Ch. 55 – Layla
L ayla’s joints ached. Her legs felt like anvils. But she picked up her pace as she spotted the staging area in the distance. Minutes ground forward like hours, but finally, she crossed beneath the start/finish banner.
Three laps down.
One final lap to go.
Eight more miles.
Layla wanted to stagger to a secluded patch of grass, curl into the fetal position, and cry. Instead, she affixed a smile on her face as she turned to greet the small, cheering crowd spilling out from the Crazy Cat Lady pop-up.
Her smile widened as she noticed her mother in the group, along with Val Tanner.
“How are you feeling?” Suddenly, Alanna was in her face, freshly showered and wearing an expression of concern. She must have driven home and picked up their mother sometime over the last lap.
“Cause you look like shit,” her sister added.
“Alanna!” their mother chided. “Don’t say that… out loud.” The last two words were murmured under her mother’s breath.
Alanna put an arm around Layla’s waist and practically hauled her into the shade of the pop-up. Layla resisted the urge to groan as she dropped ungracefully into a camping chair. The Crazy Cat Ladies surrounded her like a professional pit crew. Tess pulled off her pack while Everly slapped sunscreen on her arms, and Jax put a peeled orange into her hand.
Layla closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the heaviness of her legs.
“How was Willow?” Jax asked.
Layla forced her eyes open and gave Jax a reassuring smile. “She was struggling a bit mentally but was handling it. We ran two miles together.” She winked at Jax. “And you might be getting another roommate soon of the feline variety.”
“Really?” Jax grinned.
“Seriously, though, how you feeling?” Alanna demanded, hovering near Layla’s elbow.
Layla popped a slice of orange into her mouth to buy herself some time. She looked around at the happy, smiling faces of the people she loved. The people who had come all the way out here to cheer her on. The people who had signed up and trained and run this race just for her.
“I’m tired,” she finally answered, “but feeling good.”
It was a fib.
A big fib.
Okay, it was a lie that had been adopted by a fib family. But she couldn’t let down her friends and her mother.
She had to finish for them.
After a few more minutes of rest, she shrugged on her sweat-soaked, newly refilled water pack and stood from the camping chair. A bowling ball of hurt rolled down her body, starting at her hips and picking up speed as it hit her quads, knees, calves, and ankles. Her stomach sloshed. For a long, terrible second, Layla contemplated sitting back down in the camping chair. But if she did, she wouldn’t get up again. Pulling in a deep breath, she forced a tight smile on her face.
“Here I go!” she said brightly to the group.
Her mother kissed her on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you! We’ll all be waiting for you at the finish.”
The words were surely meant to be comforting, but they landed on her like lead weights. Everyone is counting on you, Layla thought. They’ll be so disappointed if you don’t finish.
She waved and tried to mimic a steady jog as she passed beneath the start/finish banner on her final lap. As soon as the path wound out of sight of the staging area, she slowed to a shuffle, and her smile vanished. Layla tucked her head down, clamped her teeth together, and forced her legs to keep moving.
“I can do this,” she whispered to herself. “I can do this. I can do this.”
A mile in, her right calf started to twitch. At the next hill, her legs felt utterly empty. She slowed to a walk.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to herself. “If you have to walk, you have to walk.”
A woman wearing a marathon race bib passed on the left, her strides long and fluid. Layla watched with equal parts admiration and despair as the woman confidently pulled further and further away until she eventually disappeared around a bend.
Alone again on the trail, Layla shuffled forward. With each step, a hot spot on the side of her heel grew larger and more painful. Why hadn’t she put more Vaseline on her feet in the staging area?
Think of something else, she ordered herself. Permission granted, her mind opened up the corral where her worries had been herded. In two weeks, she’d be re-starting her degree program. She’d already registered for her classes: Animal Anatomy and Physiology, Pharmacology and Toxicology, and Clinical Pathology.
