19. Leila
19
LEILA
The last few days have been idyllic.
I never believed I would have Kyle back in my life. When he ended things, life as I’d known it to that point was over, and it took me time to find my new normal. Yet here he is. And I’m loving it. Still, I can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.
He promised he wouldn’t leave me again, and I know Kyle’s a man of his word. There’s a tiny piece of me, though, that can’t rest easy. Each night I lay in his arms, sated from our love making, I fight the demons that threaten to steal my joy.
I’m savoring every moment with him, greedily squirreling new memories away, and enjoying the hell out of our time together. We’ve had the guys, Sheri, and her boys over for a barbecue to break the news to everyone at the same time.
That was stressful. I didn’t know what to expect. Especially from Sheri. She saw what it did to me when Kyle left, and I thought she’d give me shit for opening myself back up to that. But, in true Sheri fashion, she surprised me.
“It’s about time you got your head out of your ass, big guy. Glad you finally figured your shit out,” was all she said. But a little while later, when we were making the salads together in the kitchen, away from the others, she wrapped me up tight in a hug. “I’m thrilled for you, my sweet friend. You deserve to be happy, and I know he’s your happy.”
Interest peaked when, almost involuntarily, her eyes searched the room, and I noticed where they stopped. My heart clenched at the sad expression that barely flitted across her face before she locked it down. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, I averted my gaze before she realized I’d seen.
Now, I’m scrambling to find something to wear. Today’s my first day back at the office since the hijacking and, for some weird reason, I’m nervous. Nothing I try on seems right, and I’m quietly freaking out. I have zero idea why though.
Phillip sent the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers and has been in touch a couple of times to see how I’m doing. Other than that, he’s let me be. He’s not pressured me to return to the office, telling me to take all the time I need.
I can’t stay home forever. I have to get back to the land of the living but, for the first time in my life, I’m scared to leave my apartment. Kyle says it’s PTSD, that the fear is due to the trauma of the hijacking. Whatever it is, I know I have to nip it in the bud, deal with it before it gets worse.
“Sweetness?” I jolt as Kyle breaks the silence.
“Yeah?”
“You okay? You’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror for a solid five minutes. I’m not even sure you’ve blinked.”
“Nothing looks right,” I wail, sounding like a two-year-old who’s had their favorite toy taken away.
It’s only when I see his shoulders relax at my words that I realize he was tense. Frowning, I walk over to where he’s standing just inside the bedroom door.
“Are you okay? You seem a little tense.”
At first, I don’t think he’s going to answer me, but then he rocks me back on my heels.
“Stupid, I know, but I thought you were maybe having second thoughts.”
“Second thoughts about going back to work? Yeah, I guess. I mean, you know it’s been a struggle for me lately to leave the house.”
He nods. “Yeah, I know, but that’s not what I meant.” I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I thought you were having second thoughts about us .”
“What? Why? Why would you think that?” Suddenly, I’m not feeling quite so secure in our renewed connection. “Wait, is it because you are?”
“Oh God, sweetness, no. I’m sorry,” he says as he scrubs a hand roughly over his face. “I’m fucking this up.” Kyle takes a deep breath. “I guess I’m just feeling a little insecure. It’s no reflection on you, I swear.
“This is all on me. I fucked up so badly last time, that I have moments when I can’t believe you’ve actually given me this second chance. And I’m terrified I’m going to do something stupid and mess it all up again.”
Going over to where he’s standing, I wrap my arms around his waist. “No, baby. We’re good. I’m sorry if anything I do or say gives you pause to think otherwise. I’m just all up in my head, knowing I have to leave the safety of my apartment.
“It feels like the outside world is a scary place right now.” Sighing, I rest my head against his chest; the sound of his heart beating rhythmically soothes me. “I’ve been giving your advice a lot of thought, and I’m going to do it. I’ll go see the therapist you recommended.”
“Yeah? That’s good, sweetness.” He hugs me close for a moment. “I hate that we have to go out, but it’s almost time to hit the road.”
