"Gemma, I really can't talk right now. I'm busy."
Despite my protests, she continues to ramble on about some guy that came into the shop and started to hit on her. On any other day I would be fascinated, really, truly fascinated.
But, today is not that day.
I'm scurrying around this apartment –setting up cards, banners, and snacks- all the while trying to not let my heart sink down to my feet at the desolation; the empty feeling this place gives me.
There is more furniture here than the last time I was over; small tables next to the suede couch I helped her move, a television stand –minus the telly-, and table lamps to brighten up the room.
Yet, still, there are no personal affects. No pictures, no paintings, not even any trinkets or keepsakes.
Empty. Cold. Heart-breaking.
Heartbreaking because Layla has no pictures or memories to display and heartbreaking because this makes it easier for her to leave. Makes this apartment seem interchangeable.
A thought that nearly makes me dizzy with fear.
As Gemma continues to ramble on, I silently make a vow to fill this apartment one day. Not only with furniture, but also with paintings and pictures and memories that Layla could never leave behind. With memories she never had, but always deserved.
"Speaking of romantic interests... When are you ever gonna shag that redheaded bird you're always talking about?"
I nearly choke on air, eyes bulging out of my sockets, and face turning red as if Layla could hear her through the phone.
"What –what are you... You can't just... I don't want to shag her... I mean I do, of course I do, but that's not what I – that's not-"
"What are you doing in my apartment?"
The light and breathy voice that I would recognize in a crowd of hundreds sends shivers down my spine and makes me freeze instantaneously. The flush on my cheeks spreads to the tips of my ears and I swivel on the spot to face her –hoping she didn't catch the end of that conversation.
Layla is standing in her doorway dressed in the same striped shirt and ripped jeans she was wearing the day she went to the hospital, a bandage wrapped around her head, with furrowed brows, and a hand lingering on the doorknob.
And I just really want to kiss her.
But, instead, I chew on my lip, hanging up the phone and whistling lowly –our signal I would've sounded earlier had I not fallen victim to my sister's ramblings and vulgar questions.
Eliza and Niall come stumbling out of the kitchen, eyes widening when they see Layla already standing there.
"Surprise!"
I can't help but chuckle at the failed attempt to surprise her and Layla's confusion slowly eases, a smile taking it's place. Her light eyes scan the banner that welcomes her home and all of the get well cards on her coffee table and I swear her eyes start to tear up.
"You guys," She laughs, the biggest smile I've seen on her since she came here spreading across her cheeks, dimples on full display, "You didn't have to do this for me."
Eliza pulls her into a swift hug, making Layla hesitate for only a second before wrapping her arms around her loosely.
"Of course we did. You're our friend."
If her eyes weren't watering before they sure are now.
Layla pulls away first, moving to greet Niall with a simple smile and arm graze before saddling up to me. She hesitates, and I can see something flash through her eyes before she offers me tight-lipped smile.
"Thanks, Harry."
And then she turns away.
The disappointment that fills me is almost crippling -my shoulders slumping, grin slipping into a frown, and heart freezing at her dismissal. Eliza glances at me over Layla's shoulder and I can even see her confusion at the cold greeting.
She hugged Eliza and even Niall got an arm graze, but I get nothing?
My mind flashes to the kiss last night and I try to use that as an excuse for her standoffish behavior, but I can't help the gut-feeling that there is more to the story.
"How did you guys even get in here?"
Niall laughs quietly, "I promised Betsy I wouldn't smoke in our room anymore if she let us borrow her set of keys."
"That was awfully generous of her."
"It also probably had something to do with me accent. Women can't resist it. It's the luck of the Irish, right babe?" Niall turns to Eliza with a smug grin, but she only rolls her eyes in response.
"I think it has more to do with the fact that everyone knows you won't stop nagging until you get what you want –whether it's a set of keys or a date."
They continue to banter, but I am hardly paying attention –my eyes solely focused on the girl my mind is always focused on.
Besides the thank you and her reaction at the door, she hasn't glanced my way or spoken a word to me. I wrack my brain for something, anything I could've done to warrant the cold shoulder, but my mind comes up blank.
