Chapter 106 - Layla #2
Birthday cake arrived.
Someone took terrible pictures.
Someone insisted on retaking them.
Chloe complained about her angle.
I told her no angle could repair attitude.
She told me to die.
I almost said—
Again?
Stopped.
Good save.
Layla was beside the celebrant in one picture.
Then moved back.
No attention-seeking.
No attempt to dominate the room.
She helped distribute cake when the server got overwhelmed.
Collected empty plates near her because they were in the way.
Remembered who said they didn't want frosting.
Small things.
I noticed.
Not because I had a system.
Because she was there.
By the time people started leaving, Chloe was talking to someone near the entrance.
I stood beside the table, checking whether I'd left anything.
Phone.
Wallet.
Keys.
Dignity.
Mostly present.
Layla picked up her bag.
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah."
"Same."
We walked toward the entrance together.
Not planned.
Just same direction.
Outside, Chloe was still occupied.
The celebrant was saying goodbye to three people at once.
Layla looked toward the parking area.
"You drove?"
"Yeah."
"Same."
Then—
"Nice meeting you."
There was no reason the sentence should've felt unfinished.
Still—
"Yeah. You too."
She nodded.
Then took one step.
I could let her leave.
That would be normal.
Perfectly normal.
We had one conversation.
Nice dinner.
Done.
Maybe we'd meet again through Chloe's friend.
Maybe not.
No obligation.
No tragedy.
No cosmic marker.
No reason to force anything.
I knew how to leave good things alone.
R4 had taught me that.
But this wasn't an acquisition.
This wasn't me trying to possess something because I could see potential.
This was simpler.
I wanted to talk to her again.
Current want.
Current person.
Current information.
So—
"Layla."
She turned.
"Yeah?"
"Can I get your number?"
Straight.
No procurement language.
No due diligence.
Growth.
Her expression changed slightly.
Not shocked.
Maybe pleased.
"Sure."
She took out her phone.
Then paused.
"For business?"
I stared.
"No."
She smiled.
"Good."
I laughed.
"That would've been terrible."
"A little."
We exchanged numbers.
Simple.
No dramatic hand touch.
No lingering eye contact that lasted seventeen years.
Just phones.
Names.
Contact saved.
Layla
No emoji.
No category.
No notes.
I almost added—
met at birthday dinner
Then stopped.
I was not building a CRM.
Human being.
Relax.
Chloe appeared exactly when Layla walked away.
Of course.
She looked at me.
Then at Layla.
Then back at me.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You have eyes."
She smiled.
"I do."
I started walking toward my car.
Chloe followed.
"Did you get her number?"
I stopped.
Turned.
"How do you know?"
She laughed.
"Oh my God."
"Chloe."
"You did."
"Maybe."
"LIA."
"Volume."
She lowered her voice.
"You did."
"Yes."
Her eyebrows rose.
Then she nodded.
"Okay."
I waited.
No screaming.
No—
AYIEE.
No aggressive matchmaking.
Good.
Then she asked—
"Do you like her?"
"I met her three hours ago."
"That wasn't my question."
I thought.
"Conversation was easy."
Chloe nodded.
"Okay."
"That's it."
"Okay."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Why are you being normal?"
She looked offended.
"I can be normal."
"Historical evidence disagrees."
"Fuck you."
There.
Better.
At home, Sofia was awake.
Of course.
She looked up when I entered.
"Late."
"It's ten."
"Late for lola."
I stared.
"Who told you?"
"You."
Right.
Terrible.
I put my keys down.
"Kumain ka?"
"Yes."
"Good."
I paused.
There it was again.
"Everybody says good."
"Because good."
"Terrible vocabulary."
She shrugged.
I started toward the stairs.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
No.
Not unknown.
New contact.
Layla:
Home safe?
I stopped.
Sofia noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You stopped walking."
"Phone."
"Obviously."
I looked at the message.
Simple.
I replied—
Lia:
just got home. you?
A minute later—
Layla:
home too
Then—
Layla:
thanks for making meetings sound criminal. i feel validated
I smiled.
Lia:
meetings without agenda are criminal
Layla:
strong stance
Lia:
i have principles
Layla:
apparently
Sofia was still looking at me.
I looked up.
"What?"
"You're smiling."
"I smile."
"Sometimes."
"Go away."
"This is my house too."
"Small child."
"I'm twenty-one."
"Baby."
She shook her head.
"Lola."
I went upstairs.
Layla and I kept messaging.
Not until three in the morning.
Thank God.
I had standards now.
Mostly.
Just another twenty minutes.
Work complaints.
The restaurant's ridiculous house-cut potatoes.
She had noticed too.
Layla:
they were fries
Lia:
THANK YOU
Layla:
you looked personally offended
Lia:
because language matters
Layla:
science education?
I stared.
I had apparently mentioned my degree at some point.
Lia:
unfortunately
Layla:
why unfortunately
Lia:
long story
Layla:
okay
No—
tell me.
No pushing.
Just okay.
I stared at that for a second.
Then typed anyway.
Lia:
i graduated then decided i didn't want to teach
Layla:
then good you figured it out before forcing yourself to do it for ten years
I paused.
That answer was so simple.
No wasted-degree speech.
No shame.
No—
But why study four years?
Just—
good you figured it out.
Lia:
you are very reasonable
Layla:
sometimes
Lia:
suspicious
Layla:
go to sleep
I looked at the time.
10:48.
Rude.
Correct.
Lia:
bossy
Layla:
old people need sleep
I froze.
Then laughed.
Hard.
Lia:
CHLOE TOLD YOU
Layla:
told me what
Lia:
nothing
Layla:
goodnight lola
I stared at the screen.
Traitors.
Everywhere.
Lia:
goodnight
I put the phone down.
Then picked it up.
No.
Enough.
Sleep.
I lay in bed.
Twenty-three-year-old body.
Far too many years in my head.
A business I was deliberately making easier.
Friends I was deliberately saying yes to.
A family that still looked offensively young.
And now—
Layla.
I didn't know what she would become.
That was important.
I had no dead-life version of her in my head.
No old relationship to compare.
No list of preferences.
No erased fights.
No memory of how she took coffee.
No knowledge of what she'd look like at forty.
Sixty.
Eighty.
Nothing.
For once, memory gave me absolutely no advantage.
I only knew what current Layla had given me tonight.
Warm.
Grounded.
Funny in a quiet way.
Organized.
Independent.
Not particularly impressed that I owned a business.
Asked if I liked it before asking how successful it was.
Hated traffic.
Hated meetings without agendas.
Remembered who didn't want frosting.
And wanted to talk to me again.
That was enough.
More than enough, actually.
No optimization required.
I smiled.
Then caught myself.
"Okay."
Calm down.
One dinner.
One number.
One easy conversation.
Nothing had to happen.
But something could.
Current information.
Current choice.
Tomorrow still unwritten.
I turned off the light.
My phone stayed face-down on the table.
For once, I didn't need to know where this was going.
I just wanted to talk to Layla again.
That felt surprisingly nice.