Chapter Twenty-One
LAYLA
Tori’s room is a mess. Clothes, toys, and toiletries cover every available surface, even the little trundle bed where she wants to lay sleeping Sadie.
I move the clothes and stuffed animals from the surface and pull back the covers. Hidden under the blankets are the wooden animal ornaments. I scoop them into my hands and lay them on the floor next to the pillow.
Tori lays her daughter on the bed and removes her designer party dress before tucking her beneath the comforter.
“Fingers crossed she stays asleep,” Tori says under her breath.
Sadie groans as she stretches her arms over her head. Our eyes widen as we wait for what comes next. She rolls over with eyes still closed. We tip-toe from the room .
Once in the hallway, Tori sags against the door. Fatigue seems to weigh down her every limb, but she laughs. “That girl drives me crazy, but sometimes I can’t handle how much I love her. It’s a physical ache. I want to give her everything, but I can’t give her what she wants the most: a dad who sticks around.”
Her melancholy descends as swiftly as the laughter did. I wonder how much sleep she’s had since she arrived.
Music and voices carry up the stairs for those who have yet to leave, even though it’s past seven. It’s been a fun, exhausting day. My favorite part was meeting the Zimmermans, the family who made me the delicious Christmas Eve dinner. I found out Owen paid them three hundred dollars for the food, even though they offered to make the meal for just the cost of ingredients. Three hundred dollars. I’m still in shock.
“Come on,” I say, taking Tori by the arm and leading her to my room. “Let’s take a break. I’m partied out.”
Once there, we collapse on my couch and put our feet up on the coffee table. Instead of talking, we close our eyes and are half asleep when Tori’s phone rings.
She pulls it from the hidden pocket in her maxi skirt. “Ugh. It’s the ex, probably wanting to rub it into my face that he’s with his new girlfriend.”
She throws her phone across the room, where it smacks against the wall. It doesn’t seem to concern her she might have damaged it.
“I’m sorry he’s making you miserable.”
She scowls. “I miss him, but I hate him. I hate how small he wants me to feel and how little he cares about Sadie.” She scrunches her face. “Looking back, my motivation for marrying was because I hated practicing law. I wanted out of my job, and the only escape I saw was marriage and having a baby.”
I wanted out of my job and the only escape I saw was marriage. Her words hit like a hammer to my skull. I want out of my financial predicament, and the only escape I see is marriage. That hits close, and my heart hiccups in my chest.
“My plan failed.” She waves her hands through the air. “Not only is my marriage over, but Mom wants me back at the firm. I’ve put her off, but once Sadie starts kindergarten, I won’t have any excuse not to.”
Tori lifts my hand from the couch and studies my engagement ring, unaware that I’m close to passing out.
“I wish the best for you and Spencer. He’s a wonderful guy. When my ex told me he wanted a divorce, Spencer was one of the first people I told. He dropped everything to come to New York for the weekend to help me. Surprising, since he reminds me of my parents.” She drops my hand and blows out a breath. “Everything is less important than the people paying for their time.”
More truth hammers into my heart. How sad that Tori feels her parents care more for their clients than for her. Will my children grow up feeling like their dad cares more about his clients than he does about them? Of course they will, because I feel that way now. Tori didn’t mention how much work Spencer did in New York while he stayed with her, but she doesn’t have to. His clients are never out of reach, no matter where he travels.
My tongue is stuck to the top of my dry mouth, and it’s an effort to push words past my numb lips. “How did you cope with your parents being gone so much?”
“I filled my time with hobbies and school. It helped as long as I didn’t put too much energy into hoping they would show up to my golf tournaments or praise me for my perfect grades. What’s funny is I married a man who treated me the same way they did: as an afterthought.” She tilts her head back against the couch and closes her eyes. “More horrifying than funny when I think about it.”
Every word Tori speaks brings my future into frightening clarity. Theoretically, I know exactly what my marriage to Spencer will look like, but listening to Tori and seeing her heartbreak is real. It makes my future feel tangible in a way it hasn’t before.
This week, Spencer has made time for me. He sacrificed what he could, as long as it didn’t compromise his case. What about next year? Or in five years? Will he still be making these little sacrifices? Or will I become indistinguishable from the furniture?
