THEBILLIONAIREAND CLASSMATE
884 Words
Chapter 22: The Words She Never Wanted to Say
Khalid didn’t leave.
He sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might give him the answers.
Layla stood across the room, arms crossed, silent.
“Layla…” he finally said, “I deserve to know. I deserve to be in his life.”
She shook her head slowly. “You’re not the only one who deserved something.”
Khalid looked up, confused. “Then why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you trust me?”
Her voice cracked — but her back stayed straight. “Because I didn’t want to be that woman, Khalid.”
“What woman?”
“The one everyone whispers about. The one they call a mistress.”
His eyes softened, but she continued.
“You had a fiancée. The gala. The photographers. The public eyes. What do you think they’d call me? Just another girl who slept with the boss and tried to trap him?”
“I never—”
She cut him off, her voice stronger now. “You didn’t fight for me. You said ‘okay’ when I walked away. You let me go, and you let her walk in.”
Silence.
Then she added softly, “So I chose silence. I chose peace. I chose to protect my son from being anyone’s scandal.”
Khalid looked down, speechless.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Now you know. I’m not keeping him from you. If you want to see him… come once a week. No overnight stays. No surprises. Just one hour a week.”
He looked at her — heart broken, mind racing.
“One hour a week?” he whispered.
“That’s all I’m willing to give right now,” she said. “For his sake. And mine.”Chapter 23: One Hour a Week Turned Into More
He came every Wednesday.
Just like she allowed.
One hour.
At first, he sat quietly on the floor, building blocks with Isa. The little boy was shy, then curious, then giggling every few minutes.
Layla stayed in the kitchen, pretending to do dishes — but listening to every laugh, every gentle “Good job, champ,” that came from Khalid’s lips.
Week by week, the boy grew comfortable.
And so did Khalid.
One evening, as Layla handed Isa his bedtime milk, Khalid said quietly, “I ended my engagement.”
She froze.
“What?”
“I ended it. Months ago, actually. Before I knew about Isa.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because I couldn’t marry someone while I was still dreaming about someone else.”
She stared at him, unsure if she wanted to believe that.
Then, before he left, he smiled gently and said,
“You look tired. Still beautiful, though.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flirt with me, Khalid.”
“Can’t help it. Been holding it in for a year.”
Her lips curled into a reluctant smile, then faded. “You can’t just walk back into my life and act like nothing happened.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to build something new. Something real. This time, I’m not letting go.”
And with that, he left — the door clicking softly behind him.
She stood in silence.
Isa was already asleep.
But her heart… was very much awake.
Chapter 24: His Name Was Jealousy
It happened on a Friday evening.
Layla was wrapping up files in her office when Khalid showed up unexpectedly. He didn’t knock — he walked straight in, closing the door behind him.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with your CEO,” he said flatly.
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I saw the photos. The charity event. The smiles. The way he looked at you.”
Layla stood slowly. “You’re watching me now?”
He ignored the question. “Layla, I’m Isa’s father. I’ve been patient. But I could go to court. You know that, right? If I wanted full custody—”
She stared at him, stunned.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m just saying,” he said, voice low, “maybe if we got married, this wouldn’t be so complicated. I’d be in his life fully. Legally. Permanently.”
Silence.
Her eyes narrowed, voice cold: “So you want to marry me because you're jealous of my boss?”
“No,” he snapped, then paused. “Okay— yes. Maybe part of me hates the idea of another man raising my son. Or touching the woman I—”
“Stop.” Her voice was sharp now. “You don’t get to own me, Khalid.”
“I love you,” he said.
She laughed bitterly. “You don’t use court threats on people you love.”
He took a step closer. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just— I want my son. And I want you. And I hate seeing anyone else near either of you.”
Layla grabbed her purse. “Then grow up. Be a man Isa can respect. Not one who throws legal threats when his ego hurts.”
She brushed past him, opening the door. “And next time, knock.”
- Writer