Sagebrush Canyon College’s veterinary technician program was known to be particularly challenging. She remembered struggling through the workload on her first go-around, her eyes growing blurry as she tried to memorize endless Latin terms and chemical formulas.
Did she really have what it took to finish the program?
Layla’s right calf muscle twitched more violently. She paused and massaged it before continuing to walk. Just after her watch dinged with the second mile of the loop, a stitch opened like a knife wound in her rib cage.
Layla winced, pressing on the spot. Every few minutes, she tried to jog but inevitably fell into a walk again after only managing to cover a short distance.
“I can do this,” she chanted to herself. “I can do this.”
The sun beat down on her head and shoulders. She licked at her cracked lips and tried to swallow away the dust coating her throat.
At three and a half miles, Layla gave up on jogging. Instead, it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. She heard a runner approaching from behind and moved to the right of the trail.
“Layla!” Jax slowed, and her dark brows bunched with concern. “I didn’t think I’d catch you.”
Layla tried to stand up a little taller and forced her legs to stretch into normal, brisk steps instead of the short shuffle she’d been using.
“Does that mean Willow finished her lap?” she asked.
Jax grinned and nodded. “I’m so fucking proud of her! Oops, sorry. It feels weird cussing in front of you.”
Layla smiled. “I don’t mind.”
Jax nodded. “Willow was able to switch between running and walking. She finished her lap a lot faster than she anticipated. You should have seen her at the finish. It was beautiful. Some people cried. Not me, of course. But other…unnamed individuals.”
Layla let out a dry laugh. “What an amazing accomplishment. She’s such a wonderful person and so lucky to have you in her life.”
Jax brushed off some non-existent trail dirt on her running shorts. “Willow’s really special. I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize that.”
“But now you know,” Layla said.
“I just…” Jax paused. Layla met her honey-colored eyes, silently encouraging her.
“I just wish Willow knew how strong she was,” Jax finally said.
Layla smiled softly. Willow wasn’t the only one with hidden strength. Over the course of only a few months, Jax had truly blossomed.
“We’ll just have to help Willow see and appreciate her strength,” Layla said and added silently, And you too, Jax.
Jax smiled. “Yeah. We will.”
“Now, go ahead,” Layla said and made a shooing motion. “Don’t walk just for me.”
Jax frowned. “Nah. I don’t mind.”
Layla shook her head. “Jax, you’re the strongest runner on the team. That’s why you’re the anchor. I know you want to run.”
Jax looked longingly down the trail. “But you really don’t look so good, Layla.”
“I’m fine, I promise,” Layla answered. “A little worse for the wear, but I can keep walking. It’s not too much further.”
“Are you sure?” Jax asked, her eyes filled with worry.
“Go,” Layla ordered. “Bring it home for the team.”
“Aye, aye.” Jax saluted. “Just…take care of yourself. Go as slow as you need. We, um, I mean, other unnamed individuals love you.”
Before Layla could respond, Jax wrapped her in a short hug, then bounded down the trail.
“I love the unnamed individuals, too,” Layla croaked at the receding figure, hands cupped over her mouth.
As soon as Jax and her dark, bobbing ponytail were out of sight, Layla reverted to her painful shuffle. Her knees and hips groaned with every step. The hot spot on her foot had transformed into a throbbing, burning blister. And the stitch hacked at her rib cage with a dozen daggers.
“I can do this,” she hissed under her breath. “I can do this. I can—”
The Charlie horse hit like magma, engulfing her right calf in searing heat. Layla staggered, then fell to the ground as her entire calf muscle locked. Excruciating pain ripped up her body. Layla squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands trembled. Her stomach clenched. Tears of pain pricked at the corners of her eyes.
Wave upon wave of pain crashed over her. She was helpless to do anything but ride it out while trying to pull in ragged breaths.
She existed in the torment for what seemed like hours.
But gradually, the torrents of pain eased, and her muscle unlocked. Layla released a shuddering breath and dragged herself to the side of the trail. With gentle fingers, she probed her calf. The muscle was rock hard, and even the slightest pressure caused her to hiss.
