Chapter Eleven
Leila
“Are you going somewhere, miss?” Luke asks as he eyes me up and down, clearly wondering why I am dressed in athleisure this early in the morning. I’m not much of an early riser.
“I’m going for a run,” I answer, my voice flat as I struggle to lace up my shoes. The only thing on my mind is to escape this house.
He said nothing in response, but I assume he gave a little nod since I wasn't looking.
I fix myself up and then burst out of the front door, glad I'm leaving behind the suffocating atmosphere in this house.
Once I start running, I hear footsteps trailing behind me. I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to him.
“What do you think you're doing?” I ask.
“Coming with you,” Luke answers, his tone casual like it's the most obvious thing ever.
“No, I really want to be alone.”
But he doesn’t move. He just stands there, determination shining in his eyes.
I'm going out for this run to clear my head. Speaking to Cassie the other day helped me put a lot of my thoughts and feelings into perspective. But it's like placing a band-aid on a gaping wound. I'm still far from properly processing it all.
Being under the same roof with my father doesn't help either. I’d locked myself in my room since getting back from Cassie’s place for fear of confronting him. Or, much worse, running into them again.
I'm not sure how I'll react to that. Even the thought of it makes me want to puke. I'd rather wait till Cassie gets here so we can face them together. At least then, I'll have a backup.
My dad has sent so many people to call me in the past forty-eight hours. He wants to talk, but I'm not ready to face him—at least not alone.
Luke was the first to come. But the moment he walked into my room and his eyes landed on my face, he knew there was no point speaking any further. He gently shut the door and walked out quietly.
I could barely sleep last night, twisting and turning until the crack of dawn. That is why I got up this morning and decided to go for a jog; I was tired of being cooped up in a place. I'm sick of everyone. I just need time away to breathe and be by myself.
I waited a couple more seconds for him to take the hint and head back, but he didn't budge.
“I don't need a babysitter, Luke. I can take care of myself,” I snap, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I immediately regret it.
Luke has done absolutely nothing to me. If anything, he's been there for me the whole time. There's no reason to be snapping at him. He's only doing his job anyway.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I can't leave you alone by yourself,” he responds, a bit of emotion creeping into his voice. It’s almost like he has more to say but can't. I wondered what that was about, but I let it go.
We start to run, a comfortable silence falling between us. But he made sure to keep a respectable distance between us, granting me the space I very much needed.
The feeling of the cool breeze hitting my face as the sun is about to rise does something for all that pent-up tension and anger inside me.
The sound of my feet as they hit the pavement is a welcoming distraction, and I lean into it.
A soothing feeling and calmness like I've not felt in a long time washes over me.
I wonder why I didn't try this much sooner.
We run and jog intermittently for about an hour before finally settling into a walk as we circle back home. My legs are burning from exhaustion, but that doesn’t matter. I don't mind it because, for the first time in months, I feel alive.
“You know, I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. You didn't deserve that. I was only—” I trail off, the words stuck in my throat as my eyes caught a gray SUV pulling into our driveway.
“I understand, Miss,” he says inaudibly, but I catch it.
I give him a small squeeze on the arm as a silent final apology. Then, I increased my pace to catch up with Cassie as her driver opened the car door for her.
I get to her just in time before she walks in the front door. “Hey sis,” I greeted while giving her a warm hug.
“Hey…” she answers back affectionately. “Now, where's everyone?”
We both head back inside the house with Luke trailing behind us.
“I don't know. I haven't seen any of them since I came back from yours.”
She paused to look at me for a split second and nodded in understanding, “I see.”
“Who do we have here?” my father’s voice echoes from the living room. He strides towards us, arms wide open as he envelopes Cassie in a tight hug.
It's been a minute since she last visited. He's definitely missed her. Before her pregnancy had got further along, they tried as much as possible to spend time together, trying to make up for lost time. They have grown pretty close.
“Look at my daughter. You look radiant,” he compliments while still holding onto her hand, his eyes filled with pride. “It's evident that your family is taking very good care of you,” he beams.
I shuffle my feet to assert my presence, and that gets his attention to me. “Leila, I haven't seen you in a minute,” he acknowledges.
