Shadow Under the Starlight

18. Love

Delicately she rubbed her eyes. Hands resting beside her Layla opened her eyes only to close them again, the sudden blast of light from the curtains hurt her eyes and the drowsiness they held was not helpful.

Trying again, this time with the glasses from the nightstand on her face, Layla's eyes fluttered open — that, was definitely much better.

Her sigh from her, Layla sat up the comforter slipped off her shoulders to her thighs. An arm pressed up on the bed behind her, for support, as her right hand rested on her thigh she stared into the emptiness of her room.

She wasn't looking for anything in particular, it was a distraction, if it could be called that. Her eyes darted from the wall to the phone she was now holding or we could say gripping for dear life.

Her gaze fell on the empty side of her bed, empty and untouched just how it had been in recent months. Diverting her gaze she looked at her lock screen again reading the time and date.

Layla pursed her lips as the uncontrollable feeling of despair creeped in. Her heart felt ten times heavier and her eyes stung — as fast as they had opened Layla closed them again — she wasn't going to cry, she didn't need to — kept repeating in her mind as she squeezed them closed as tightly as she could.

Layla hated how she felt every month since then but today would mark a year, which made it painfully worse to bare — she couldn't comprehend how time moved so fast, how she was still stuck on a day like today a year ago.

Time waited for no one and she knew that, she saw that. How everything didn't stop and burn as she wish and hope, how she was drowning in emotions and overwhelmed with the constant speed she had to keep up with.

How drastically things changed — how it all changed just like that.

Hugging her knees, her phone discarded somewhere, Layla rested her head on them rocking herself lightly.

It always seemed to work when it came to calming herself, it had to work for her right now.

And it did, but she went from dreading the day from bed to dreading it behind the counter, attending to each customer that walked in. A smile with a cheerful voice yet it all felt hollow, she couldn't recognise her own voice when she spoke — it was filled with so much pretense along with how it took so much effort to smile, she hated how it.

Dismay

Was a blanket Layla woke up with today and each second it seemed to grow an extra thread, the larger it got the more she felt drowning in it — pulling her down.

But the warmth it was allegedly supposed to provide was excluded and replaced with numerous shards of glass ripping away at her heart.

It got worse as she caught sight of peculiar pair with so much resemblance that it felt like looking through a mirror of time — only dated a few years back with memories that felt were made yesterday.

All before the café. When she and her husband were beginning to explore their relationship — he had always felt like a warm big hug especially whenever he enjoyed her little things and all the big things.

Unconsciously Layla played with the ring twisting it left and right, lips pursed in a rather harsh matter in attempts to hold her tears back.

Layla knew it wasn't something she could undo, death wasn't irreversible. Yet here she was every day feeding to her own hope turned to delusion, even when he moved on in front of her.

Might have been the reason she hated the so called 'blessing' she was given at birth, seeing souls brought nothing but anguish.

That night was imprinted in her mind. It had been the two of them alone in their apartment, as he walked through the doors.

That should have been the first signs, he walked through rather than opened the door — yet she pushed it aside, dead or alive she was happy to see him even when tears rolled down her cheeks.

His sad smile as they knelt in front of eachother, brushing a few strands of her hair away. Touching her one last time as he hoped and knew he could — just the two of them.

She would not see him again, even as she strode down the street or turned in bed to his side, she knew as his touch slowly started to vanished — her pleading wouldn't help as it wasn't something he or she could stop.

"Are you okay Layla?"

Layla wiped away the tears that escaped from her cheek, turning to Sasha she forced yet another smile.

"I'm fine."

Her voice withered a bit but she still held her smile, her eyes could not pretend though as their glint was visible and a few tears still hanged from the corner of her eyes — no amount of blinking would drive them back.

Sasha frowned.

"I'll take over. You should go rest." She spoke pointing towards her office. She knew her friend was far from fine and she didn't need her to confirm it as she knew the date today.

"I'm fine Sasha."

Layla said again even as she didn't believe it herself she had to be fine, she had a moving world to match the pace.

"Sometimes the world moves too fast stubborn girl."

Sasha held onto her shoulders as she dragged her away from the counter pushing her towards her office, a break even a day off would be great for her right now.

Layla sighed submitting to defeat as she let Sasha drag her away, she would be in solitude and she was dreading that so, so, much.

§

Layla had her arms crossed as she stood in front of the now locked cafe. Despite Sasha's persistence on locking up today and walking her home, Layla refused and sent her off — she was okay, she had to be.

A sighed left her lips

She wasn't.

She had been standing alone in front of the café staring at nothing in particular as her thoughts raced. As each one tried to win the position of the thoughts that drived her insane the most.

"Watching a show?"

Turning she faced the white haired woman, in her usual black attire of black dress pants, shirt and boots with a coat on top — the only difference today had to be her rest in b***h face held a smile, a small one but it was a smile nonetheless.

Layla tried to reciprocate it as best as she could, she didn't want to make a wrong impression — so she smiled, maybe the best she had done all day.

Yet Isla saw past it — her best efforts seemed not to be 'best efforts' at all.

Her smile formed into a slight frown that Layla would have noticed if she hadn't diverted her gaze to the street.

"Home?"

With a hum as a response from Layla, the two began walking side to side, in silence.

Silence wasn't bad, not when Isla preferred it most days — but Layla wasn't silent like this and she hadn't expected her to be after their last encounter two days ago.

She was prepared to be bombarded with questions one after the other, she was actually considering answering them all in fact.

"Is ice-cream okay?"

Had been Isla words that sliced through the silence and gained Layla's attention. Stopping in her tracks like Isla she glanced at her, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Ice cream?"

"Would that help?" Isla pursed her lips staring at Layla. She silence she didn't like all that much with how Layla's expression was unreadable — maybe it wasn't her best idea after all. "Or should I just stop?"

Layla snapping out of her thoughts shook her head, a light smile on her face, this time genuine.

"Thank you Isla but I think I should pass on that."

A nod from Isla, the girls turned away staring ahead to begin their journey once again. That had been her only idea, and it being turned down she was trying to find something else.

"But." Isla turned towards her again, watching as she nervously pursed her lips right after she spoke. "—a hug." She added and Layla regretted it as soon as the suggestion left her lips, Isla's blank stare was worse than words. "Forget I said that, I'm just tired I should get hom—"

Layla stood unresponsive in a state of shock as two arms wrapped themselves around her, a bit hesitant but hugged her regardless.

Isla's slow and light back pats brought Layla out of her trance of shock. Her arms went around Isla clinging onto the fabric of coat as she rested her head on her shoulder, her face hidden.

Layla had her eyes shut as held back tears.

"I don't mind." Isla finally spoke and that had been enough to break her, her pursed lips freed as tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't know why it felt like Isla was silently giving her the go ahead to cry.

She couldn't figure out if it was the warmth the hug gave her, how kind her voice and back pats felt — or probably just how she held her — she didn't know.

But she cried and Isla didn't pull away.