Chapter 35 Layla
The Life Experiment: Daily Questionnaire
Property of OPM Discoveries
What are two things you are grateful for today?
Angus’s cooking. He brought me a box of cookies he’d baked yesterday that were AMAZING! And, speaking candidly, talent in the kitchen is quite attractive…
Maya sending me a photo of Jayden in his school uniform. He looks so grown-up, it hurt my heart (in a good way!)
What are you struggling with today?
I’m enjoying my job so much more, but it’s still a heavy workload
Do you have any additional notes on what you would like to discuss in your upcoming counselling session?
How I can support Angus. He’s worried about his dad – something I know a lot about! – but I want to make sure I’m saying the right things
‘Is something burning?’ Angus called out from the living room.
Dropping her phone mid-reply to Michelle, Layla glanced at the risotto simmering on the hob. Or the risotto that had been simmering a moment ago, at least. Now it was sticking to the pan.
‘Shit,’ Layla whispered. Scurrying to the cooker, panic set in. With Rhi at work and the apartment free, she’d convinced Angus to let her cook for him, but now Layla realised what an error that was. She didn’t have his culinary skills. In fact, she didn’t have any culinary skills.
Grabbing a wooden spoon, Layla tried to stir the rice, but it was no use. The bottom layer had cemented to the pan.
‘Is everything okay in there?’
Angus’s shout made Layla grimace. She’d ordered him to stretch out on the sofa with a glass of wine when he arrived at her apartment. Her aim had been relaxation. Hilarious, given that a few more minutes of Layla ignoring the stove could have resulted in a fire.
‘Everything’s fine,’ Layla replied, failing to disguise her stress.
Scraping the spoon harder, Layla tried to chip charred rice from the bottom of the pan. Chunks of risotto flew everywhere, splattering the kitchen tiles with dull, soggy blobs of rice.
‘Are we redecorating?’ came a chipper voice from the doorway.
Blushing, Layla faced Angus. ‘I swear I only turned away for a second.’
‘A second is all it takes,’ he replied, placing his hands on Layla’s hips and nudging her out of the way. His touch made her face flush, but Angus was distracted, laughing at the damaged dinner. ‘For someone so intelligent it’s like you’ve never seen a kitchen before, let alone cooked in one.’
‘Well, we can’t all attend cooking classes in Italy, can we?
’ Layla teased. She knew Angus had gone to Italy a few years ago, but she’d only learned about the cooking classes earlier that evening.
Layla hadn’t stopped joking about it since.
Cooking retreats in Italy sounded like something the Senior Partners at work did.
Incredible trips, and something Layla would love to do, but dreams like that had always seemed out of reach.
Lately, though, Layla had started wondering if that was true or if it was her self-doubt talking. After all, if two years was all she had left, why not splurge on cooking classes and bottles of wine and experiences that would make her heart sing?
Maybe you and Angus could go together , her brain suggested. Bristling, Layla ignored the thought before she became too attached to it.
‘It’s a good job I like my risotto crispy,’ Angus said, turning off the hob. ‘Do you have another pan?’
From the cupboard under the sink, Layla pulled out a pan that gleamed like new. ‘Before you say this looks like it’s never been used, let me remind you that takeaways are my best friend,’ she said as she handed it over.
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Angus replied, transferring the least burnt bits of risotto into the new pan. ‘I’m going to introduce cooking to your skillset, Cannon, just you wait.’
Giggling, Layla rested her head on Angus’s shoulder, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She inhaled his scent. Mint body wash combined with an aftershave that smelled expensive and clean, it matched Angus perfectly.
As Layla breathed Angus in, his hand caught her wrist. She lifted her head but remained close enough to see the flecks of brown in his blue eyes.
Angus’s thumb rubbed gently across her skin, causing goosebumps to cover every inch of Layla’s body.
Her heart thrummed at the base of her throat, telling her to stop before things progressed further, all the while begging her to lean in even closer.
