I blink at her. “What? What do you mean?”
“Do you think maybe you’re a bit depressed?” She asks gently. “Because from where I’m standing, it sort of looks like you’re going through a midlife crisis.”
I frown. “I appreciate the concern, but this is the best my life has been in a long time. I’m not depressed in the slightest.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re almost forty years old, and you don’t have a wife. You don’t have kids. You don’t have a house. You share a flat with a couple of boys ten years younger than you—”
“Josh and Zack aren’t boys. They’re good men. And I don’t see why a ten-year age gap should stop me from being friends with someone.”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “You’re not just friends with them, Luke. You’re living in a flat with them like a student. And now you’re coming to my wedding with one of your ex-pupils on your arm.” She crosses her arms. “I’ve just told you that she’s spent the whole evening kissing my husband’s brother, and you didn’t even bat an eyelid!” I go to respond, and she cuts me off. “And it’s not just him, either. I saw her getting awfully close with Zack by the drinks table earlier. Zack Harding, Luke. A famous ex-rugby player. Do you seriously think you can compete with him in the eyes of a twenty-eight-year-old girl? Especially one like Layla Thompson?”
A bad feeling slips down the back of my throat. “What do you mean, ‘a girl like her’?”
She scowls. “You might not remember her from school, but I do. And everyone, students and staff, knew Layla Thompson to be a certain kind of girl.”
I close my eyes.
I’d assumed that Amy was unaware of Layla’s bullying in high school. I didn’t consider for a second that she might have known about it. “What does that mean?” I say carefully.
Amy sighs. “She was easy, Luke. I had girls in my office all the time, complaining that she’d stolen their boyfriends. She skipped between men almost daily, and there were plenty of rumours that she was exchanging… favours for money. She was generally considered to be the loosest girl in the school, and clearly, nothing has changed—”
“Amy,” I say sharply. “What is wrong with you?! Why would you talk about a student like that? Layla’s time in school was very difficult. We should’ve been helping her, and instead, we stood by and let her get bullied and cast out.”
Her lips quirk up. “So you do know. Let me guess. She told you it was all lies?”
I throw my hands up. “Whether they were lies or not, it’s completely inappropriate to judge an underage teenage girl on what she does in bed! She was a literal child, and you’re calling her loose?!”
She sighs. “I’m just saying that these things form patterns. If she was sleeping around then, she very well may be sleeping around now.” She presses her lips together, looking out over the lobby. “This has always been your issue. You can’t see what’s in front of you. You’re so caught up in your romantic little dream-world that you block out all of the warning signs.”
I frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking ab—”
“My parents begged me not to marry you,” she blurts out suddenly, shocking me into silence. “Begged me. My dad even promised to pay all the cancellation fees for the wedding. They knew I was making a mistake, and they were terrified it would haunt me for the rest of my life.”
I stare at her, my mouth drying out. “What? I thought your family liked me.”
“Oh, they liked you fine; you were a perfect gentleman. Kind and sweet and caring. But they liked you as a boyfriend, not a husband. They knew from the moment they saw us together that we weren’t going to work out long-term.” She looks down at her nails. “I never told you this, but the night before our wedding, I almost didn’t go through with it. I knew, deep down, that it was wrong.”
Her words hit me like a bucket of cold water to the face. For a few seconds, I flounder, speechless.
“Then why did you?” I manage eventually. “Go through with it?”
She shrugs. “I was young, and you were the sweetest guy I’d ever met. I thought I was in love with you.”
“But you weren’t,” I finish. My heart feels like it’s cracking in my rib cage.
“No. And I knew it the moment you put that ring on my finger, and I felt absolutely nothing. We were doomed before we even said our vows.”
I take a deep breath through my nose. My head is spinning. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
It was hard enough for me when our marriage fizzled out. I thought Amy and I were soulmates. I’d never even considered that we might fall apart.
But if what Amy’s telling me is true, maybe all of that love was one-sided. Was our relationship really all in my head? Am I really that stupid?
“Well,” I say finally, “for the record, I did love you. I never thought for a second that we wouldn’t make it.”
“I know you didn’t,” she says gently. “Because you see the world through rose-coloured glasses. But this isn’t a fairy tale. True love doesn’t conquer all. Open your eyes and actually look at your relationship, for once in your goddamn life.” She presses forward, her eyes hard. “Layla is young. She’s beautiful. She has a reputation, and judging by her behaviour tonight, absolutely nothing has changed. I don’t want to see you get hurt, Luke. And anyone can see that she won’t stay.”
I shake my head, trying to pull back. “I’m not listening to this—”
She grabs my arm. “Yes, you are. For God’s sake, I’m trying to help you!”
I try to shake her off, but she won’t let go.
SIXTY-ONE
LAYLA
After Josh leaves to take pictures, I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, breathing hard.
I look like a mess. My quickie with Josh did nothing to stop the heat burning through my veins. If anything, I feel even worse than before. My thin dress is sticking to my skin with sweat, and my nerves feel like they’re on fire. And the beads…
I can feel them inside me. They’re not annoying — just a heavy pressure, a deep fullness that’s just gotten worse since Josh made me come. No matter how much I shift my weight to try and get comfortable, I can feel them pressing into me.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Classical music plays over hidden speakers, soothing me slightly as I pin back the curls that Josh tugged loose. As I lean over to pump some hand cream from the dispenser, the beads shift again, sliding over one another and sending a hot pulse of pleasure through me.
I gape, grabbing onto the side of the counter and crossing my legs tight as blood rushes between my thighs.
I can’t do this. I can’t go back to the party and smile and mingle with something inside me, no matter how good it feels. I’ll go mad. I need to get back to the hotel room and take them out. Maybe leave them on Zack’s pillow as a present.
Taking a deep breath, I scoop some cold water into my hand and wipe it over the back of my sweaty neck. When I’m as cool as I’m going to get, I straighten, dab myself off, and head back into the hallway. I barely get two steps down the corridor before a low voice calls my name.
“Layla.”
I turn, jumping as Zack barrels down the narrow hall towards me. He looks… off. His collar is undone, his tie is lopsided, and his eyes are red. His ring is hanging from the chain around his neck, swaying slightly. He catches up with me and grabs at me, pulling me close, his fingers curling into my forearms. He’s breathing hard.
“Zack,” I say softly. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Fine,” he grits out.
“Did something happen? Why did you go?”
He grimaces. “Sorry. Knee was hurting.”
Concern tugs at me. “D’you wanna go back to the room?”