find out some person stole from her grandma has me furious. How do people like that exist in this world? My jaw clenches so tight that I can’t speak a word, but what can I say except that I want to find thatscammer and pummel him into the ground? What’s done is done.
She surprises me when she pokes me in the chest. Hard. “For a year-and-a-half I’ve done everything I can think of to pay for Nana’s care. I’m exhausted. So don’t judge me. You don’t know what it’s like to be financially depleted and emotionally spent. To be drowning in debt with no way to pay it off. My future is bleak. Spencer has offered to take care of everything. I want relief. I want to breathe again. I want to live. Be happy for me.”
I can’t, now even more so than yesterday. My resolve from twenty minutes ago to let her make her choice without my interference disintegrates. I have one last chance to convince her this reasoning is wrong, and I can’t let it pass me by.
“I can help you with money for your grandma,” I say. “I sold my manufacturing company at the beginning of the year, remember? I have more money than I know what to do with. I ask for nothing in return. You don’t even have to see me again after this week, if that’s what you want.” Though I hope that option isn’t on the table. “Just don’t marry Spencer.”
She breathes out a long breath. When she looks at me, conviction shines in her eyes. “Spencer needs me, just like I need him. Our agreement to marry is mutually beneficial. I can’t accept your money because there’s no benefit to you.”
I want to shake sense into her. “Helping you would make me happy. If that’s not beneficial, then what is?”
Layla leans forward and kisses my cheek. Her lips are soft. The scent of peppermint clings to her, and I wonder absently how many candy canes she’s eaten today.
“I can’t pull you into my financial mess when I havenothing to give you in return,” she whispers. “Thank you for a lovely Christmas.”
She opens the door and leaves, flipping off the light switch before shutting me in the dark.
A second later, she reaches back in to turn on the light. “Sorry. Habit.”
It doesn’t matter if the light is on or off, the devastation Layla’s caused remains either way.
LAYLA
Stepping out of the closet may be one of the hardest things that I’ve asked of myself. I’m leaving Owen behind for good. He truly wants to help me, but I can’t accept. If only–
No. I’m not wishing for something that can never be. Spencer and I will have a functional, mutually beneficial marriage. We will be happy together.
Just as soon as I forget all about Owen.
It won’t be easy. When he didn’t come to lunch or show up this afternoon for the poker game in the family room, I kept glancing at the door, anticipating his arrival. It will be hard to untangle my feelings for him when all I want is tobewith him.
One moment at a time, beginning now.
I need a few minutes alone to decompress. I’ve never shared with anyone the details of my childhood like I did to Owen just now. The emotions the memories brought up, as well as saying goodbye to him, have worn me out.
When I saw Owen, I was on my way upstairs to grab myphone charger since my phone is almost dead after all the pictures I’ve taken today. I’ll take a breather in my room before going back into the family room.
Tori comes down the stairs as I head up them.
“Have you seen Owen?” she asks.
Um, maybe.Tori is the only one who hasn’t caught on to my feelings for the wrong cousin, and I’d like to keep it that way.