“I’m an afterthought to Spencer,” I whisper.
Tori sits up, her eyes wide, and says with false cheer, “Of course not. Spencer isn’t like my ex. He loves you. I’m not sure my ex ever loved me. I was more of a trophy wife.” She gags. “He works for the family firm; did you know that? He won the prize of marrying the granddaughter of the owner. I stopped caring how much jewelry he bought me once I realized all I wanted was to be seen for who I am and not who my family is. You don’t have to worry about that. Spencer sees you. He adores you. He will never take you for granted.”
I’m not so sure about that last part because Spencer doesn’t adore me. He may not want to marry me for my family connections, but he does want to show me off to his clients and increase his inheritance.
Tori’s past is my present. Her present is my probable future. And right now, she is hurting and alone because of her ex-husband. I might throw up.
She continues her pep-talk. “You and Spencer are a great couple. You’ll have the cutest little children.”
Of that I have no doubt, but the idea of having kids with him hits me differently after spending the week with Tori and Sadie. I don’t want to be a single mother, and even married, that is what I will be as Spencer’s wife.
When I say nothing in response to Tori, she hesitantly says, “Did I upset you?”
“No.” I can only hope my lie is convincing. I don’t want her to feel bad for confiding in me. “Not at all.” I swallow thickly. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Okay, but only if you’re sure I didn’t say something wrong. I can be thoughtless sometimes.”
“I’m okay. I promise.”
My smile must be persuasive, because after a few seconds of Tori studying me, she nods. I turn on the TV and start flipping through channels, paying little attention to what comes up on the screen until I land on Hallmark. When Tori’s breathing levels out, and she falls asleep, I mute the TV and grab a blanket from the end of the bed and place it over her.
I want to talk to Meg and Livy, and even grab my phone to call, but I can’t. Especially not now when I’ve seen a glimpse into my future. It will take very little to convince me I’m making a mistake, yet what is my other option besides marrying Spencer? I need the money he promised by Monday to pay the rest of January’s Brock Pine Home bill. I need it to pay my rent. It would be nice to have food this month besides ramen and rice. There is nothing left in any account. It’s gone. Nana supported me, and it’s my turn to support her. I can’t do it without Spencer. Alone, I fail.
A text comes through from Owen. He wants to talk, but we’ve said everything there is to say to each other. He thinks he can help, but I haven’t told him how much debt I have or how much more I’ll accrue. I’m too ashamed to give him the complete picture of what a mess I’m in, and it’ll humiliate both of us when he admits he’s not in a financial position to help me.
A knock comes at the door. My heart stutters. It’s probably Owen, so I stay where I am and hope he doesn’t peek inside. Another knock, but then all is silent.
My phone buzzes again and I expect a text from Owen, but it’s a Facebook memory notification. I open it to find the video I made in honor of Opa after he passed. I press play.
It begins with pictures of when Opa was a little boy in Germany and through his teenage years until he moved to the United States and met Nana. The rest of the pictures are of them together, their lives entwined completely. My vision blurs as mom grows up, and then I’m on the scene. Mom becomes frailer in each photo until she’s gone. Nana and Opa persevere, raising their granddaughter in a house they fill with love. I never doubted their complete devotion to each other or to me.
Nana always wanted the best for her family. She would be devastated to know what I’m sacrificing for her. If she were aware of my situation, she would understand that I’m destitute and be okay if she became a ward of the state. She wouldn’t want me to marry a man I don’t love to help her. It’s a hard truth to accept because I want to give her everything she gave me. Maybe that desire has weighed me down more than the financial burden.
For the first time in a week, I allow myself to think through my situation in a way that doesn’t include Spencer. What options haven’t I considered?
Busking. A weak smile plays on my lips as I wipe tears from my cheeks. I don’t discount the idea completely, but it’s not a solid plan.
My roommates. I’ve never talked to them about my need for money because I don’t want them to worry, and Nana is my responsibility. But, if I explained, at the very least they would help me cover my rent.
Spencer. When I originally met with him at L’oie Bleue I asked for a loan. If I broke off our engagement, he would still give it to me. Maybe. It will take my whole life to pay it back on a teacher’s salary, but I will try.
If he refuses to give me the loan, then I’d have to let the state step in. It’s an option that physically hurts, but Nana will still be cared for, and that’s what matters.