“I…can…do…this,” Layla whispered, the words coming out in short sobs.
“I…can…do…this.
I…I…
I…can’t…do…this!” She dropped her forehead onto her bent knee and closed her eyes. It was useless. All her training, all her silly little mantras, all her hopes and dreams. She was too weak.
If she couldn’t finish this race, maybe she’d end up quitting the vet tech program. Maybe she’d never find a new job. Maybe she didn’t really deserve Prem after all.
That’s why he said no, a dark voice hissed in her head. He saw the truth. That you’re weak. He was right not to trust you again.
All the pain and hurt her heart had been holding back finally broke through, like a damn bursting.
I can’t.
I’m not good enough.
It all hurt so much.
The steady beat of footsteps sounded close behind her, and Layla looked up, squinting into the bright sun. An older man wearing a half-marathon race bib slowed to a stop next to her.
He looked at her with kindly eyes. “Are you okay, Miss?”
Layla quickly scrubbed at her eyes and nodded. “It’s just a muscle cramp.”
“The aide station is just a little farther,” he said. “Do you want me to have them call for help?”
Layla wavered. Maybe it would be best…
“No,” she said softly. Then, louder, “No. I’m just going to rest here for a bit, but I think I can make it.”
“Sure, okay.” The man looked at her doubtfully. “Do you have a phone?”
“Yep.” Layla patted her water pack with its front zip-up pocket. “I’ll get to the aid station or call my friends in the staging area if I need help, but I’m fine, really.”
“All right.” The man shrugged. “Then good luck, Miss. I’ll let the aide station know to look out for you.”
Layla watched the man jog away, his strides short and steady. Tears quivered in her eyes, but she brushed them away.
“No,” she said softly to herself. “You are good enough. You can do this.”
Slowly, painfully, she rose to her feet. A new clarity filled her mind.
She’d been so afraid of disappointing her friends by quitting the race. But if she was really honest with herself, she knew they wouldn’t care. Alanna, her mother, and The Crazy Cat Ladies would love her whether she could run a single mile or 30.
There was only one person Layla couldn’t afford to disappoint.
Herself.
She had to finish for her.
Layla took a step forward. Then another. She limped heavily on her right leg, barely able to put weight on her tender calf.
A thought hit her from a distant solar system, and she almost laughed.
I was supposed to get married today.
Instead of walking down the aisle cinched tight in her sparkling, ballgown wedding dress, she was staggering along an empty trail like zombie runner Barbie.
Well, ain’t life interesting.
Layla pushed forward. You can do this, she thought, the words clear and forceful in her brain. You are strong. You are worthy. Your friends know that. Your sister and mother know that.
And Prem?
Layla wobbled but caught herself. She pressed her shoulders back, stood a little taller as she took another slow step forward.
If Prem is too afraid to put his heart on the line, then…maybe he doesn’t deserve me.
The beat of horse hooves echoed in her mind. Layla rolled her eyes. Was that the sound of her Prince Charming riding away into the sunset without her?
“Layla.”
Heck, she could even swear she heard Prem’s voice calling out to her. Maybe she was suffering from heat stroke on top of everything else.
“Layla, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Prem’s voice seemed to come from above.
Layla looked up and almost screamed.
Prem.
He sat astride his beautiful horse, the sun shining behind his dark head like a halo. Their eyes met. Layla’s heart wobbled. Could this be real?
Prem swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. Holding April’s reins, he stepped toward her.
“Are you hurt?” he asked again, his eyes intent and worried.
Layla reached out and touched his shoulder, feeling the softness of his cotton t-shirt and the solid muscle and bone beneath.
“You’re here,” she murmured. “How are you here?”
He shrugged, his mouth lifting into a half smile. “April and I were out for a stroll, and we just so happened upon all these crazy people running on our trails.”
His smile disappeared, and his brows knit together again. “You were limping.”
“My calf.” Layla pointed to the traitorous body part. “It’s cramping.”
