Hamdan
The t-shirt is sticking to my back, I breathe out sharply through the mouth as my heart beats hard on my chest. Taking the towel, I dry the sweat on my face and brace myself for one last sprint on the treadmill. I turn the speed up and my pace increases to the maximum I can manage, focusing on my breathing alone.
Suddenly, a hand slams hard on the emergency stop button and I have to hold with both hands to the side handles to keep myself from falling on my face.
"Hey!" I yell and regret it immediately.
It's Layla and she's mad as hell at me, I can tell. I figured something like this might happen but I never thought she would show up at my gym with all my friends here to witness.
"Where have you been all day long?" She barks at me.
I take a deep breath, dry some more sweat with my sleeve and take a look around; one by one the guys are stopping their workouts and going downstairs. Uncle Saeed is the only one staying put with confusion all over his face.
Waiting for all of them to leave, I take the chance to take a good look at her because much to my dismay, she looks stunning in a white skirt with vertical, black stripes; an ivory blouse with long sleeves and a red belt that cinches her waist. She has pointy black shoes on with impossibly thin heels and her hair is half way up, I like that way because I get to see more of her face. All of her contrasting with the gym filled with sweaty men.
"Hamdan?" She insists.
"I-- uh... I was working."
"You were working?" She grimaces. "We had an agreement! You were supposed to be there!" Her arms fly around as she speaks. "I called, I texted you all day long and nothing!"
"Wait." Uncle Saeed interjects. "What was happening today?"
"The launch! Of my project!" She replies to him and turns to me again. "You didn't even tell uncle about it?"
"I had no idea." Uncle Saeed affirms.
She narrows her eyes at me. "Why?"
"I didn't think it was a big deal!" I shrug, stepping down from the treadmill. "It wasn't even your idea to invite me, I assumed you didn't care as much."
"But you said you were going to be there!" She counters. "I sent you the date, the time and everything!"
"I had other stuff to do!" I lie.
"Seriously, Hamdan? Do you think I'm stupid or why are you giving some of the stupidest answers ever?"
The heat climbing up in my body is not from running. "You cannot talk to me like that." I warn, pointing my finger at her.
"Sure I can!" She dares. "You're just not used to people telling you the truth when you're being an ass!"
My chest inflates as I inhale to speak whatever words are about to leave my mouth, I don't even know what they are. But Uncle Saeed comes between us and extends his arms to push us away from each other.
"Enough!" He yells at us. He looks at Layla and then at me; his eyebrows pushed together and his jaw clenched. "Did we just travel back in time?" He asks. "Because I know I have seen this before... when you were both teenagers!"
I drop my shoulders and look down at the floor.
"Whatever is going on," uncle carries on, "you are going to fix it like what you are: two adults."
I puff and lift my head to find Layla facing away from us and looking out to the soccer field.
"You always do this, Hamdan." She says in a soft voice and turns around slowly. "You change your mind or something happens and I don't hear anything from you." Her eyes turn glossy. "And I'm left hanging every time." Her lower lip trembles and she runs to the stairs, her heels clicking as she goes down the steps.
"What happened?" Uncle Saeed asks. "Why didn't we go to the launch?"
I throw my towel to the floor, spin around and kick a wandering soccer ball to the wall as hard as I can.
"I think you need to apologize." My uncle advises.
What am I supposed to say?
It doesn't matter.
I start running and as I'm going down the stairs I see her getting in her car through the glass wall. I jump the last few steps and sprint to the door.
"Come on!" I grunt as the automatic doors don't open fast enough.
The car starts moving and I barely make it to her window.
"Layla, stop!" I yell.
I startle her and the car comes to a full stop. Her finger lands on a button on the door and the window rolls down.
"I'm sorry." I pant.
She's wearing sunglasses and her expression is very hard to read.
"Please, I really am sorry." I repeat.
We stay there frozen for a moment, all I can see is my own reflection in her shades.
"This was important to me, you know?" She looks down to her lap and then back up to me. "Have a great weekend, Hamdan."
The car speeds up and I have to take a step back before she runs over me.
I screwed up. Again. And yes, uncle is right; this is ridiculous.
Once her car is out of sight, I walk back to steps before the main door and sit on them, resting my arms on the knees.
Every time I get close to Layla it feels dangerous and every time I distance myself I hurt her. All of it is going to repeat itself unless we come clear about what happened and I need to own up to my mistakes, but I'm not sure how to do it without it ending in a big fight. Tension has been building up all these years, it never went away and I'm afraid it might be so much that we won't be able to be in each other's lives again.
---
"Is this the place?" Saeed Hilal asks.
I check the address my mother gave me. "Yep. Seems like it. Park over there."
Saeed stops the car on the driveway and I notice her garage door is open.
"I think she's home." Saeed points out, looking at Layla's car in the garage.
