Layla

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Layla has spent the last two days meticulously planning out her death.

I’ve spent the last two days trying to find alternative solutions.

Sadly, I’ve found nothing.

She’s growing weaker. The longer she continues to take over Sable, the less sleep Sable gets. And when Layla does leave her body long enough for Sable to sleep, Sable sleeps very little. Only when the meds kick in, and even then, not for long.

Sable continues to try to escape, which has resulted in her wrists suffering even more damage. The marks are too prominent to hide. I keep them bandaged up, but I worry because Aspen and Chad are due to show back up today and we aren’t sure how to hide Layla’s wrists from them. Right now, she’s wearing one of my long-sleeved shirts because there wasn’t anything with sleeves long enough to cover her wrists in her wardrobe.

Hopefully Aspen doesn’t notice the bandages.

Hopefully Aspen doesn’t notice anything.

Layla’s legs are across my lap, and we’re mindlessly watching TV when we hear their car pull into the drive. We’re not actually paying attention to the TV. We’re just attempting to appear normal, which we’ll be attempting to do for the next twenty-four hours while Aspen and Chad are here.

Layla stands up and pulls the sleeves of her shirt down. She tucks them beneath her thumbs and heads toward the door. I follow her.

Aspen is already peeking her head inside when we make it to the foyer. I open the door all the way and take Aspen’s bag. Layla hugs her as soon as she walks through the door.

The hug catches me off guard. It isn’t a casual greeting. She hugs her tightly, like she’s missed her. I guess she has. Layla was confused the last time Aspen was here. She thought all her feelings belonged to someone else, so she probably didn’t acknowledge that the pull she felt toward Aspen was real.

“Well, hello,” Aspen says, laughing at Layla’s affection. Layla releases her, and Aspen tilts her head, looking at her curiously. “You look exhausted.”

Layla shrugs it off. “I’ve been sick for a few days. Feel much better now, though,” she lies, smiling brightly.

Chad nods his head toward me and grabs Aspen’s bag. “Please tell me you have beer. I’ve been driving twelve hours, and I need beer.” He walks toward the stairs to take their bags up to their usual bedroom, but Layla stretches her arm out, ushering Chad toward the hallway instead.

“Y’all get the downstairs bedroom this time,” Layla says. “The upstairs bathroom is broken.”

She’s lying, and I’m not sure why, but I help Chad take their things to the downstairs bedroom. Then the four of us congregate in the kitchen as Chad searches for something to drink.

“What’s for dinner?” he asks. “It smells good.”

Layla and I threw a casserole together about an hour ago. In the wake of everything happening, it was a nice reprieve. We’ve had a few moments over the last couple of days that I’ve somehow managed to enjoy, despite our circumstances. It’s hard not to let the reality of our situation remain front and center in our minds, but in the few times we’ve been preoccupied with something else, it was a welcome reminder of how things used to be between us. Before Sable.

“There’s a casserole in the oven,” Layla says. “It’s almost ready.” She looks at Aspen. “How was the trip to Colorado?”

Aspen smiles, but it’s obviously forced. She and Chad exchange a look. “Interesting,” Aspen says. “Two flat tires, one broken taillight, six hours wasted while we were stuck in a ditch.”

“Those six hours were not wasted,” Chad says to her, raising an eyebrow.

Aspen grins, and that’s enough of that conversation.“She seems different.”

I spin around at the sound of Aspen’s voice. I thought I was alone in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

“Better,” she says. “It’s like I finally have my sister back. Good call bringing her here. I think it’s helped her.”

I blow out a subtle release of air. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s definitely much better.”

“She looks tired, though. And she’s lost weight.”

I nod. “I’m keeping an eye on her. Like she said, she had the flu last week.”

“The flu?” Aspen asks with a tilt of her head. “She just told me it was food poisoning.”

Shit.

Layla and I need to make sure our lies align in the future.

I nod once. “Yeah. That too. Shitty week.” I grab my cell phone and Aspen follows me as I head outside, where Layla and Chad are.

Layla is seated at the patio table, next to a heating lamp I turned on after dinner. Chad is sitting at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. I heated the pool yesterday when we realized they were coming.

I walk over to Layla and press a kiss to the top of her head before sitting down next to her. She grabs my hand and smiles at me.