Chapter Fifteen Layla
Chapter Fifteen
Layla
“Shiloh, sweetie, remember what we talked about, practicing gentle hands?” I softly pried a two-year-old from her classmate as she jammed a toy screwdriver into his ear, apparently on a quest to give him a medical checkup. “Why don’t you focus on Ms. Garcia’s new song?”
It was Spanish class for my kids at preschool, and most of the toddlers sat crisscross applesauce on the colorful ABC’s carpet, listening to the teacher singing a new song.
My new teacher assistant, Ashley, and I were present mainly to make sure nobody unintentionally killed themselves. Two-year-olds were exceptionally prone to accidents.
“Maya, sweetie, no, no. You cannot push a broken crayon up your nostril.” I stood up swiftly from the carpet, rushing over to another child.
The door to the classroom swung open behind me, but I paid no attention to it.
I picked Maya up, prying the tiny orange crayon from her left nostril.
She pouted, clearly unhappy that I’d interfered with her little experiment.
I gave her a wink and put her down next to Ms. Garcia so she’d be supervised, then gave her head a pat.
“We’ll do some coloring after yoga class.
Listen to the song. Your favorite color is about to be next. ”
Ms. Garcia was continuing to belt out “De Colores” loudly when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, surprised to see Kellianne standing in front of me.
She looked like she’d gone through all nine sections of Dante’s hell, and that wasn’t even being uncharitable.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her skin splotchy and lifeless.
She’d lost a lot of weight despite already being very slim, and her hair looked like it hadn’t seen a brush since 2000, even though I was pretty sure she wasn’t even alive at the time.
My initial instinct was to hug and comfort her, but then I remembered that our last exchange was less than friendly. I put a protective hand over my belly, stepping back instinctively. “Kellianne. How can I help you?”
“Layla.” She sniffed, looking around the class, like this was the first time she was registering where she was. “I asked management to come pick up the last of my belongings.”
“Oh.” I licked my lips. “Okay, do you need the key to your lock? I should have it in my—”
“Actually, I wanted to speak to you. Do you have a minute?”
“Now isn’t a good time,” I admitted.
Her face fell, her eyes stuck to the floor.
I hated that I felt bad for her and wanted to help her despite her cutting words.
At the end of the day, I did kind of ruin her wedding.
And if someone burst into my hypothetical wedding with Grant and told me he was the worst human on Earth, I’d have laughed in their face.
The difference was, I was sure there were telltale signs of Connor being a shithead way before I’d shed a light on this issue. He didn’t suffer from a bad trait or two. You needed to throw his entire personality into the trash and start from scratch.
But at the end of the day, being mad at her would be victim-blaming. She wasn’t at fault for the things her husband had done to me and other women.
“I understand.” She nodded briskly, then turned toward the door.
“Wait,” I said. She stopped, but she didn’t swivel to face me. I sighed.
“I have my lunch break in twenty minutes. Why don’t we meet at the park across the street? Grab lunch.”
“Okay. Yeah. Thank you.”
“I’ll text you when I’m there.”
“I’ll unblock your number so I can see it.”
Twenty minutes later, I walked to the gardens across from the day care.
It was a small round dog park, with benches facing a fountain.
The weather was nice, and I was carrying the lunch Grant had packed me this morning.
A crustless BLT sandwich with some reduced-sodium Pringles.
Since I limited myself to one Diet Coke a week, Grant had found me a replacement—a sugar-free, artificial sweetener–free root beer. He packed me one of those too.
Kellianne was slumped on a bench. She had a Birkin bag beside her and was holding an oil-stained cardboard box with a Whole Foods pizza inside it.
I looked at her, in her designer clothes, with her expensive bag, and felt so sorry for her. Sorry that the only things Connor could give her were materialistic. I’d choose a packed sandwich made from the heart over a twenty-K bag any day of the week.
“Thanks for seeing me.” Kellianne pulled a few tissues from her bag and dabbed her eyes.
I sat next to her, the Birkin serving as a buffer between us, and popped my lunch container open before taking a bite of my BLT. “Sure. Is everything okay?”
She shook her head as she stared down at her Miu Miu loafers. “No. You were right. And I wanted to come and tell you this in person because I was so horrible to you.”
My heart dropped. I took no pleasure in knowing I was right about Connor. This wasn’t about my ego. It never was.
“What happened?” I asked, cracking my drink open.
“It started at the wedding, after you left. Connor was agitated and upset. At one point he wanted to go after you. I had to stop him. He said it was defamation. That you were going to hear from his lawyers.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It amazed me that he’d somehow managed to out-prick his college self. I thought he’d peaked there. “I see he still uses the scare tactics of a one-dimensional villain.”