Because even with her hot and cold nature, even when we kissed, or when she was vulnerable with me, she still spoke to me. Tried to make things less awkward.
But, now it's just radio silence.
And I don't want to admit how bad it hurts. How much I miss her even though she is standing right next to me.
"So, the doctor cleared you? You're all good?"
I tune back into the conversation after we have all gathered around the coffee table, munching on pretzels and cheap beer. I've sat next to Layla on the couch, though she scooted to the far end and Eliza sits on Niall's lap on the loveseat next to us.
Layla nods at her question, finishing a pretzel before speaking, "Mostly. She said I'll probably have dizzy spells for a few weeks and the bump on my head is gonna swell up even more, but besides that I am as good as new."
"What about your old injuries? Did the doctor say anything about those?"
The question comes from Niall, who wasn't even there for that conversation, and it has both Layla and I freezing. Eliza slaps him on the arm, causing him to gasp in alarm and hiss at the pain.
Eliza glances at Layla in silent apology, but she just offers a shaky smile in return.
"She wanted to reset a few bones, but as long as I'm not in pain I don't see the point in opening old wounds."
Her words silence us and offer no explanation to how those injuries got there in the first place, and we don't ask. Just another mystery to add to her growing pile.
The conversation turns to more lighthearted topics; the café, Niall and I's boss, and some movie Eliza saw recently. But, the longer that Layla ignores me, the more dejected I begin to feel and it doesn't take long for me to find an excuse to leave the room.
As soon as I get up with the excuse to use the restroom Layla finally glances at me. Only for a split second before she quickly looks back down at her lap, but it's ridiculous how much that single peek has my heart lifting.
How much hold this girl has on me.
Our apartment's layouts are fairly similar, so the door that leads to the loo in my flat is the one I open, but it's not the bath I enter, it's the bedroom.
It's as empty as the living room –if not more, but impeccably neat.
There is a bed in the middle that looks like it's never even been slept in and furniture beside it that is half bedside table and half bookshelf.
And that is literally all the furniture in the room.
It's a curiosity I always need to satisfy when it comes to Layla that has me walking towards her table and running my fingers along the spine of her books; cookbooks, Hemingway, and a few young adult novels so worn out she must have read them over a dozen times.
It's when I glance up to the top of the table that I see the only picture I know Layla to possess. One I have seen –one of the first things I knew Layla held dear.
A polaroid; wrinkled and slightly dirty of her exhausted mother holding her after giving birth.
It's this picture that makes me realize I am snooping into a part of Layla's life she hasn't granted me permission to know. So, with a heavy sigh I turn to leave, but instantly freeze in my tracks when I glance up at the wall across from her bed.
A sketch, slightly dirty from a footprint and a little wrinkled, of a girl on a hill with sad eyes and a sadder heart framed and hung up.
A sketch I drew of Layla that night I took her to my hill. The night I kissed her.
And suddenly, I don't feel so bad.
Quite the opposite, really.
"This isn't the bathroom, Harry."
I try not to let my giddiness show as I turn to face Layla, biting my grin back and trying to get the flush to fall from my cheeks.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to come in here, I just," I trail off, glancing back and forth from the sketch to her face and it doesn't take long for her to catch on, "You just... you kept this? You framed this?"
This time, Layla is the one that blushes, a deep red staining her cheeks and traveling to the tips of her ears. She doesn't meet my eyes and she shuffles on her feet awkwardly, only making me grin harder.
"Eliza and Niall left. Didn't say why –though I have a few guesses."
I ignore her blatant change of subject, "Layla."
I shouldn't push it and I know that, but I just want... need her to acknowledge that she feels something for me. Enough to get her to frame something I drew –the only piece of art hanging up in her house.
The only thing that is personal.
But, she doesn't. No, what she says next has the butterflies in my belly turning into bees.
"How's Jaime?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"You and Jaime," She clarifies, eyes hardening and arms crossing, "How are you guys doing?"
Her question throws me off guard because it's so off topic and because Layla never brings up Jaime willingly. Maybe she feels guilty about the kiss or maybe she is trying to remind me that I have –had- a girlfriend.