“I see.” Prem frowned, then nodded. “Off to the side, here.” He pointed to a patchy area next to the trail.
Layla stared. She still couldn’t quite—
Prem pointed to the spot again. “Sit down.”
Mutely, Layla followed his instructions.
“Hold these.”
As soon as Layla carefully arranged herself on the ground, Prem handed her April’s reins. When she took them, he carefully stretched out her right leg. Layla hissed in pain as his fingers probed her calf.
Prem nodded and clucked his tongue. “Yep, very tight. I’m a doctor, you know.”
Layla would laugh if new tears of pain weren’t leaking out of her eyes.
“Do you have electrolytes?” Prem asked as he continued to gently massage her calf.
Layla unbuckled her water pack, switching the reins to her other hand. She pulled the pack off her shoulder and dug into the front pocket. April ducked her head to explore some of the dried grasses next to the trail while Layla popped an electrolyte gummy into her mouth.
A young woman wearing a team bib approached and carefully walked around them, giving the horse a wide berth. She stared between the woman on the ground, the man massaging her calf, and the horse. Mostly at the horse.
“Afternoon,” Layla said and waved.
“Um…” the woman replied and lifted her hand in an uncertain wave.
“Good job on the race!” Layla told her. “Just a few more miles to go.”
“Thanks?” It was a question. The woman jogged on, turning back to stare…twice.
Prem shook his head and smiled. “On the ground, half dead, and you’re still pleasant as a peach. Why would I expect any different? Drink some more water, please.”
His fingers dug deeper into her calf muscle, and several very unpleasant, unpeachy words popped into Layla’s brain.
For the next 10 minutes, Prem carefully worked on her right calf, slowly unlocking the muscle with his deft, strong fingers. He then switched to her other leg, causing Layla to start another round of painful grunts and groans.
Finally, Prem lowered her left leg to the ground. He stood and held out his hand.
“Let’s see where we’re at.”
Layla stared at his hand, then met his dark eyes. They peered into her soul, liquid wells of strength and comfort. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
Pain drummed down her hips and knees. The blister on her heel screamed like an alarm. But she remained standing. She stared at their clasped hands, his skin a beautiful almond brown against her paleness.
“Can you keep going?” Prem asked.
Layla didn’t even hesitate. “I’m going to finish,” she told him. Didn’t know how, but she would.
Prem smiled, his lips quirking on one side. He took the reins from her hands, and together, they began a slow walk down the trail, April clopping behind them.
“Nice day out,” Prem commented, looking up at the sky. “We’re lucky the fire season hasn’t been too bad this year. I hear things can get pretty dicey in Yucca Hills.”
Layla managed a nod. She knew Prem was just trying to keep her mind off her pain and fatigue. “Yucca Hills is in a high fire zone. We’ve had some close calls in the past,” she told him. “Three houses on the edge of town burned down five years ago, and they had to shut the power off a few times last year as a safety precaution, but so far, we’ve been lucky.”
A few minutes later, they passed the aide station at the four-mile mark. The volunteers stared. One of them batted her eyelashes at Prem. He didn’t seem to notice as he reached over and took a small cup from the table. He handed it to Layla.
She sniffed at the cup and wrinkled her nose. “What is this?”
“Pickle juice. Drink it,” he instructed. “Lots of good salts in there. It’ll help you avoid more cramping.”
Pouting, Layla tossed back the juice like a shot. It washed down her throat, tart and salty.
As they continued to walk, Prem chatted about the clients of the day. Layla tried to focus on his words—something about a guinea pig named Mr. Giggly Pants who needed to lose weight—but she struggled to concentrate. All her energy went into forcing her legs forward. Every step was a battle.
When her watch dinged with the next mile, she leaned against a tree and closed her eyes. She’d completed five miles of the last lap. Twenty-nine miles in total. She only had three miles left to go. On any other day, three miles would be her warmup. Today, in this moment, it seemed nearly impossible.
