Ch. 8 – Layla
T oday is going to be a beautiful day because…
No answer formed in Layla’s mind as she stared up at the ceiling. Morning sunshine spilled through the windows. Her alarm had chirped an hour and a half ago, but she still lay in bed, her eyes sore and swollen from a night of quiet weeping.
Slowly, Layla turned onto her side and studied Cal, who slept soundly next to her. She knew his face so well she could close her eyes and paint it in her mind. He wasn’t classically handsome. His nose jutted long and sharp from his face. His eyes stood a little too close together. His chin didn’t have the heft of a movie star, something he’d always felt self-conscious about. And yet, for all its faults, that sleeping face was as dear to Layla as her own heart.
She reached out and traced the heavy swoop of his brows.
So many people scoffed at the idea of love at first sight, but Layla knew it was real. She’d felt it all those years ago on the first day of freshman year. She’d turned from her locker after third period—English with Mr. Kolinsky—just in time to see the wave of kids part as Cal strutted down the hallway.
He’d been confident even back then. So comfortable in his own skin. The other kids understood this intuitively and orbited around him like the moons of a planet. Layla remembered how his brown eyes had swept the hallway that day, alight with curiosity and hunger. They’d paused on her. Settled. Then he’d winked at her as he’d passed.
That had been it. The spark. The fire. The absolute certainty in her heart. He was the missing prince in her childhood drawings. The face above the tux in the nascent wedding binder tucked under her bed.
It didn’t take Layla long to learn his name. Calvin Bishop Junior. Everyone knew him. He was a junior and the second-string running back on their forgettable football team. He was on again off again with Hannah Mason. Had been since last year.
That last bit of info hadn’t stopped her. Not with true love on the line.
He was a football player? Layla joined the cheerleading squad.
He took Spanish for second period? Layla changed her schedule.
She hadn’t had the social cred to sit at his table at lunch, but she made friends with the drama kids and sat at the next table over, always positioning herself so that she and Cal faced each other across two rows of other students. Every once in a while, he’d look up, catch her eyes, and wink. She’d smile, look down at her free lunch, and wait until she got home that night to swoon into her pillow.
Do you know how hard I fought for you? Layla asked him now as her fingers traveled down Cal’s rough jaw. Do you know how patient I was?
She hadn’t owned a phone, but her friends let her borrow theirs, and she’d started an Instagram account. From there, she’d devised a meticulous campaign, following two or three of his friends each week, slowly working her way into his inner circle until, six months later, it seemed only natural that she follow him. It took him exactly eight days, but when she’d gotten the notification that he followed her back, she’d squealed and danced for hours in her shared bedroom until Alanna had threatened to set her pompoms on fire unless she stopped.
And then came the day she’d been waiting for.
On September 30th of her sophomore year, in chemistry with Ms. Laughlin to be exact, she’d heard the news that Cal and Hannah Mason were off again. That evening, he’d smiled at her from the football field where he now played on the starting roster.
Layla had cheered extra loud. Jumped, twirled, and spun with all her might. The Yucca Hills Bobcats had snagged a rare win that night. She hadn’t been surprised. Fate was at work.
She also hadn’t been surprised when Cal had invited her out with his friends after the victory. This was her meet cute. The beginning of a perfect fairytale.
The other girls on the cheerleading squad had warned her not to get involved. That she was just Cal’s flavor of the month until he got back together with Hannah.
But I knew, Layla thought now. She traced Cal’s lower lip. And she’d been right. Cal never went back to Hannah.
We’re meant to be together. She’d thought those words when he’d grabbed a chair next to hers at Pie in the Sky after the game. Senior football players and cheerleaders had filled their table, fighting over huge slices of pizza dripping in cheese. Some of the girls had given her, a lowly sophomore, side eye, but Layla had hardly noticed. To her, only she and Cal had existed at that table.
We’re meant to be together. She’d repeated those words a year later when Cal had asked for sex. Begged for it. Told her she was so gorgeous he was losing his mind. Layla had always meant to wait for marriage, but she’d known she would marry Cal. So, it really wasn’t breaking her promise to herself, right? It’d been his birthday, anyway, and when she’d acquiesced, Cal had called it the best gift he’d ever received.
I gave you my body, my heart, my everything, she thought now as she traced Cal’s chin.
“We’re meant to be together!” Layla had wept those words, almost choking on them when Cal had broken up with her the day after his college graduation. He was taking a gap year, he’d informed her, before starting at his father’s dealership. He wanted to backpack across Europe. Find himself. Be free of encumbrances.