“Come on in. I was about to have breakfast. I'll tell them to make a plate for you two, okay?”
We follow him to the dining area. The table is already set. He asks her about her family and the conversation goes back and forth between them while I remain quiet.
He glances over at me a few times and even tries to rope me into the conversation. I don’t oblige as my mind is racing with thoughts.
A couple minutes pass, and then a door creaks open, and Abigail, Cassie’s mom, joins the table. Immediately, an awkward silence falls on us. The tension in the room can be cut with a knife.
Reflexively, she moves to give my father a quick peck on the lips but catches herself just in time to think better of it and, instead, pulls out a seat to sit.
“Cassie, you came,” she tries to conjure excitement in her tone but fails. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Hey, Leila dear,” she acknowledges me. I mutter an inaudible greeting under my breath, and we all settle down to eat our food.
I focus on my plate, pushing the omelet around. My mind is churning with ways to address the elephant in the room, which everyone at this table has been delicately avoiding.
“Leila, you're not eating your food,” she comments. I look up and give her a death glare. I'm almost choking with the level of pretense at this table.
I put my cutlery down and look Father squarely in the face. “Why are you both acting like everything is okay?” My voice trembles slightly, betraying the calm I try to project.
Father and Abigail exchange a glance, and I can’t tell if it is guilt or confusion that clouds their faces. Dad clears his throat, and when he speaks, his tone is earnest, almost hesitant. “Well, we might as well talk about it now,” he begins. “Leila, I understand how you feel, and I…”
“No, you don’t,” Cassie interjects, her voice cutting through his words. “I don’t think you do, Dad. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have kept this from her. After everything that’s happened, how is she only finding out about this now?”
Abigail shifts uncomfortably, clearly unsettled by the rising tension at the table, as Cassie’s voice gains an edge.
“Cassie, believe me, we knew this would be difficult to bring up. I was just trying to find the right time.”
“But there is no right time, is there?” Cassie snaps.
The tension at the table simmers. The food before us is now forgotten and untouched. Abigail, Cassie’s mother, fiddles with her fork before finally speaking. “My dear, I think what your father is trying to say is that it was a difficult conversation to have.”
“I’m mad at you too, Mom,” Cassie says, her eyes narrowing as she turns to Abigail. “You didn’t even tell me?”
Dad intervenes. “Please, don’t be mad at her. It was my decision to keep it between us for the time being.”
He turns to me then, and I realize I’ve been silent, watching as Cassie speaks for me. “Leila, we’ve all been through a lot lately, and…”
His words blur, lost to me. Something in the way he speaks of shared burdens ignites a spark within me, like a dam about to burst.
“We all, Dad?” I ask, my voice tinged with a sarcasm that sharpens the tension, freezing the room into silence.
“I’m the one who’s been torn apart in the tabloids, Dad!” I slam my hand down on the table, the sound reverberating through the room. Father stares at me, his eyes heavy with guilt.
“I’m the one they say was rejected, the one who can’t find a mate! I’m the one who’s constantly hounded by the press!” I turn to Cassie, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I’m the one people accuse of conspiring to kill her sister!”
My words hang in the air, suffocating the space with their weight. The atmosphere is tense, stifling in its silence.
“And now, not only do I find out that you’re trying to marry me off to your friend, but you’re moving on, Dad. Mom did a terrible thing, and she’s in jail because of it, and rightly so. But it’s still a loss—a loss we share. And you’re moving on without me.”
I see the sorrow welling up in Dad’s eyes, the realization dawning as my words hit home.
“I’m so sorry, Leila,” he begins, but I avert my gaze, staring down at my untouched plate as he continues.
“I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, and those mistakes have hurt you, hurt all of you, so much.
Abigail, Cassie, I cannot express enough how deeply sorry I am.
How much pain and suffering you’ve endured because of me.
” He sighs deeply as though feeling the weight of what he says.
“I will do everything to make up for what you suffered because of me.”
He pauses, and then he speaks again, his voice softer. “Leila.” When I don’t respond, he pleads, “Leila, please look at me.”
I finally lift my eyes to meet his, and his remorse is unmistakable.