“Layla.”
She opened her eyes. Prem stared at her intently.
“If you really can’t go on, there’s no shame in that,” he told her. “I can sweep you up onto my gallant steed, and we can ride to the finish, but…” He took her hand. “I don’t think you need me to rescue you. I think you can finish the race.”
His thumb massaged her palm. “You’re tired. A little dehydrated. Your muscles are overworked, but you’re not in any serious danger. By the way, did I mention I’m a doctor?”
Layla laughed in spite of herself.
“What’s it going to be?” Prem asked.
“I told you I was going to finish.” She articulated the words carefully. “That means I am.” Layla pushed herself off the tree and began to walk again on her tired, battered legs.
Prem just nodded.
Time turned wobbly. Prem spoke, but his words grew into a faint, reassuring melody that kept her afloat. Her pain blended together into a singular force she pushed through with each mechanical step.
Layla’s world became small. All her worries and fears slipped away, leaving only one overriding command. Take a step. Another step. Another. Then another.
Periodically, Prem’s voice cut through the fog, cueing her to drink more water or take another electrolyte chew. Layla obeyed automatically while still keeping a tight grip on his hand. Through that connection, he seemed to be feeding her his energy.
Her watch noted another mile completed.
Some unfathomable time later, it dinged again.
Her mind struggled to calculate. Then it did.
One more mile to go.
One. More. Mile.
Prem let go of her hand.
Layla immediately felt cold. Alone. Lost.
“And here I leave you,” he said.
“What?” Panic sparked in Layla’s chest. “No. Don’t.”
Prem smiled at her reassuringly. “April and I are going to take a side path and loop around so we can see you finish.”
“But…” Layla stared at him.
Prem put a hand on her shoulder. “I think you should do this last mile on your own to prove to yourself what I already know.”
“What’s that?” Layla’s voice trembled.
“That you’re the strongest person in the world.”
“Why did you come?” she asked. Strangely, the question only now occurred to her.
“Because I love you.” He said the words like they were obvious. Like they didn’t just cause an 8.0 magnitude earthquake in her soul.
Prem stepped closer and cupped her face in his free hand. “I never stopped loving you, Layla. Not since that first night in the stables. But I got scared. I ran away.”
His smile tightened. “When you confessed your feelings to me two weeks ago, I should have thanked my lucky stars.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “But instead, I was an asshat. And then you gave me a second chance last night, and I screwed that up, too. Maybe I’ve lost you. But even if I did, I need you to hear this. You’re the strongest person I know. It takes strength to be kind, to love as fiercely and deeply as you.”
His voice cracked. His thumb caressed her lips. “Layla, I know I don’t deserve you, but if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you think I am.”
“I…” Layla stammered. Her body hummed. Her heart seemed to be doubling in size every second, filling her entire body.
“Don’t answer now,” he said quickly. “You’ve got an ultra-marathon to finish. Focus on that, and I’ll be at the finish line waiting for you.”
Prem leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. It felt like diamonds. Like roses. Like a thousand Shakespearian poems painted across his lips. Then he stepped back and swung easily into the saddle. He clicked his tongue and the horse and rider trotted down the path and out of sight.
Layla swayed on her tired feet. Her mouth hung open. She touched her cheek where he’d placed his lips.
He loves me? The thought rattled through her mind.
He loves me!
Layla smiled. Her legs began to move. Her strides lengthened.
He loves me!!!
Excitement charged through her veins. Her heart kept growing and growing. Joy filled her. She could feel it in her fingertips.
HE LOVES ME!
Layla began to jog.
And he’s waiting for me.
Layla pondered this thought for a moment and came to one conclusion.
I’ve got to get my booty to that finish line!
She jogged as best she could, the pain dull beneath the crackling excitement still zagging through her body. She walked the hills, but as soon as the ground leveled out again, she forced her legs to run.
