CHAPTER 3
Plot Twist
Gabriela
Brunch with Anna and Layla was something I looked forward to every week. It was like a reset button for me, spending time with my found family while gorging on French toasts, fruits, and lattes.
Who needed therapy when you could have girls’ time with your best friends?
After eating, we hung out in Anna’s impressive walk-in closet with the strains of an old Beyoncé song playing in the background as she took our measurements.
The crystal chandelier above our heads illuminated the space, the walls decked out with velvet displays containing priceless jewelry, shelves with heels and thigh-high boots—Anna’s guilty pleasure—pink silk hangers with rows of lingerie, and endless designer and thrifted clothes, including Anna’s own creations, which, in my opinion, were far superior to anything you could buy on the market.
She was incredibly talented and would one day have her own haute-couture label.
“I should have these bustiers done by the end of the month,” Anna said, the statement earrings in her lobes swaying as she bent forward to wrap the measuring tape around Layla’s waist. “What colour do you want for yours, Lay?”
I’d already requested mine be black.
Layla gazed at her reflection in the ornate mirror with a tilted head. “Normally, I’d ask for white, but Josh does love me in yellow. Maybe something in between…like a cream colour?”
Anna’s hazel eyes found me where I leaned next to the glass showcase housing all her beauty queen pageant trophies, and we shared a knowing smile.
Layla in love was a good look. For years, she’d been shy and closed-off, never allowing herself to feel too much.
Then Josh entered her life and bulldozed through all her walls with his golden retriever energy.
She’d never stood a chance against the determined mob prince.
Catching our expressions in the mirror, Layla narrowed her green eyes. “Stop that.”
“What?” I shrugged, trying to tame the teasing nature of my features. “We haven’t said anything.”
Layla released a long exhale, rolling her eyes, despite her own smile twitching her lips. “I know, but you’re all thinking it. I’m whipped.”
“Hey—you said it,” Anna piped up while writing Layla’s measurements on her pink notepad. “Not us.”
Layla combed her fingers through her dark hair and sighed. “Sometimes I have these moments where I wonder if all of this—him—is too good to be true. I feel like one day I’ll wake up and it will just have been a dream. One big fantasy I concocted in my mind.”
Layla rarely opened up to others. Josh was the first man she allowed herself to be emotionally available with and this was the most vulnerable she’d ever been. “You’re a sure thing, Lay. You have nothing to worry about.”
A wistful expression flashed on her countenance as she turned around to face us, adjusting the cap sleeves of her white satin maxi. “You’re right. I do have the ring to prove it.”
Josh bought her a sparkly diamond a few months ago—he was single-handedly raising all her standards—as a promise. They were saving themselves for one another.
The romantic in me swooned, but the cynic in me scoffed. Sometimes my track record with men made it hard for me to believe that maybe there were good ones out there who’d do anything for their significant others. But Josh was definitely one of them.
“Let’s also not forget the tattoo on his chest that says Layla,” Anna launched over her shoulder as she walked towards the mannequin in the corner of her closet, her pink thigh-high boots click-clacking.
They were brand-new and she was trying to break them in.
“If that doesn’t prove that man is insane for you, I don’t know what will. ”
Layla blushed.
“See?” I said. “You have nothing to worry about—”
Layla’s phone ringing cut off the rest of my sentence. “Oh, it’s him.”
Speak of the devil. “Don’t mind us. Answer it.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes,” Anna assured and then chin-nodded at me as she placed the measuring tape around the mannequin’s neck. “Gabby, come over here. I want to show you something.”
With a grateful glance in our direction, Layla brought her phone to her ear, saying, “Hi, Jay.”
“Josh and Layla, sitting in a tree,” I sing-songed loudly and teasingly, skipping after Anna. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
Layla palmed her face with an embarrassed groan.
Anna laughed and I was certain I heard the distinct sound of Josh singing along on the other side like a little shit.
They continued their conversation in hushed voices, probably confirming their dinner plans for tonight, while Anna and I headed into her bedroom, a glamorous affair composed of pink, gold, and white accents.
She perched against her regal vanity laden with makeup and ornamental bottles of perfume, and I walked towards her queen-sized bed to take a seat. My eyes wandered over to the shelves beside Anna, holding all her crowns, sashes, and sceptres from past competitions.
