Page 69 of For the Love of Layla

“My fiancé. You said boyfriend, he’s my fiancé.” I whisper as bile rises in my throat. Nobody is paying attention to me for the time being, but that’s fine. I double over, wrapping my arms around my stomach like they’re the only things holding me together. I remember his sweaty forehead pressed against me as he smiled that beautiful, cunning smile. His firm hands shook when he held me. I finally got to tell him I loved him.

He’s not… no. He’s not.

I held him; I watched the manor burn at his side. He looked happy. I’mhis.What am I supposed to do if I’m not his?

Liam… ohmyfuckinggod Liam.

“Layla, no!” Brandon grabs for me, but I slip from him. My heart pounding as the heat from the manor becomes unbearable. It doesn’t stop me. How could it? My palms burn, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but him.

The room falls silent as an agonized scream comes from somewhere beside me, or maybe from me. I can’t tell and I don’t care to figure it out. The things flashing in my head won’t stop, I can’t make it stop. I don’t fight the wrong feeling hands as they touch my burned skin, forcing me back into the hospital bed. Nor do I fight anything that comes after.

I love you. I love you so much. Please, please stop, stop touching me. He’ll kill you, I’m his. He’s going to kill all of you.

Four Days After Liam

I run my fingers over the cool metal of the bench in front of Fairview. It hurts, but in a grounding way. The pain keeps me from floating back to the recesses of my mind as Ava pulls her car around. It’s hard not to go there so I don’t fight it. I give in to him. To the thought of him, of the last time I was here. On this very bench, basking in the cool air in the morning sun. I thought things were hard then. I thought I was numb, God… I had no idea.

I watch Liam step out of his sleek car. His dark pressed navy-blue suit makes him look every bit the powerful CEO that he is. It's not the exact one I imagined him in on the phone, but Liam is always unfairly attractive no matter what he’s wearing. His full lips turn up at the corners as his ocean blue eyes land on me. I want to return the smile, but it never comes. I want to tell him how good it feels to see him, how thankful I am for him getting me out of here, but my words fail me. He knows, he always knows what I need, what I want to say. He reaches out, holding out his hand for me, “Ready to go home, little star?” I take it quickly. His warm hand feels like balm on my soul.

Yes. I am.

“Layla?”

Not looking away from the ground, I stand slowly from the bench as we head to the warm car. She helps me in, even though I don’t need it, but I don’t fight her. Don’t fight anything anymore, it's easier that way. I watch the wipers dispatch the water droplets left behind by the falling snow as it melts against the glass. Grateful for the first relative moment of privacy since I was brought here. It was jarring, being pinned by eyes that weren’t his.

“Lay… I know this isn’t a good time, but they really need your signature on the papers. They’ve been calling and stopping by nonstop.”

I never wanted this.

“Can’t they give it to Brandon?” I ask, ignoring the small whimper she makes from the driver’s seat. On a normal day I might’ve rolled my eyes. This is the first time I’ve spoken since the hospital, not necessarily on purpose. I just haven’t had anything to say. After everything that’s happened, the light at the end of my tunnel was snuffed out. A beautiful, selfish, insane man snuffed along with it and he took me with him. Just like he promised he would.

I still have nothing to say. I don’t think this is what he meant. Once things are handled, maybe I’ll fix it, make it the way he meant. It feels like the right thing to do. Although I’ve found right and wrong are wildly subjective to me these days.

I suppose you could call this the denial stage. That’s what the psychiatrist said it was. At the risk of sounding cliché, it doesn’t feel like real life. Like this is some weird nightmare I’ll wake up from, and he’ll be there. Beside me, I don’t even care if I’m chained to that damn bed. Chained to him as long as he’s-

Stop. Stop this.

“It was in his will to leave you everything, babe. You can’t refuse that. It’s what he wanted.” The chipped tone in her voice isn’t lost on me, but I don’t fault her for it. Seeing all the evidence compiled without knowing him like I do would be alarming I’ll admit. I would probably feel the same if the situation were flipped. He never stopped to ask me what I wanted. All of this could’ve been avoided. James, Officer Daniels and his wife, hell even Grace might still be alive had we both not been so fucking stupid.

“If you’re ever fortunate enough to find someone that loves you so ferociously it turns your world inside out with napalm skies. Never let them go.”

I failed them both. Not only did I let him go, I shoved him away, and he cracked under the pressure. He needed me so badly, he never hid that part not for a moment even if the rest was built around lies. I turned him away… over and over again. For what? Pride, anger? Nodding to myself I reach onto the dash and jerk down the Manila envelope. I don’t read the fine print as I sign my name at the highlighted sections once I flip to the last page I pause. The words there catching my eyes… and my heart.

Petition for change of name.

“What’s this?” I hold up the paper so Ava can glance at it as she heads down the winding road away from Fairview.

“Did you seriously not even read the damn thing?”

“No.”

She sighs heavily, “It’s one of the many weird ass and probably illegal clauses in his will. I already had a lawyer pick through it and its iron clad. In order to receive his shares, life insurance cetera you have to legally change your last name to Curran.” My laugh shocks me almost as much as it does her, “I’m fine with that.” I shudder before the laughter quickly devolves into violent, loud sobs. I gently slide my hand away as Ava reaches for it, the idea of being touched by anyone but him makes me sick.

So fucking sick.

“Lay, you really need to talk to someone… about the stuff he did to you. Why… why didn’t you tell me it was that bad? I would’ve been there. God, Layla he chained you up, he raped-”

“He didn’t rape me.” I snap, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I wanted it. Every bit I enjoyed; it might not make sense to you-”

---