But as Angus dragged his gaze to Layla’s parted lips, she finally came to her senses. ‘Well, whatever you do, be careful,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘We can’t ruin another pan. Not tonight, at least.’
Angus cleared his throat, blushing lightly. ‘Yes, chef.’
When he offered Layla a mock salute, she sighed internally. So much for her ‘just friends’ rule. Layla suspected her last session with Saira was to blame for making breaking it seem like a good idea.
In Saira’s office, with her heart in her mouth, Layla finally braved bringing up the possibility of lifestyle improvements changing her death date.
She’d been meaning to ask the question for the last few sessions, but her nerve always buckled at the last minute.
If she didn’t know the answer, Layla could cling to the hope that bettering her relationship with work might mean the next two years wouldn’t end in goodbye.
But as soon as she asked the question and got a definitive answer?
Well, there was every chance it could be game over.
‘Your results showed conclusive stress-related damage,’ Saira replied tactfully. ‘That’s not to say that with amendments things couldn’t be improved, but that would require another round of testing on top of significant lifestyle changes. Some of which I know you’re attempting to make.’
‘But are they enough?’ Layla pushed.
‘I can’t answer that, Layla. All I can say is that your result was accurate given the data we collated.’
‘But there’s a chance I could have changed things?’
The smile Saira gave Layla was laced with a sadness Layla couldn’t decipher. ‘Perhaps, but I can’t say either way.’
Layla understood the diplomacy of Saira’s response, but Layla had to believe there was hope. And standing in her kitchen, watching Angus salvage dinner, she was filled with so much hope she could float away.
Ten minutes later, Layla and Angus were sat at the dining table, eating the non-burnt bits of risotto.
‘Is it okay?’ Layla asked when Angus took his first bite.
‘Okay? I think you mean heavenly. You did well, Cannon.’
Grinning, Layla topped up their wine. ‘I’m glad you like it. I’ve got to say, even I’m impressed. Maybe I’ll be a chef one day too.’
‘I thought your future was in making the workplace better for everyone?’
‘That’s a bit dramatic,’ Layla replied with a giggle. ‘You’re making me sound like a superhero.’
Angus stopped with his fork suspended inches away from his mouth. ‘Wait, your name isn’t Super Layla?’
Layla cocked her eyebrow. ‘You think if I was a superhero, I’d be called Super Layla? That’s a lame name!’
Angus did his wide, unashamedly happy grin, Layla’s favourite smile of his. There was something about the way it transformed his entire face that made her heart sing. But then again, to Layla there was something special in all of Angus’s smiles.
‘What would your name be, then?’ he asked. ‘Corporate Woman? Suited Slicker?’
‘Suited Slicker sounds like a villain,’ she replied, chewing a mouthful of risotto. ‘Yours should be a cooking-based pun. You have too many skills in the kitchen for it not to be your superpower.’
‘Really? I was thinking more along the lines of being an all-round top guy. Something like Angus the Great.’
‘Angus the Great is boring!’ Layla cried, stifling another bout of laughter. ‘Why are you so terrible at creating superhero names?’
As Angus snorted, Layla’s stomach flipped. How good it felt to make someone laugh so freely, without inhibition. How good it felt to laugh like that too.
‘Forget cooking, then. Maybe yours should be work-related,’ Layla suggested. ‘Hit me with a techy nickname all the IT guys will love.’
Something about her comment froze Angus’s smile. Not for the first time, Layla wondered if Angus didn’t like his job. He wouldn’t be the only person to feel that way, and definitely not the only person who worked in IT.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t talk about work much, Layla thought. She wanted him to. She wanted to know who he sat next to, what happened in his meetings and what problems he’d solved that day, but Angus never seemed to share that side of himself.
Layla opened her mouth to ask if disliking his job was the reason for Angus’s quietness, but then he beamed. ‘Modem Man,’ he said. ‘That would be my superhero name. After all, who doesn’t love alliteration?’
‘Modem Man sounds like he would have useless powers.’