My knee bounces, but I don’t realize it until Tori groans in her sleep. Too agitated to stay still, I pace the room while I chew on my thumbnail, thinking through the two options: marry Spencer or don’t marry Spencer.
The more difficult road is breaking off my engagement. I’ve never shied away from hard work, but taking back all my debts is bleak. For one week, I was free. Now the financial demands feel like manacles around my feet.
Unfortunately, as I wear a line through the carpet, I know not marrying Spencer is the path that will make me happier in the long run. Marrying him is trading one type of prison for another. I choose the financial prison over being locked in a loveless marriage.
It takes a few hours for me to build up the courage to talk to Spencer. I made a promise. I don’t want to go back on my word, but there is more at stake here than disappointing him.
I have to tell him my decision now. I can’t wait until we return to Utah. It’s not fair to either of us, especially because the family is meeting with Rheta’s lawyer tomorrow, and she promised me a gift. I can’t accept anything from her when I know I won’t be part of the family in the future.
Tori’s still asleep on my couch, so I shut the door behind me with a soft click. All is quiet downstairs. I’m not sure if Spencer is still working, so I check his bedroom first. There is no answer to my knock.
I head downstairs. The house is dark, the remnants of the party waiting until tomorrow to be cleaned up. The office door is open. Spencer is inside, as are Gerald and Ellory. Even though Spencer told me building the case is going well, it seems they still need to spend fourteen hours a day on the thing. Seeing their slouched shoulders and weary expressions makes me tired.
“Spencer?”
He looks up and suppresses a yawn. “Layla. I thought you went to bed hours ago.”
“I need to talk to you. ”
He stretches his arms above his head and stands. “I was about to take a break outside. I need the cold air to wake me up. Want to join me?”
I follow him toward the door, but not before taking the blanket from the back of the couch.
The moment I walk out on the deck, I’m surrounded by white. It snowed over the last few hours. A day late for Christmas, but it still brings me joy. I twirl with my hands out to my sides, and watch big, soft flakes tumble from the gray sky. For a few moments, I forget my reason for being here, until Spencer speaks.
“What did you want to talk to me about? Is Owen bothering you again?”
My joyful snow twirl halts, and I move to stand next to him under the shelter of the eaves. I don’t know how to say what I need to say in any way other than blunt. “I can’t marry you.”
It’s always fascinated me how clouds reflect light back to earth, making it seem lighter than the hour would suggest. Spencer’s narrowed eyes and pinched lips are visible, and I wish they weren’t. I hate how I’ve failed him, but I’d hate to fail myself even more.
“We have an agreement.”
“I wish I could marry you. It would definitely make my life easier, but what we have is a counterfeit engagement that will turn into a marriage where we are nothing more than roommates. I can’t help but see that down the road we’ll make each other miserable.”
He looks off into the distance, his jaw set, his hands in his pants pockets. “Misery is a decision. We decide to be happy and we’ll be happy. ”
I can’t tell if he’s being purposefully blind or if he truly believes it’s that easy. Maybe for him, it would be. Work is his first love, and if he only saw me for a few hours on the weekend, then maybe that’s all he needs to be happy. Except, he deserves to be loved just as much as I do. Even if he doesn’t want that for himself, I wish it for him.
“Spencer, there is someone out in the world waiting for a man like you. I don’t want to rob you of the opportunity to love and be loved.”
“How altruistic of you,” he says with a touch of sarcasm. “Except I don’t want to marry for love. I told you about my father.”
“Your father mistakes infatuation for love and he’s given you a false idea of what to expect from marriage. When two people marry for love, they make sacrifices and they don’t give up on each other. Like my grandparents and yours.”
“In my experience, that is the exception, not the rule.”
What a bleak outlook on relationships. If I believed like he did, I would spend all my time at work, too.
When he speaks again, his voice is pleading. “Layla, friendship can endure longer than love if you’d give us a chance. Let me prove it to you.”
I think of Tori sleeping upstairs. The probability of us ending up like her and her ex-husband is greater than married bliss. Especially when I feel like I do about Owen. That isn’t fair to either of us. Spencer believes he wants this marriage, but for the good of both of us, I have to refuse.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
Suddenly agitated, he rakes both hands through his hair. “This is because of Owen, isn’t it? He swayed you into believing he’s a better man than I am. Don’t fall for his lies. He’s a layabout who can’t keep a job.”