“What did you want to show me?” I asked, sitting on my hands and wiggling my feet that barely touched the floor. Out of all my friends, I was the shortest. Anna was five-foot-nine, Layla five-foot-six, and myself? A whopping five-foot-two. Though I made up for my lack of height with my personality.
“Nothing.” Anna picked a red nail polish from her stash and shot it my way. I caught it. “I just wanted to give Layla and Josh some privacy.”
I shook the bottle of varnish and unscrewed the cap before meticulously painting my bare toenails.
Red and black were my favourite colours and they were well-incorporated into my wardrobe.
Over the last few years, Anna helped me curate my outfits based on my style, ranging from classy, business chic, dark academia, gothic-inspired to everything in between.
“Where are your mom and brother today?” I inquired after applying my first coat.
Pensive, Anna gazed down at her own sparkly pink nails. “Michael is hanging out with his friend, and Mom’s at work. Too busy for us as usual.”
I hated the sadness surrounding her. “Anna…”
Grief was the hardest emotion to process in my opinion. After all, it was love that had no place to go, locked inside the chest of your soul with the key floating somewhere in the river of your tears.
Anna’s dad died almost a year ago and the wound was still very much raw and bleeding, barely bandaged and with no signs of healing soon.
Michael was too young to fully grasp that his dad was gone forever, Anna’s mom avoided their reality by throwing herself into work so she never had to stop and think about the loss of her soulmate, and our best friend?
She was all too aware of his death and trying her best to cope without his presence.
Some days were good, like today. And some days were really bad, where pulling herself out of bed and going through the motions of her daily routine felt too much.
She was wracked with guilt and pain that never seemed to lessen.
Layla and I did our best to be there for her and offer all the comfort we possibly could. But I understood that with these kinds of tragedies, only time would heal the wound. I truly hoped Anna could one day live freely without all these demons haunting her.
Anna shook her head as if ridding herself of certain thoughts. “Anyways, how was the party last night? Did you have a good time?”
During brunch, I avoided the topic of the party, steering the conversation towards our busy school and work week instead. Naturally, Anna picked up on it.
“It was good. I had fun.”
And I made out with the hottest man alive.
Done with her phone call, Layla chose that exact moment to breeze out of the walk-in closet, the train of her dress trailing behind her like an angelic cloud. “By the way, Josh mentioned you ran into Hunter at the party.”
“Oh.” My throat went dry. “W-what exactly did Hunter tell him?”
Anna and Layla sported matching frowns at my tone.
“Just that he ran into you.” Suspicious, Layla crossed her arms over her chest and went to stand beside Anna. “Was Hunter supposed to tell Josh something beyond that?”
Huh. So he didn’t tell Josh that we kissed. Not that I expected him to. Hunter didn’t appear like the kind of person to kiss and tell. And regardless of what men claimed, they loved to gossip. Just like women. If not more.
My silence caused their frowns to melt and their eyes to sharpen into inquisitive stares filled with plenty of unanswered questions.
“Gabriela,” Anna hedged calmly, the use of my full name not lost on me. “Is there something you want to tell us?”
I shrank under their undivided attention. Papà always said that if I ever got kidnapped and interrogated, I’d crack like an egg and spill every secret they demanded. I wasn’t one of God’s strongest warriors and I was okay with that. “Like what?”
“Did something happen between you and”—Anna and Layla exchanged a quick glance before fixating on me again—“Hunter?”
“Why would you say that?” I avoided eye contact and continued applying my second coat of nail polish. What a pretty shade of blood red. I loved it.
“Based on the way you’re acting and squirming,” Layla chimed in.
Fuck it.
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, “I might have kissed Hunter last night.”
It got so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop.
Followed by a loud eruption of girlish shrieks. I pretended to block out their noise by cupping my hands over my ears, even though I grinned widely at their reactions. “Quiet down, you banshees!”
Layla shot a pink pillow my way. “Spill. Every. Single. Detail.”
“I can’t believe that wasn’t the first thing you told us this morning,” Anna accused with a mirthful edge. “Why so secretive?”
Layla mock gasped. “She didn’t say anything because it meant something to her. She liked it. Otherwise, she tells us about every meaningless hookup.”
“You’re right. This one meant something.” Anna’s eyes flared. “You like him, don’t you, Gabby?”