The sky stretched overhead, a cloudless, turquoise expanse. The wind caressed her skin. Birds floated gloriously on the thermals. Layla’s watch ticked up the distance. When she reached the last quarter mile, joy bubbled in her chest.
Remember this, she told herself. Remember all of it. The good and the bad, and the horse. Definitely remember the horse.
And the man on the horse.
Her chapped lips stretched into a grin as she spotted the start/finish banner up ahead.
And most of all, remember that you did this for yourself, she told herself. The only happiness you can control is your own.
She forced her legs to move faster. The banner got closer. Then, she saw them arrayed just behind the banner waiting for her.
Her Crazy Cat Ladies. Tess, Everly, Jax, and Willow.
Her family. Alanna and her mother.
Her friends. Val, Sully, Rico, and even Deja were cheering in the group.
My friends. My family. My people.
Their joy pulled Layla forward. Everything in her body hurt, but she couldn’t care less. With a few more steps, she passed beneath the finish banner. Her knees buckled, and then their arms were around her, keeping her upright. Their exuberant voices filled her ears.
“You’re amazing!”
“Oh My God, you did it!”
“I’m so proud of you, Layla!”
A sob burst out of her chest. Then another. Why was she crying? Joy. Triumph. Pain. Exhaustion. All of the above and more.
Michelle, the race coordinator, bounced over.
“Great job, number 94,” she crowed and looped a heavy metal over Layla’s head.
Her group half-walked, half-dragged her to the pop-up. In short order, Layla found herself deposited in a camping chair. Someone pulled off her shoes. Another slid her nearly empty water pack from her back. A peeled banana appeared in her hand.
But something was missing.
Someone was missing.
Layla frowned. Her brain was so fuzzy. The voices were still chattering around her. She tried to focus, tried to remember.
Then, Alyanna’s face appeared in her field of vision. “Uh, there’s some guy and a horse hanging out at the end of the parking lot. Mom says he’s your hot vet boyfriend.”
Ah, that’s right. A smile spread across Layla’s cracked lips. She shoved the banana into Alanna’s hand and staggered to her feet. She swayed but caught her balance and began to shuffle forward on her socked feet.
“Uh, she does know she finished, right?” Everly asked behind her.
“Maybe she’s going for extra credit?” Rico suggested.
“Layla, honey, why don’t you rest for a second?” her mother called.
Layla ignored them all. She looked around frantically, then caught sight of him. Prem leaned against his horse at the end of the parking lot, April’s reins loosely wrapped around a tree branch. She took all of him in, his midnight eyes, the lush black hair with its ever untamable cowlicks, the hint of tight muscle beneath his T-shirt, and the perfect fit of his jeans.
Layla began to jog. Then run on limping steps. Pain shot through her feet and legs, but she didn’t care. She had to get to him. To touch him. To kiss him.
“Um, Layla?” her sister called.
“Should we go after her?” Jax asked.
Prem pushed off the horse and walked toward her, his long strides eating up the distance between them. Layla ran as hard, as fast she could, her medal thumping against her chest. She stumbled. Her legs finally gave out, unable to carry her another step.
But he was there, catching her as she collapsed.
“I love you, too,” Layla said, wrapping her arms around Prem’s neck. “You can’t hide it from me. I see all the good in you.”
“And I see all the strength in you,” he replied simply.
Footsteps raced behind them.
“Jesus, that asshole rode in on a horse,” Rico scoffed.
“Daaaamn,” Sully groaned. “I gotta practice more guitar.”
“I gotta spring for that extra expensive salon shampoo,” Rico agreed.
Prem swung Layla into his arms. She nuzzled her face into his chest.
“You’re perfect,” Prem said.
Layla giggled. “No, I’m not. And I’ve got the pickle juice breath to prove it.”
“Still perfect, at least to me.” Prem tilted his head. “Give me some of that pickle breath.”
Layla eagerly complied. Their lips met, the finisher’s metal pressed between them. Layla’s heart couldn’t possibly grow any bigger.
The Crazy Cat Ladies whooped and whistled behind them.