“Instead of trying to salvage the wedding, he seemed more interested in interrogating me about you. And he asked the most random questions. Like, if you were seeing anybody or if you were married.”
I thought about Grant. About how different he was from Connor. How proud I’d be to call him mine. For a moment, my heart ached with the desire to bump into Connor down the street, hand in hand with Grant, pushing a stroller with our baby.
Grant was the do-over. The correction. The opposite experience of Connor.
The exception.
The way we’d started was backward, but it didn’t change a thing.
He was still the one, and I was in love with him. Madly so.
I loved him for all the right reasons, not the wrong ones. Not because he was handsome or rich or popular. But because he was good and kind and genuinely worthy of everything he’d ever wanted.
And that was precisely why I would never ask him to stay in New York. He deserved to go to Minnesota. Pursue his dream. Advance his career. We would make it work as a couple. But I was never going to deny him something he wanted so badly.
“I’m sorry he ruined the evening further for you,” I heard myself tell Kellianne, who smiled miserably, playing with the edges of her pizza box.
“We went on our honeymoon to Maui. The weather was miserable, and I had period cramps the entire time. He chided me for getting my period—like it was my fault—and told me if he’d known, he would have booked us something in a big city so we could sightsee.
We had blowout after blowout. I’m normally super nonconfrontational, but it was basically impossible to escape these fights.
He actively looked for them. Since I was on my period, I was bloated, and he put me down during dinner when I went for a small dessert, saying I was already letting myself go.
On the flight back home, he said I looked like a homeless person because my hair wasn’t blow-dried and curled.
I don’t know . . . It reminded me of all the things you said at the wedding.
Everything clicked all of a sudden, and I realized that he was putting me down too.
All the time. I’d just tried to ignore it.
“He strong-armed me into quitting the preschool job. Said that it’d be a bad look if I stayed there.
That he’d feel humiliated because it’d look like I’d chosen you, in a way.
But I knew he just didn’t want you and me to spend time together, worried you’d influence me.
It was another part of me that he’d claimed without my giving it to him.
Connor convinced me not to look for another job.
He said he was making enough money as a banker.
Plus, it was only a matter of time before I got pregnant; then I’d have to stay home to take care of the baby, anyway. ”
I sighed. “I’m so sorry he stayed stuck in 1839. Trust me when I tell you that I tried pulling him into the present-day world when we were together.”
Kellianne offered me a weak smile.
“I was so miserable just sitting at home all day. My entire family is out of state. Besides, I loved working with children. And Connor got back home later and later every night. Until . . . God, I know I sound like a total cliché.” She rubbed her eye sockets with her fingers.
“I found out he was cheating on me in the most humiliating way.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t as humiliating as catching him fucking your third-rank best friend at your own birthday party they were sure you wouldn’t attend,” I murmured.
Kellianne made a horrified face. “I take it back. The second most humiliating way. One evening he sat me down, and he was all brooding and annoyed and whatnot. I thought to myself, ‘What have I done to piss him off now?’ And get this. He said I needed to be tested for an STI because he’d tested positive.
I asked how, and he gave me an ‘Are you stupid?’ look.
And that’s how he casually broke it to me that he never intended to be faithful to me.
The deal was that I bring my good looks and young age to the table and cater to his every whim—and he’ll provide for me. ”
I choked on the last bite of my sandwich. “No deal, asshole.”
“Right?” Kellianne’s cheeks flushed, and she sat a little straighter, dejection making way to anger.
Attagirl. “That STI talk was two weeks ago. I went to a Planned Parenthood clinic to get tested, and it’s been more than ten days.
They said they’d only call if the test came back positive, so I think I’m in the clear. ”
I still couldn’t get over how shitty Connor was as a human. How had we not collectively expelled him from our species by now?
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
Kellianne smiled bitterly. “A hostel on Times Square. I literally have Birkins in my suitcase, and I have to use communal bathrooms.” She barked out a laugh.
“But it’s all good. I’m flying back to Texas to stay with my parents tomorrow.
My mom already made my bed and the string bean casserole I’m obsessed with.
I just really had to see you before I left. ”
“You did?” I closed my empty lunch container and tucked it back into my bag.
She nodded. “I sent you the angry email not just because my wedding was ruined and I felt sorry for myself, but also because you forced me to see my relationship for what it really was. I apologize for the way I handled this. I understand all you wanted was to protect me.”
“Apology accepted.” I reached to squeeze her hand. “I’m so happy you’re making a run for it before it’s too late. I hope he didn’t break your spirit or make you swear off men in general. There are some good ones still out there.”
“Hard to believe right now, but thank you for the encouraging words.” Kellianne smiled. “Did you find your one at the end?”
“Yeah,” I said. No hesitation. “I did, and he was worth the wait.”