Ch. 26 – Layla
O n Tuesday morning, Layla turned her SUV into the lot of the small post office, pulled into a parking spot, and looked over at the passenger seat. At them, the neat stack of nearly 200 hand-addressed envelopes. Each one held a small identical note printed on thick cardstock, proof that there truly was an Etsy store for everything.
CANCELLATION, the card announced in large swirly text at the top. We regret to inform you that the wedding of Calvin Bishop Junior and Layla Sandoval has been canceled. We appreciate your understanding at this difficult time.
Those two simple sentences carried the weight of her broken dream. Of her wounded heart. Ten years of love poisoned by betrayal.
Layla waited for the tears, but they didn’t come. Yes, she felt the familiar dull ache in her chest, but even that pain seemed diminished. She expected heartbreak. A squall of tears and recrimination. But, digging deep, all she could muster was resignation.
Why?
Prem.
Even the sound of his name in her mind made Layla’s body hum.
It was wrong.
Salacious.
Hot.
Layla should be in mourning. The letters sitting in the passenger seat represented the utter destruction of her greatest dream. She should be a basket case. Elbow deep in ice cream. Bathing in wine. Chained to a Love Island marathon.
But, instead, she was…fine?
Prem.
Unicorn sparkles filled her entire body, sending zaps of electricity through her stomach, her heart, her lungs.
Last night had been….
Magical.
Wonderful.
Hot.
Every time she blinked, Layla could see memories branded onto the backs of her eyelids. The water sliding down Prem’s bronze skin. His dark eyes pulsing with desire. Something else about him pulsing, too.
She’d experienced another big O. It’d ripped through her. Almost made her knees buckle. Thank Jesus, Prem’s strong arms had held her up.
And that was the problem.
Layla had spent last night in bed ricocheting between two extremes. First, she’d replay that sensual shower, and her body would vibrate like someone was beating a drum inside of her. And then she’d remember all the reasons every single bit of this was wrong.
Prem was her boss.
She was literally sitting in a car with a stack of wedding cancellations.
She needed time to think. Time to recover. She needed to put a pause on whatever this was.
But first things first.
Sucking in a deep breath, Layla unlocked her phone. Quickly, before she could chicken out, she unblocked Cal’s number from her messaging app. Immediately, the screen filled with a litany of unread messages from Cal. Layla ignored them all and pasted in the message she’d composed this morning.
Cal, I love you, but it’s time we officially go our separate ways. I’m sending out the wedding cancellations today. Over my lunch, I’ll go to the house and pack up the rest of my clothes and things. You can keep everything else. I’ll leave the house key on the counter in the kitchen. Please respect my decision and stop sending me gifts. Maybe in time we can be friends, but I’m not ready for that now. Please give me space and don’t contact me. I wish you the best. [Heart emoji]
Layla read the message carefully one more time, then, without pausing, hit Send.
She waited for relief to wash through her. Or a tidal wave of emotion. Nothing. If anything, it all felt…anticlimactic. A short, resigned laugh escaped her mouth just as three dots appeared on the message screen.
Layla squeaked in alarm, scrambled to quickly re-block Cal’s number, and then tossed her phone on the passenger seat like it’d turned radioactive.
She let out her breath.
There.
Rubicon crossed.
Now, the rest.
Layla swung out of her SUV, opened the passenger door, and gathered the letters in her arm. Walking to the large mailbox outside the post office, she cranked down the door with her elbow.
She paused. “Goodbye wedding,” she said softly. “Goodbye, Cal.”
She lifted her arms and watched the white envelopes stream into the box.
*
When she arrived at All Paws and Claws a half hour before open, Layla tried to be brave. She put a stern expression on her face as she pulled open the back door and walked with strong, steady steps through the back of the clinic. She and Prem had to talk. Had to slow things down and find their footing.
She discovered him at the far end of the clinic, standing next to the exam table. He held Sunny’s sling, helping support the skinny orange tabby. At the sound of Layla’s steps, Prem turned, met her eyes, and smiled.
“Watch.” Delight filled his voice.
That smile. Those eyes.
Layla’s spine melted like butter. All her concerns and careful objections evaporated. She tip-toed to the table, a grin already spreading on her face as she watched Sunny take slow, halting steps forward.
“He’s putting weight on his back legs!” she whispered and resisted the urge to clap her hands ecstatically.
“Definitely an improvement,” Prem agreed, keeping his voice hushed as well. “If he can walk with a little weight on his back legs, that indicates he’s healing. There’s a good chance he’ll continue to improve.”
“You hear that, Sunny!” Layla squealed, no longer able to keep her voice low. “You’re going to walk again!”
Prem chuckled. “Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch, but this is a really good sign.”
Together, they watched Sunny complete a full lap up and down the table with Prem’s help. When he reached the table’s edge, the cat slid to his belly.
“You done, huh?” Prem said. “Alright. Since you did so well, I’ll let you out of PT early.”
“You did so good, Sunny!” Layla gently scooped the cat into her arms and peppered him with kisses. “I’m so proud of you!”
She rocked with the cat, then froze as she met Prem’s gaze. She half expected him to roll his eyes, but instead, he simply smiled at her. Layla smiled back.
Naughty memories flashed through her mind.
Prem had gone slower last night in the shower, taking his time exploring her body. Like he wanted to savor her. His fascination and clear delight had emboldened her. Layla had explored him as well, letting her fingers probe his solid chest, then tracing the trail of black hair leading down from his belly button to that thrilling, stiff part of him.
“I want to ask you out.”
Layla almost dropped the disabled cat in her arms.
“What?” she managed, spinning to face him.
Prem looked utterly, adorably nervous. So different from his usual stern, controlled self. A hand raked through his dark hair.
“I want to ask you out,” he repeated. “On a date. I want to do this right.”
He was her boss.
She’d just gotten out of the longest relationship of her life. Heck, make that the only serious relationship of her life.
Her heart was held together by peeling Band-Aids.
There were so many reasons this wasn’t a good idea.
But Prem made her soul dance. He filled her body with unicorn sparkles.
“Yes.” The answer came straight from her heart, bypassing all the logic circuits of her brain.
“Yes?” Prem asked, hope brimming in that single word.
“Yes,” Layla repeated.
Consequences be damned.