“What am I going to wear?” I whine.
“Whatever you pick will look gorgeous. You always do.”
“Sweet, but not helpful, baby.”
Kyle laughs. Striding over to where I’m digging through the mess I’ve created on the bed, he sifts through the items. Obviously finding what he was looking for, he holds up a blouse and pants for my perusal. “How about these? Try them on and let me see.”
I do as he says, and when I’m dressed, he nods. “Yeah, that.”
I give myself the once-over in the mirror and have to agree with his selection. He always was good at this.
“I like it.” I go up on tiptoes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You ready to go now?” Looking at the pile of clothes I chucked on my bed in my search of a work outfit, he says, “We can clean this up later.”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go.”
The drive to work is a quiet one. The moment my front door closed behind me, all conversation dried up. It’s all I can do to hold onto my composure and not run screaming back to the safety of my apartment.
Despite my protestations, Kyle insists on seeing me up to my office. Once I’m settled — well, as much as I can settle while coming out of my skin — he gives me the sweetest kiss before leaving. It takes everything in me not to chase after him and beg him not to leave me there.
Thankfully, it isn’t too long after that Phillip arrives. He gives me a warm smile when he spots me sitting at my desk.
“Leila, it’s good to have you back. We’ve missed you around here.”
“Good morning, Phillip. It’s good to be back,” I lie.
After a couple of minutes of idle chitchat, Phillip gets down to business.
“I’m expecting Edgar at eleven thirty to go over some figures I’m not one hundred percent happy with. Can you please arrange lunch from our little deli, since we’ll probably work through?”
“No problem. Is there anything else I need to be aware of? Anything else you need?”
“Yeah. Grab your notebook and coffee,” he says, walking toward his office.
I do just that, then follow him into his office. Phillip wastes no time in getting me caught up and giving me a list of things that need to be done. With zero effort, I fall back into the routine and am spared any time to dwell on my fears.
I’m still busy placing the lunch order Phillip requested when Edgar enters my office, a sour look on his face. I don’t know who pissed in his porridge, but I paste a fake smile on my face and greet him. The hair on the back of my neck is standing up, and I’m not liking the vibe I’m getting off the man.
“Morning Edgar. Phillip says to go on back,” I say, despite my discomfort.
Apparently not suffering the same problem, he barely nods, not returning my greeting. He simply walks past me on his way to Phillip’s office.
“Well, fuck you too,” I mutter under my breath. Yeah, real mature, Leila. But dammit, the man is giving me the itchy-scratchies this morning.
I mean, sure, he’s never been my favorite, always giving off a weird kind of energy, but today seems a little different.
“Um — hello?” Oh shit. I completely forgot I had the deli on the line.
“Sorry, Maggie. Where were we? Oh, right.” I finish placing the order and hang up.
Blowing out a breath, I grab my purse and dash off to the bathroom. As I push through the door, I’m assailed with memories of doing the same thing on the ship — right before everything went to hell in a handbasket. I freeze, unable to cross the threshold.
I catch myself straining to listen for any noise that would indicate something’s wrong. All I can hear are the normal sounds of a working office building. People moving about the open-plan office space, walking the hallway, phones ringing.
Through sheer force of will, I finally unglue my feet from the floor and enter the bathroom. Taking care of business as quickly as I can, I race from the room as if the hounds of hell itself are snapping at my heels. Breathing out an enormous sigh of relief to find myself back in the relative safety of my office, it takes me a minute to become aware of the raised voices coming from Phillip’s office.
They’re muted since his door is closed, and I can’t make out a word that’s being said. It’s clear, however, that the two men are not happy. I’m shifting from foot to foot, undecided whether I should intervene, when one of them starts yelling. A little more distinct now, I think it’s Edgar. Before I can move — whether toward the fighting or away will forever remain a mystery — the interleading door separating Phillip’s office from mine flies open.
“Move,” I hear Edgar yell.
I hold my breath, waiting to see what happens next. And what happens makes me wish I’d stayed home this morning.