"I love you, Leila. More than words could ever say. My perfect little girl." His voice falters, thick with emotion, as tears glisten in his eyes. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I should have been there, closer, after your mother was taken away. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that alone."
He swallows hard. "With everything you’ve faced, everything you’ve endured, the press hounding you at every turn, I should have done more.
I should have shielded you from it all. But even now, through all of it, I’m proud of you.
So proud. The way you’ve handled everything and the way you’ve been there for Cassie, you’ve shown such strength, more than I could have imagined. "
His voice softens. "I hope you know, Leila, that I would never willingly hurt you. My saying that you should marry Ryan was only because I thought it would be best for you. But I won’t force anything on you. I only want your happiness, always. Please, would you forgive your old man?”
A tender, sober smile touches his lips, and despite everything, I’m moved by his sincerity. “I forgive you, Dad,” I say quietly.
“I’m sorry too,” Abigail says, her voice soft and almost timid. The vulnerability in her tone is palpable, and it draws my gaze to her. “We should never have kept us from you. From both of you. I hope you can forgive me, too.”
I nod, and a small, tentative smile forms on my lips. Abigail mirrors it, a quiet understanding passing between us. Across the table, I catch Cassie’s eye, and she smiles as well, the tension slowly melting away in the warmth of shared forgiveness.
Dad heaves a sigh of relief, “I never want to get silent treatment from you again. It's the worst. Can you believe we hadn’t spoken in days?” his eyes sweeping across the table.
“It’s just two days, Dad.” I inwardly roll my eyes. Everyone on the table chuckles, and just like that, the tension dissipates.
“Now that we’re all here, I feel like we should touch on Leila’s marriage situation. I understand this family is going through a very difficult time, but I don't think it's reason enough to make her marry anyone.” Cassie chips in.
My dad is listening aptly to what she's saying as he clears up the food on his plate.
Cassie continues, “She should be allowed to make her own decision. She's not a child anymore.”
“Um… I very much agree with you, but hear me out.” he starts.
“Okay…” I say, bracing myself.
“No pressure on you, Leila, but listen. I gave this a really good thought, and I think marrying Ryan wouldn't be a mistake.
I've known this man since I was little, and I can categorically tell you that he's a good man.
Yes, he's been away for a while, but people don't really change. You are who you are at your core.”
“I didn't want to sing his praises like this the other day because he was present.
I know you hate to hear me mention this, but you can even tell the kind of person he is by the way he treated his late wife.
The cherry on top is that he's super powerful.
The two of you will make magic as a duo.
And the list goes on. I don't even need to remind you of our plummeting social and financial status.
You're very aware of that. Now, I'm not saying you must do what I say, but just keep an open mind.
Don't write him off just yet. Do you think you can do that for me, Princess?
Defeated by his speech, I agree, “Yes, I can do that.”
Later that day as I was seeing Cassie off, we circle back to the topic, “Lei, I don't think Dad’s idea is so bad.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. I mean, nothing wrong with keeping your options open, right?” she shrugs.
“Actually, I think I'll give him a shot. With the unhealthy amount of attraction I have toward him, I don't even think I can help it.”
We both laugh, “That’s what I’m saying. I don't know him as much. I've only heard of him, but your dad made him look like the best man ever. And I'm pretty sure Dad will always look out for you. He’s not coming from a selfish place.”
I nod in agreement, “I know that, too. I guess I’ll just see where it goes with both of them.”
“I might not know about Ryan’s feelings towards you, but I know how much Henry likes you. Ares says that he doesn't shut up about you, and from what he says and from my observation, too, he's a good man.”
“I see that you and Dad have chosen your teams already.” I joked.
“Well, technically, you don't have to choose. You can take that from me.”
I laughed out loudly and nudged her playfully. I’m not even going to try thinking about that.
Just as we were about to bid our goodbyes, my phone rings. The caller ID shows Henry. I show the screen to her, and she nudges me to pick up. I do.
“Hello, Leila,” the sexiest voice wafts through the phone.
“Hi, Henry,” I answer back.
He pauses for a second before asking, “Do you think you might be free today at 7 p.m.? Let's grab dinner.”