Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 81745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
My hand comes up, and I point at him. “Who are you?” I ask. My mind spins around and around with so many questions and thoughts. The only thing I keep asking myself is where is Layla.
“Who am I?” he asks, pointing at himself. My heart is picking up so much speed and is racing so fast I hear it in my ears as it echoes.
“Who the fuck are you?” I don’t know what I’m expecting, but I do know that I’m definitely not expecting the words that come out of his mouth, crushing me. “I’m the husband.”
Chapter 29
Layla
I wash my hands in the sink and look in the mirror. This day has gone from happy that I was going to see Miller to fucking miserable because Richard decided it would be a good time to come to town and annoy the shit out of me. I’ve been ignoring his phone calls for the past five months, and this afternoon, there he was on my stoop as soon as I got home. Acting as if we are the best of friends, which we are not.
Walking out of the bathroom, I hear the front door close, and I wonder, or actually, I hope that he took the hint to fuck off. When I walk into the family room, I see him coming back into the house. I look at him, and my insides cringe, thinking of him. “I thought you left?” I tell him, folding my arms over my chest.
“I thought we were going to dinner.” He smiles at me, and I roll my eyes. That smile that all the ladies fall for, including me back in the day.
“I believe I said fuck no,” I tell him and then look at him, confused as to why he was at the front door, and then he came back in.
“Why were you at the front door?” I ask. I hear a car door close, and then the sound of the engine starting, and it sounds as if it’s in my driveway. That can’t be. Who else would come here?
“I think your boyfriend was here,” he says. My heart sinks to my stomach, and my legs shake as I run toward the door.
Opening the door, I run to his car as he takes off. “Miller!” I yell his name as the car speeds away.
“Oh my God.” I put my hand on my stomach. “Oh my God,” I say over and over to myself. Running back into the house, I put my shoes on and grab my keys. “You need to be gone when I get back.” I run around the room, trying to find my purse.
“Now,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets, “is this any way to treat your husband?”
“Ex. Husband.” I point out. “Ex-fucking-husband.” I’m so angry that he’s here. I’m angry that he got to Miller first, and I’m angrier that I wasn’t the one who told him. That he found out from Richard.
“You know we are meant to be together,” he says, and I look around to see if I can throw anything at him. I can’t believe that I fell for his bullshit. I close my eyes, wishing today away. Wishing it was yesterday, and I’d forced myself to tell Miller the truth.
“You got what you came for,” I tell him, pointing at the papers in the manila envelope. “Now you can go back to the hole you climbed out of.”
“I was hoping we could talk,” he says, and I just laugh. “I’ve changed, Layla.” His voice goes soft, and I look at him, shocked that he would start this again. Shocked? Yes. But I don’t know why I should be surprised.
“That’s good to hear,” I say. “I’m sure your wife is going to be happy to hear that.”
“We aren’t together anymore,” he says, and I shrug. “I never got over you.”
“That’s too bad,” I say. “Now close the door on the way out,” I say, ignoring him when he calls my name. I run to my car and dial Miller at the same time. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I plead with the universe, but the call goes straight to voice mail.
“Miller, please,” I say, ignoring the tears that are now coming down. “I can explain,” I tell him, and I wipe the tear away from my cheek. “Please,” I say in a whispered plea. I make my way over to his house, calling him every minute. It goes straight to voice mail, and his voice mail’s now full of all my messages. I speed there, my heart hammering in my chest, and I pull up right as he’s taking his bag out of his trunk. He looks back at me, and I know that face, I’ve seen that face. It’s been my face not too long ago. His eyes shielded without emotion, and I can only imagine how hurt he must be.