‘Oh, he would be a very boring, very useless superhero. Not on posters in anyone’s bedroom, that’s for sure. You, on the other hand, would be on a poster in mine.’
‘Did you mean for that to sound creepy?’ Layla teased, trying to hide her delighted blush as best she could. ‘Anyway, stop being so nice to me. I’m only trying to improve conditions at Mayweather & Halli-well. It’s hardly changing the world,’ she dismissed, but Angus shook his head.
‘Don’t diminish what you’re doing, Layla. It’s important. No one can change the entire world, but we can make our corner of it better. Not many people try to do that, but you are. It’s impressive.’
Layla chewed her dinner while mulling over Angus’s response. ‘I’ve never thought of it like that before.’
‘Well, maybe think about it like that from now on. Be proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.’
Layla beamed. She couldn’t help it. Sure, having a man compliment her looks was nice, but compliments about her brain? Her drive? Well, they meant the world. They meant that Angus really, truly saw her.
The truth was, Layla was proud of herself.
More than that, she was finally finding work interesting.
Michelle had taken Layla under her wing, and Layla could feel herself thriving there.
She was learning how to be a better lawyer and leader.
She was growing and evolving. Understanding when to ask questions, when to listen, and when to use her voice.
Things with the project were going well too.
Layla and Michelle had consulted with staff across Mayweather & Halliwell about their work–life balance and the changes they wanted to see.
That morning, they had booked their first meeting with the Senior Partners to discuss the feedback and their ideas.
‘Change is coming, Layla. I can feel it,’ Michelle said as they pressed send on the invite. Layla knew exactly what Michelle meant. She felt it every morning when she woke up. Getting out of bed had never been easier. Even commuting was less hellish.
‘I wish I was more like you, you know,’ Angus said after taking a sip of wine. ‘You’re amazing. You don’t wallow or wait or talk yourself out of things. You know your worth. You’re ambitious.’
Instinct made Layla wince. Life had been cruel in teaching her the lesson that being labelled ‘ambitious’ was usually anything but a compliment.
Years of working in a corporate field had shown Layla that she could work hard and aim high, yes, but be seen as ambitious?
Absolutely not. When describing her male colleagues, the word connoted drive and passion.
When describing her, it was an insult. An ambitious woman was ruthless and single-minded. She was hard. Unlikable. Difficult.
And there Angus was, putting that label on her. As if reading her mind, he cocked his head. ‘You don’t like being called ambitious?’
‘Not really,’ Layla admitted. ‘I know it’s what I am, but I don’t love the way it’s been used to describe me. It’s never been said with the most positive intention.’
‘Well,’ Angus began, his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass and throwing Layla’s thoughts to his hand on her wrist in the kitchen.
‘When I call you ambitious, I mean it as the highest compliment. I mean it to describe a hard-working, determined and intelligent person. Someone I want to know inside and out.’
‘You want to know me inside and out?’ Layla replied, doing her best to ignore the thumping of her heart in her ears.
Across the table, Angus held her gaze. ‘Absolutely.’
At that confession, something in Layla’s gut kicked. Tell him , it screamed. Tell him you’ll die in two years!
The idea of waiting until the end of the experiment to tell anyone, especially Angus, seemed impossible. Worse than that, it seemed wrong. Every moment they spent together felt precarious, like it was teetering on a tower of lies.
Layla looked across the table at Angus. ‘I…’ she began.
I’m dying.
I’m falling for you.
I’m dying.
I’m falling for you.
Both things were true. Both needed to be said. But dread tightened Layla’s throat. As Angus’s gaze flooded with desire, Layla made her choice. ‘I’ll get more wine,’ she said before rushing from the table.
In the kitchen, Layla leaned her forehead against the fridge and closed her eyes.
She tried to tell herself she hadn’t said anything about her impending death because telling Angus meant opening herself up to a potential lawsuit, but Layla knew the real reason for her silence.
Telling Angus meant losing him. And as ambitious and brave as she was, that was something Layla couldn’t risk.