"We... We're fine. Good. We're good." The lie is thick on my tongue.
Her shoulders slump and she shakes her head slightly before her defeated posture turns into an angry one when she scoffs and glances back up at me.
"That's funny because Jaime came to see me at the hospital and she asked me how you were doing. Which I though was odd considering you two are dating, which is exactly what I told her and you wanna know what she told me?" Her voice is dripping with fake cluelessness and I can practically feel the color draining from my face, "She told me you two broke up."
She pauses, waits for me to say anything, but it feels like my tongue has swollen in my mouth and those bees have begun to die off.
Suddenly, the cold shoulder begins to make sense.
I have no idea what to say because I know I'm in the wrong. I kept it from her, though I was going to tell her eventually, when I thought it would matter.
I never thought she would find out, especially from Jaime.
"But, I thought that had to be impossible because you would have told me something that important, right?"
My whole body seems to slump at her cold tone and I fumble for something to say, "I-I'm sorry, Layla. I di-"
"I just don't get it Harry," She throws up her arms, feigned innocence wiped away as she runs shaky fingers through her hair in frustration, "I thought we were past this. I thought you learned from the first time you kept something from me.
"I didn't find out you were even dating her until she introduced herself to me and now she is the one to tell me you broke up? Why keep it a secret from me? I thought we were friends! I just... I don't understand why you wouldn't tell me... That-that hurts, Harry."
My hearts breaks when her voice cracks.
I rush towards her, placing my palms on her shoulders and trying not to rejoice when she doesn't flinch away, "I'm sorry, Layla. I am. It was stupid of me to lie about it, but I just didn't see the point in telling you. I thought it would just make you feel worse –even guiltier."
This time, she does pull away, and her expression morphs into one of confusion. Though, the scared look in her eyes makes it clear she knows what I'm getting at.
"Why would I feel guilty?" Her voice is cautious and when I don't answer, she grows more panicked, "Harry, why did you break up with Jaime?"
My heart has never beat this hard in my life and I have to swallow a few times before I am even able to speak again. I know what I say next will change things, but I can't hold it in any longer, the words have clawed up my throat and demand to be let out.
"You know why."
Her face falls and she takes in a shallow breath, her words sounding like a warning as she backs away, "Harry, don't."
And this makes me slightly angry.
She refuses to talk about any and every topic that matters, but expects me to? Wants me to bare my soul to her while hers is locked up tight? I've been patient and understanding, but there is only so much I can take.
I don't know how much longer I can live without her knowing that I'm in love with her.
"Why do you care so much Layla?"
The panic in her eyes grows, turning the jade into a forest green, "What?"
"Why is me breaking up with Jaime such a big deal to you? Why do you care so much about our relationship, really?"
Her eyes widen and I can see her chest rise and fall rapidly with every breath and I know that I am scaring her –that hinting at my feelings and insinuating hers is too much all at once, but I don't take it back.
I've fallen off the cliff and I don't know if I can climb back up.
"Tell me, Layla."
I take one step towards her and she swallows visibly, hands shaking at her sides, her voice coming out like a whimper, "Harry, please."
I don't know what she is asking me, but I don't listen. I can't.
Not this time.
I cup her face between my palms and she squeezes her eyes shut to avoid looking at me. My eyes trace her face, memorize the expression I never wanted to see, that I never wanted to cause.
Terrified. She looks terrified.
Maybe not of me, but what I can do to her. What feelings for me could do to her.
When I speak again my voice is desperate, begging.
"Please, Layla. Please just be honest with me... For once, just tell me how you feel. Please."
But, when I feel something wet trail my palm and look into her eyes to see them murky with pain and glistening with tears I know that I have pushed her too far. Asked too much of her too soon. She pulls away from me silently, wrapping her arms around herself, gaze never leaving the floor.
"I think you should go."
So, I do.
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DO NOT GIVE UP HOPE! THE NEXT FEW CHAPS ARE GONNA BE SO INTENSE HAVE TISSUES READY!
I saw Marina and I cried. A lot.
What did you think of the ending? Predictions? What has been your fave part so far?
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