Between love and betrayal

A queen of fashion

A walking joke had come across him that morning when he wanted to enrol little Milka in nursery school. It was absurd, how could they refuse the child for such a useless excuse?

Mrs. Pilar knew she had offended Layla, it was obvious, her expression confirmed it.

—Oh Miss Delfigalo, a thousand apologies? It was not my intention to offend you. It wasn't my intention... it's just that...—. Mrs. Pilar mentioned a little embarrassed until Layla interrupted her with a loud snort.

—It's that we don't believe in divorce, and we know how difficult life can be for a child growing up without a father figure. We take all that into account,— Mrs. Pilar added.

Layla was really offended. She couldn't find the words to respond. However, it was the only nursery school where they taught German, and she was not going to miss that opportunity.

—I understand your concern about Milka's mental health, but, I assure you, my daughter has no problems with that, on the contrary, she is a very intelligent, positive child and usually adapts quickly,— said Layla, hopeful.

Milka knew perfectly well the reason for that little quarrel, and she didn't care whether her mother was divorced or not. Her eyes were full of innocence and happiness.

Mrs. Pilar looked down and watched her there, so small and kind, with those deep, intense eyes.

—I will trust you, Miss Delfigalo. We will make an exception for little Milka. I just expect her to show up for all the meetings, that's all.

Layla sighed when she heard that great news. She thanked Mrs. Pilar immensely. If she hadn't accepted, she would have to go all over the neighbourhood looking for a nearby school, and she knew for sure that there were no other institutes nearby.

Peace came the moment her signature sealed Milka's enrolment in her new school.

On the other hand, Milka was not very happy, she didn't want to be around children, she found it repulsive and unnecessary, but, all to please mum, she could only pout and feel angry inside.

—And you little one, we'll see you tomorrow for your first day of school,— Mrs. Pilar mentioned softly, as she leaned her body down a little.

Milka said goodbye politely and from there she went shopping with her mother.

There was no food in the flat, everything was empty, so Layla went to the supermarket first. She remembered exactly that big supermarket with signs everywhere, but it didn't have the typical shopping trolleys from before, so she picked up each item in her arms as she walked with Milka back home.

Upon arrival, Layla immediately ordered the groceries while preparing lunch. Milka was exhausted, she had walked a lot, but at the same time she knew a bit more about the neighbourhood where they were staying.

Evening came and Layla lay down on the corner of the bed, while Milka read a children's magazine.

She thought to herself, during the years of her career she had been fully confident in her abilities. Now, being the designer of such a big company, she was always in contact with nobility, celebrities from all countries.

They were all dying to use her designs, and perhaps that's why Francin was so angry when Milka soaked her white dress.

But, she never imagined that what had driven her out of her mind would bring her back to the place she had fled from in the first place. She simply resigned herself to doing her job, the company practically depended on her.

Layla sighed a little, laid her body down next to little Milka's and held up her hand and the emptiness of her finger, where a wedding ring used to be.

Tiredness took hold of her and in a few minutes she fell into a deep sleep.

They say that dreams often express the deepest part of your thoughts, or the things you long for most. But that was not the case for Layla.

Darkness fell over her, until she magically appeared in a small bar, sitting, elbows on the table, staring straight ahead.

Her eyes were lit up, for before her floated the vivid memory of the day her heart had been shattered, and just then Bradley appeared, like a guardian staring into her eyes.

Love hovered in the air like a thousand butterflies, but it was only an absurd dream that decided to come in an empty moment.

—Bradley, I... I... I...— Layla intoned before waking up.

Her eyes widened and her gaze fell to the ceiling. She was stunned, it had been over six years since she had dreamt of Bradley, not even when they were still husband and wife.

Milka had turned away from her when she finished her children's magazine. He saw her there, still asleep, and all he could think of was how tired she was.

—Mum, are you tired? —said Milka as she saw her mother waking up.

It was a trick question, she knew the answer perfectly well. You could see it in the dark circles under her eyes.

—Oh my child, yes, I am a little tired. But it will get better soon,— replied Layla, stroking Milka's face.

Her mother did a lot of things alone. It was obvious that she needed help. They almost didn't let her enrol in high school because her mother was single, and milka couldn't stand it.

So an idea formed in her brain: "Mom has to remarry."

Maybe for Milka that idea was monumental, and it would be the solution to her mother's ennui, but, she was just a kid, she had forgotten all the sense of romance and love that goes with it.

***

At dawn the next day, Layla woke up in a good mood, stretched her arms vigorously and got up to shower and prepare breakfast.

It was Milka's first day of school, and she was both happy and sad. After a few hours, Layla had dropped Milka off at school and taken a taxi to the company.

She felt nervous, as if she were starting from scratch again. She had put on a tight-fitting vinotint blazer, which framed her delicate curves.

Over her legs she wore a high-waisted black skirt, soft and comfortable in texture, which enhanced the length of her legs and the softness of her skin.

Her feet were adorned with a pair of black heels, in her hand she wore a diamond-encrusted watch, a gift from one of the kings she had dressed a few months ago, and finally she covered her eyes with dark glasses.

She was scared, as it was her first day, but she knew she had to keep her head up, after all, she was the head designer and a lot of people depended on her.

As she got out of the taxi, she took a deep breath. She was standing in front of a huge crystallised building. One of the tallest buildings in the city centre.

On the roof were the illuminated letters of the company's name. It was mind-bogglingly artistic and eye-catching. A sigh escaped his lips, and he proceeded to take firm steps towards the entrance.

He kept his face upright, observing every delicate detail of the building. It was astonishing in every way. Its walls were lined with paintings of monumental designs.

—Excuse me, miss. You can't go in without an appointment, do you have an appointment,— said a short woman, apparently the receptionist.

It was obvious she didn't recognise her and was merely following the protocol for which she had been hired.

Layla raised her hands and pushed her glasses away from her eyes, looked at the young woman and smiled innocently.

—My name is Layla Delfigalo, I didn't know I needed an appointment to come to my job,— she said.

The young woman was positively stunned.

—Oh dear, you are Miss Delfigalo? the chief designer? —shouted the receptionist with great excitement.

Layla didn't understand. She screamed as if a celebrity was prostrating herself before her, she just nodded with a big smile.

—I'm sorry, really, Miss Delfigalo, I didn't recognise you. I had no idea you were so young, it's unbelievable,— said the woman a little embarrassed.

—Thank you very much, I guess there's always a first time, isn't there? —Layla smiled and was really flattered by his words.

Her cheeks flushed and she turned around to enter the lift.

—How beautiful she is. I didn't think she was that young. Shame on her,— he muttered behind her back.

Layla knew perfectly well what kind of dress brought out the elegance and beauty of herself, that's why everyone's eyes were always focused on her simple and perfect appearance.

As soon as the lift stopped, she stepped out of it and entered a long, wide corridor. People stared at her, murmuring unintelligible compliments.

Everyone was mesmerised by her gaze alone. She was a walking beauty, like a siren's song.