Chapter Fourteen
Ryder
There was a pile of money sitting on Layla’s bed. Big bundles of fifties and hundred-dollar bills. I’d never seen so much money in my life. Lilly was leaning up against the pile like it was no big deal. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to her. I had no idea what this little stuffed bear might have seen during its travels with a drugged-out girl. Speaking of, where was Layla? I hadn’t seen or heard from her since last night when I’d yelled at her. I still felt bad and wanted to apologize. Rejecting her so harshly wasn’t fair. I should have let her down easy.
Pulling out my phone, I sent her a quick text. Maybe she’d gone out for coffee. She seemed to like that coffee place downtown. Whenever she came back from there, she always had a smile on her face too big to hide. I hoped she was there. Maybe she’d bring back a bagel or a breakfast sandwich. My mouth watered just thinking about it.
Shrugging, I decided to ignore the pile of money for now. I didn’t want to risk touching it in case it was stolen, but I didn’t want to give it to the police until Layla had a chance to explain. I didn’t want to get her in trouble.
I played a few chords on my guitar after taking my daily dose of meds. It occurred to me that I could experiment with missing them. For all the good the meds did, I was aware they sometimes could cloud my real feelings. Skipping a few doses could give me the time I needed to sort out my feelings for Layla. I loved her. But did I love her or just the idea of her?
It wasn’t until months of dating Chelsea that I had realized I had only been in love with the idea of her. She’d convinced me she’d become little Suzy Homemaker after she moved in. What I got in reality was a manipulative woman who convinced me to go off my meds and party all night.
I’d been drunk without ever touching a drop of alcohol. At least I think I didn’t drink. I couldn’t be sure. Quitting my meds cold turkey had caused a month long manic episode. I didn’t know up from down. A month-long party sounds fun but waking up from it was scary. I couldn’t really remember what I had done during that time. I remembered certain things like sleeping around and driving to New Orleans in Chelsea’s car on no sleep. Maybe skipping my meds wasn’t such a good idea. It got me in trouble, more trouble than it was worth.
How did other people have relationships? That part of my brain obviously didn’t work right. Having an easy, normal relationship did not compute.
Being with Layla was easy. I was scared of easy. Whenever things were easy, I would start to overthink things. My brain would tell me I was doing something wrong, or that I didn’t deserve to be happy. Layla’s heart condition also scared me. Was loving her worth it if I could lose her at any moment? My brain screamed, ‘No, push her away before you could get hurt’ while my heart was screaming ‘Yes, it is’.
Her drug issue was a problem as well. I had seen her detox so I believed her when she said she was clean, but the pull of addiction was powerful. How long would she stay sober? She had refused to go to any meetings and talking about rehab or therapy was out of the question. Ironic, considering all the money on her bed. She clearly had the means to pay for either.
I sighed as I set my guitar down. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and I was supposed to eat with my meds. Scrambled eggs sounded good. Melting some butter in a pan, I whisked six eggs together with some milk and plenty of cheese. Layla liked cheese.
Letting the eggs set, I texted Layla. Breakfast lunch in twenty? Plenty of cheesy goodness. And I cooked eggs :)
I smiled. That would make her laugh. She had such a pretty laugh. I was falling in love. Or maybe I had already fallen. Now I was in shock from my injuries, or high on pain meds in the hospital. Either way, I didn’t want the feeling to end, no matter how anxious it made me. I wanted to feel again. If it ended badly, it was my own damn fault. I didn’t want to hide anymore. Sure, it hurt when it was all over, but I needed Layla in my life. She was worth the pain. I didn’t want her to get hurt, but she wanted me so she knew. She’d signed up, hadn’t she? I told her things could get messy.
Scraping the fluffy, delicious eggs into a separate bowl, I drummed my fingers on the table impatiently. It had been ten minutes. Layla still hadn’t answered my text. She was usually so fast, no matter what she was doing. My overprotectiveness was showing. I shook my head.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said out loud to myself. As if Layla heard me, my phone dinged with an answer.
Sorry. Can’t make it. We’ll do brunch some other time.
Brunch? Layla never called it brunch. She always said breakfast lunch, even while texting. Something was wrong.
My fingers shook as I typed. Images of her laying bloody in an alley somewhere flashed through my mind. Where r u? I can meet u there.
Ding, a few minutes later. No. Stay where u r. Not hungry, don’t feel well.
I focused on breathing steady. Something was definitely wrong. WHERE R U????
This one came almost at her usual pace. Just stay away from me.
Layla, I’m sorry about last night. Tell me where u r. Please.
My heart was in my toes. I held my breath as I waited for an answer. I was dizzy before I realized I needed to breathe. My breath left my lungs in a woosh and I was afraid. I was afraid Layla was angry. I was afraid I’d screwed everything up. I was afraid Layla was dying of a heart attack.
Grabbing a shirt and shoes, I dashed out the door. A strong, confusing urge made me go back and grab Lilly before I opened the front door. I had no idea why, but something was telling me I needed that bear right now. Layla loved her. It was the only thing I’d seen have any value to her. It would make her feel safe once I found her. Maybe that was why my brain was telling me to take it with me. I just hoped I’d find her fast. I needed to hear her voice. Make her laugh. Even yelling would be better than seeing her on the ground again. I never wanted to see my strong, independent friend that helpless again. I didn’t want to feel that helpless again. It would break me.
I couldn’t be shattered again. I didn’t have it in me.