“This decision is about me and what I want for my future. I thought I could sacrifice love for security, but I can’t do it.” I shouldn’t bring Owen up, but I don’t like what Spencer said about him. He should know the truth. “Owen isn’t a layabout. He’s not just a landscaper, he owns the business. You might know this if you gave him a chance.”
He snorts. “No thanks. He’s stolen my fiancée. I think that’s all I need to know about him. So, we’re done? No longer engaged? You’re giving up a chance to care for your grandmother so you can find a fairytale love ?”
The most depressing part about my future is I won’t ever find love. I refuse to bring Owen into my financial problems, and I doubt that will change with anyone else I meet going forward. Spencer doesn’t need to know I’m picking a life of loneliness over him.
It’s time to ask the big question. I overlook Spencer's anger. He has a right to it. I’ve done him wrong. But I still need money.
“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, Spencer. It wasn’t my intention, and I know you’re angry, but I have a favor to ask. Last Friday, before you proposed, I asked you for a loan. Is that something you’d reconsider?”
He takes a few steps away, his attention on his feet as they crunch through the snow. He turns back to face me. Fat snowflakes gather in his hair. The longer he takes to answer, the more I believe he’ll say no. I begin to make a plan for moving Nana to a home the state will pay for.
Spencer finally says, “Alright. ”
I slump against the side of the house, lightheaded with relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a monster. My assistant will send you a contract on Monday. As soon as you sign it, I’ll wire transfer the funds to your account.”
He’s going to be okay. He’s hurt and angry, but not furious or filled with the need to cause me pain. I wish I could love him. This past year, each time we dated, I wished the same thing.
He tugs at the bottom of his sweater. “Anything else?”
“I should return your ring.” I slip it off my finger and hold it out.
He doesn’t touch it. He can’t even look at it. “If you put it on the dresser in my room, then I’ll be sure not to lose it.” He turns to go back inside, but then pauses. “It would be better if you left tomorrow instead of Saturday. I’ll change your flight and text you the details. I’m sure Miles will drive you to the airport.”
“Thank you, Spencer. For everything.” I hope he hears my gratitude in my voice. The words feel paltry compared to what he’s given me and Nana.
He shuts the door firmly behind him. I’d rather not walk through the office after that conversation, so there better be an unlocked door somewhere in this house. Once again, I’m caught outside without a phone.
“Layla?”
I jump at the unexpected voice coming from my left.
Rheta, wrapped in the shawl I gave her for Christmas, steps next to me.
“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?”
“Um… ”
Did she hear my conversation with Spencer? Please, no. I want her to continue to like me.
She pats my arm. “I’m sorry you won’t be a part of the family, but you made the right decision. Marriage is hard and without love, it’s nearly impossible to make a go of it.”
Shame colors my cheeks crimson. My whole body feels overheated. How far below is the ground? Close enough for me to jump and survive? I’m sure the two inches of snow will help cushion my fall.
“Rheta, I’m sorry for lying to you. I was desperate, which made me foolish.”
“You didn’t lie. Never once did you tell me you loved my grandson, and you didn’t need to because it was obvious to everyone you two don’t share those feelings. I wondered what the motivation was behind your engagement, and now I know. No lasting harm done.”
I glance at the closed office door. I think she’s right. I hope so.
“Thank you for understanding,” I say, “though I don’t feel I deserve it.”
“Nonsense. Life is about learning, and in the process, we all make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes put us exactly where we’re meant to be.”
That’s an optimistic view of life. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes, I do. Now, you’re ready to go inside. My bedroom is two doors down. You can go through there.”
My shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you. And thank you for a wonderful Christmas. I loved being here.”
“I loved having you. You are a gift to my family, even if it was only for a week.”
That is one of the sweetest, most earnest compliments I’ve received. I’m sad I’ll never see her again. This is goodbye forever.
“Goodbye, Rheta.”
“Goodbye, Layla.”
As I walk through her room, into the hallway, and up to my room, the familiar weight of financial ruin settles on my shoulders, yet I feel lighter after breaking off my engagement than I have all week.