Encumbrances. The exact word he’d used.
Layla dropped her hand from Cal’s face and shuddered. The weeks and months after the breakup had been the darkest of her life. She’d felt alone. Broken. Like a delicate rose caught in a churning river, smashed against the rocks.
But, she’d done her best to move forward, earning her associate's degree and—with the encouragement of Dr. Goldman—entering a veterinary technician training program. Cal returned and started at the dealership. She heard he was seeing a waitress at Valentina’s Cantina.
A year later, she’d seen him in the crowd at the annual YHAR fundraiser. Layla curled in on herself, her knees nearly up to her chin. Her lips quirked in a tight, sour smile at the memory. Cal had pursued her all night, slowly circling her like a hungry shark. She’d been desperate to avoid him, weaving into the crowd whenever he came near and grabbing at a succession of wine flutes to calm her nerves.
At last, the event had ended. She’d stayed behind to help break down, hiccupping and dizzy from the alcohol. Cal hadn’t left, though. Layla had been shocked to find him in the parking lot leaning casually against her car looking so handsome in his tailored suit. He’d waited almost two hours for her.
So, how could she say no when he invited her to—of all places—Pie in the Sky to catch up?
Did you remember that was our first unofficial date or was it just a coincidence? She thought as she studied her fiancé’s sleeping face. At the time, she hadn’t even questioned it. Fate, again, was intervening, bringing them back together. After all, didn’t every good romance story feature a heart-rending breakup before both characters realized they were meant for each other?
He’d brought them beers with their pizza and ordered two more rounds as they recounted old stories from high school and college. Cal had been so charming. So warm and attentive. He wanted to hear about her life. He asked about her mother and sister. He seemed thrilled about her veterinary training. He never mentioned the European backpack trip.
They’d closed down the pizza parlor, and he’d offered to drive her home.
Except he’d brought her to his apartment complex instead.
Layla rolled onto her back in bed and fixated on the ceiling again. She could still feel the air conditioning of Cal’s car, cranked too high, blowing goosebumps on her skin as she stared at the apartment building, slowly realizing what he wanted. She could feel the rush of the alcohol eating through her defenses. Could still hear the love-soaked country song booming through the radio.
I should have been furious, she thought as she studied the ceiling fan’s bronze finish. I should have demanded that you drive me home.
But Cal had taken her hand and confessed that breaking up with her had been the biggest mistake of his life.
“We’re meant to be together,” he’d said.
Layla closed her eyes. Felt hot tears swimming beneath her lids.
She never knew what happened with the waitress at Valentina’s Cantina. She’d never asked.
Six months later, he’d put a ring on her finger, and she’d dropped out of the veterinary technician program. It was too far away from Yucca Hills, Cal had told her. It was taking up too much of her time. He missed her. Wanted her at home. Plus, she didn’t even need to work.
I’ll always take care of you, Rapunzel, he’d told her.
Layla turned onto her other side to face the window. Why had she given in to every one of Cal’s demands? Crumbled in the face of his insistence? Why could she never, not even once, stand up to him?
Layla sniffled. Dr. Goldman had been so supportive of her goal to become a veterinary technician. He’d cut her hours and helped her study during slower periods at the clinic. He’d been so disappointed when she’d dropped out of the program.
Slowly, achingly, Layla pulled herself out of bed. Her head throbbed. She dragged herself to her vanity and slumped in the chair. In the mirror, she stared at her swollen, red-rimmed eyes, pale face, and flakey lips. She brushed her hair, losing count halfway through her normal hundred strokes. Quickly, she braided the plaits together and dabbed on a layer of tinted BB cream.
By the time Cal groaned awake to his alarm, Layla stood in the kitchen, whisking melted butter into the hollandaise sauce as it heated over a pan of simmering water. While Cal showered, she poached the eggs, sliding them one by one into the simmering water of the saucepan and carefully scooping them out at just the right time.
When Cal, his hair still damp, dropped onto a stool at the granite breakfast bar and started scrolling through his phone, Layla nudged a plate between his elbows. He glanced away from his phone and smiled at the offering of eggs benedict surrounded by thick slices of Canadian bacon and a toasted English muffin already coated in butter and strawberry jam.
“My favorite. What did I do to deserve this?” he asked.
Layla didn’t answer. She couldn’t look at him.
“I know,” he chuckled. “It’s the last week of the quarter. You really want that jet ski, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’m going to get my bonus. We’re just three cars away from hitting our numbers. We’re going to make it.”
