Ezra's POV
The trip back to my place was silent as a mouse. But this silence was not of that discomfited kind. It was heavy.
Now and again, I would look at Layla, who sat beside me. When she met my eyes for a second, she would quickly take them away. Something was burning under our skins that wasn't spoken and loud enough in our gazes.
Getting home, the driver helped me out. Layla immediately came rushing to my side, slipping her hand through mine as we climbed the steps toward the front door.
My body still had some slight aches, but mostly, the stitches had healed. Still, she hovered around, as though I might crumble at any moment.
"I am not broken," I said softly.
"I know," she answered, "but I am still going to be here."
It threw me. The door swung shut behind us