Yesterday didn't feel like a good idea to insist on talking to her, so I waited until this morning. If I'm lucky she won't be as angry anymore.
I open my door. "Wait here."
Adjusting my cap, I walk fastly with my head down and hands in the pockets of my sweatpants. Once in the garage, I relax and head towards the door that leads inside the home and take my phone out.
Hamdan
Layla, are you home?
I try again, after an endless list of unanswered messages and knock on the door.
Hamdan
I'm at your door, please let me in.
I wait for a couple of minutes and nothing. Slowly, I try to turn the knob on the door and it opens up. I peek inside and there's nothing but silence and a soft vanilla scent in the air. I call her on the phone and soon I hear a phone ringing in the distance. She must be here but she's not answering and I don't dare to set a foot inside, I'm afraid she might rip my head off.
I take two steps back and start texting Maktoum.
Hamdan
Hey, would you mind calling Layla and tell me if she picks up?
Maktoum
Are you wondering why she isn't taking your calls after you went missing all day yesterday?
Hamdan
Man, just do it. Please.
Maktoum
Hold on.
Again I hear the ringing in the distance and then my phone buzzes.
Maktoum
No, she's not answering. Yesterday we had a celebratory dinner with the team and she left early, said she wasn't feeling well.
Now I'm wondering if that's true. I go back to the door and peek inside again.
"Hello? Layla?" I call. "Are you home?"
Silence.
I take a deep breath and step inside, closing the door behind me.
"Hello?" I repeat from the kitchen.
Nothing seems out of place, the entire home looks like it's ready for a magazine photoshoot and the beach and ocean views make me want to live by the sea. I continue walking to the living room area, I'm now by the main door and call her name again.
"Layla?"
"Hamdan?"
Finally.
"Yes, it's me!"
"What on earth are you doing here?! How did you get in?" She asks from upstairs.
"You were not answering your phone and your garage door was open." I explain. "Can you come downstairs so we can talk?"
"What? No! Go away!"
I move to the bottom of the stairs. "Come on, I'm already here and I don't want to keep yelling!"
There's silence again until she shows up at the top of the stairs in a robe and with messy hair.
"Leave, Hamdan!"
"Are you okay? Maktoum said you didn't feel good last night."
She puffs. "I'm totally fi--" Her palm goes up to clasp her mouth and she runs back to where she came from.
I take the stairs two steps at the time and follow the sounds of Layla throwing up all the way to the bathroom in the master bedroom. I find her kneeling down by the toilet and rush to hold her hair up with my hands.
"It's okay." I comfort her, because I know she hates throwing up and always cries afterwards.
She flushes down the toilet with a weak hand, sets her arm over the lid and lets her forehead rest on it to cry.
"I hate this..." She sobs.
"I know." I let her hair down and squat down to stroke her back with my palm. "Come on, I'll help you up."
I hold her by the elbows as she incorporates and then one of my hands moves to her waist to help her stumbling body to the sink.
"You're very weak. How many times have you thrown up?"
She lets the water run. "I have no idea, I couldn't sleep at all last night."
I touch her forehead, she doesn't seem to have a fever.
"It was something I ate." She adds, while putting the toothbrush in her mouth.
I wait by her side until she looks up at the round mirror in front of her.
"Ugh... I look like crap." She complains.
I guide her back to her bed and she plops on the mattress.
"You need to leave, Hamdan."
I lift her legs up to put them under the covers. "I'm not leaving you like this."
"Yes. I'll die here..." She mumbles. "Alone."
I bring the covers to her shoulders. "You're not dying and I'm not leaving. Do you have any juice?"
Her eyes are closed. "I have no idea."
"Okay, I'll be right back."
I spin around to go downstairs and take my phone out to call Saeed.
"Yes, sir?" He answers.
"You can leave. I'm staying."
"Okay, sir."
"Thank you, Saeed."
I hang up and open both doors of the fridge. There I find several small juice bottles, orange and apple. I guess apple will be better. Taking two of the bottles, I ran back upstairs. Layla is asleep but I think she needs to at least drink something to keep herself hydrated. I sit next to her and try to gently wake her up.
"Layla... I brought you some juice. Come on, sit up for a bit."
She sits up with eyes still closed and I help her take a few sips until she shakes her head from side to side.
"You're good?" I ask.
She nods and goes back to lay down. I bring the covers up to her shoulder again and take the hair away from her face. I remain in place and contemplate her; she doesn't look like crap like she said, not even when she's sick. I can't believe how we became almost like strangers after being so close for so long. For the past few years, who took care of her when she was sick? It bothers me not to know. It bothers me even more not to be that person. I don't want to be out of her life anymore. I want us to be friends, I want to hold her, I want to kiss her again the same way I did on that magical summer night in London.
---
Are there any Friends fans here?
I'm a huuuuuge fan of the show and thought about this scene with that last line from the chapter, lol!
I hope you enjoyed this update!
XOXO,
Sophie.