She’d never cared about the jet ski. Actually, she was more than a little terrified at the thought of riding one. Not that she’d told Cal. He’d been obsessing over the new water toy ever since one of his golfing buddies got one. He’d spent multiple evenings researching them, even taking her down to a dealership in San Diego.
“Babe?” His voice snapped her to attention. “Fork?”
“Oh.” She went to the drawer, pulled out a fork, and set it down next to him.
“You’re the best.” His smile slipped away, turning into a frown as he finally studied her. “Everything okay? You look…tired.”
“Are you cheating on me?” The words burst from her mouth. Layla hadn’t planned on confronting him so soon. At least not over breakfast. She needed more time to think. More time to come up with the right words. To calm herself.
But her heart couldn’t wait.
“What?” Cal’s mouth dropped open, giving her a perfect view of mashed eggs and muffin.
“With Breanna?” Layla clarified. She stood on the other side of the kitchen island directly across from him. “Are you cheating on me with Breanna?”
“How could you…” he sputtered.
“Someone saw you,” she cut him off. “Kissing her.”
Layla put her palms on the cool granite countertop and waited. Some tiny flame of hope still danced in her chest. Maybe it was all some sort of mistake. Maybe Cal had been consoling Breanna. Maybe he’d accidentally fallen onto her mouth. Maybe Breanna was a crazy stalker right out of Swim Fan, and he was kissing her only because she’d threatened to murder everyone he held dear.
“Shit.” Cal dropped his elbows onto the island. “Shit. Look.” He stopped. Gathered his thoughts.
Layla knew.
Tears filled her eyes. It was incredible, really, that she still had any left. Surely, she’d already cried all the tears a body could possibly make over the long, sleepless night. And yet, here were more dripping down her face.
“Rapunzel.” Suddenly Cal stood in front of her. He gathered her into his arms. She didn’t want him to touch her, but she had nowhere else to go.
“I’m sorry.” His lips pressed to her temple. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear. And I love you. More than my own life.” His lips traveled down her temple, to her cheek, to the side of her lips. He kissed the tear trembling on the edge of her jaw.
“I just…needed more excitement.” His thumbs massaged her shoulders. “We’ve been together so long. And you know you can be stingy with sex.”
Layla tore herself from his arms. “You’re…blaming me?”
“No. Shit. I’m fucking this up.” Cal dragged a hand through his hair. “I just wanted a little more adventure. I needed to get my rocks off. That’s what guys do. We’re basically cavemen.”
Layla shook her head. Fury and heartbreak battled within her chest. “You told Breanna you would break up with me.”
Hadn’t that been what Jax told her last night? That Breanna and Cal had both agreed to leave their partners? Breanna had followed through. And Cal… not yet.
Cal rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it, Rapunzel. Of course, I didn’t mean it. She was getting hysterical. I had to tell her something. But you’re the one I want. The one I love.”
He pulled her into his arms again. Layla resisted, turning her back to him. He draped his arms around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder. She could smell his cologne, the scent of leather and clove so familiar and safe.
“We’re meant to be together, right?” he murmured against her neck. “Layla Sandoval, I’m going to marry you. We’re going to have the wedding of your dreams. The happily ever after you deserve. Okay?”
“How?” Her voice trembled. How could any of that be possible after this?
“Look, this is really bad timing.” He pulled in a long breath. “I’ve got to get to work. My bonus is on the line. But I want to talk about this more. I want to explain. We’ve needed to spice things up in our relationship for a while. Wouldn’t you agree?”
No! Her heart screamed. She remained silent.
“I think this can actually be a good thing. A new beginning.” Cal spun her around and tried to kiss her. Layla jerked her face away from him.
“Rapunzel, don’t cry. You know I hate it when you cry.” Cal held her against him. His arms had always been her refuge. Her home. Now, she felt trapped.
He released her. “Please, don’t think about this too much. We’ll talk tonight, I promise. We’ll get through this. I know we will.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, picked up his phone and keys, and walked to the door.
He turned back and gazed at her from across the room. “I love you, Layla.”
She looked down, searching for answers, hope, any measure of consolation in the grain of the redwood floorboards. Cal sighed, and she heard the sound of the door closing.
Without any conscious thought, Layla slid to the floor, her shoulder bumping the lip of the breakfast bar. She closed her eyes, struggling to breathe between the loud, racking sobs that echoed through the empty house.