Chapter 27

Leila

Leila awoke to the smell of baby powder and the soft drone of a humidifier. She opened her puffy eyes and squinted against the bright light streaming through the plantation blinds of a nearby window. She felt disoriented, wondering exactly how and why she was here. She slowly sat upright, stretched, and looked around her.

Now I remember, she thought with a shudder.

Leila had fallen asleep in the nursery, having fled here soon after Evan had left their bedroom last night. She hadn’t wanted to be in the bedroom when he returned—if he returned. He had stalked out of there, mumbling about killing someone. She didn’t know who. He’d looked unhinged—his face was a billboard of anger, utter humiliation, and pain. She didn’t know if Evan would ever come back. Either way, she didn’t want to be there if he did.

She’d crept down the hall to seek the comfort of her baby’s company and the quiet of this serene space. As she sat in the dark, replaying a mental video of what had happened that night on an endless loop, she’d started to cry all over again. She wept silently for who knows how long before finally tumbling into a restless sleep in the pink glider next to her daughter’s crib.

Leila now glanced to her side and saw that Angelica was still slumbering on her back. One little arm was up in a permanent wave, as if she were saying “Hello” to someone in her dreams. Her tiny lips were parted. She whizzed softly.

Leila eased to her feet, careful not to make so much noise that she’d wake Angelica. She leaned over the crib and gazed at her daughter.

Mommy messed up, honey, she thought forlornly. I messed up so bad!

That night with Dante in his hotel room hadn’t been done out of spite or revenge, despite Evan’s angry insistence. Leila had been willing to do almost anything to get Evan out of jail, including have sex with a man whom she utterly despised. But Charisse—Evan’s conniving ex-wife—had beaten her to the punch. She’d spread her legs for the likes of Dante and gotten Evan off the attempted murder charge, something Leila, regretfully, had been unable to do. Charisse’s devotion had earned Evan’s forgiveness and unwavering loyalty, despite what Charisse had done to both him and Leila in the past. Meanwhile, Leila’s devotion remained ignored.

She had wanted to hurt Evan like she’d been hurt when she found the text message from Charisse. She wanted to make him feel the same agony she’d felt for the past seven months, wondering what would happen to him and their family. The hateful words had leaped from her lips without a thought.

“I should’ve fucked him, too, when I had the chance! Stupid me . . . All I did was jerk him off!”

Even now, she cringed at the memory.

Leila wished she could take it all back: what she’d said to Evan and what had happened after it. But she couldn’t take it back; mistakes like that were irrevocable. Now her marriage and her life were in shambles.

She reluctantly turned away from the crib, tiptoed across the room, and opened the nursery’s door. She couldn’t hide in here forever. She had to face the reality of what she’d done.

Leila quietly stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her.

“Hey, you’re up early!” someone shouted, almost making her jump out of her skin.

She turned and found Michael striding toward her.

“Glad I caught you! Ida and I were just packing up the last of our stuff, and we were wondering if we could . . .” He paused when he drew closer. He narrowed his green eyes at her. “Damn! What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly, pushing back her tangled, matted hair. “N-nothing happened.”

He was still looking her up and down. She knew she probably looked horrible. She was still wearing her dress from last night, though it was now wrinkled and soiled with her sweat and tears. She hadn’t seen herself, but she was certain her lipstick was smeared and she had a bad case of raccoon eyes.

Still, she felt no need to explain her appearance—especially to the likes of Michael. It was her business.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” He slowly shook his head. “You look like you just stumbled out of an earthquake,” he said.

Leila didn’t answer him but instead shoved past him and headed back down the hall to her bedroom.

“Being the replacement wife of a rich guy isn’t all you thought it would be,” he called after her, making her come to a stop and whip around to face him. “Are you starting to wonder now if you should’ve taken me up on my offer?”

“You mean your bullshit offer of friendship?”

“It wasn’t bullshit, Leila. I don’t offer friendship to just anybody. I’m very particular about who I let into my inner circle. You should be flattered.”

“Well, I’m not. And no, I don’t regret rejecting you! Even if my marriage was on its last leg, which it isn’t,” she hastily added, “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life and never have sex again than be ‘friends’ with you.”

He shrugged as she turned to head back down the hall. “Your loss.”

“Go back to trolling the nursing homes for your hookups, asshole,” she said, making him laugh.

She then heard him open the door leading to Ida’s bedroom. “I’m back, baby!” he called out to Aunt Ida. “I couldn’t find the thing you wanted, but I’ll try again later,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Leila peeked into her bedroom door a minute later to find their bedroom empty and in the same chaotic state she had left it the night before. She quickly redid the bedsheets and removed the pillows from the floor. She returned her shawl to the closet and took off her torn and shredded dress before tossing it into the wastebasket. She then entered the shower and washed the sweat and tears of last night off her skin.

When she returned to her bedroom twenty minutes later, she felt clean, though not renewed. She glanced at the clock on her dresser table. It was after eight a.m. and Evan still had not returned. She dressed, careful this time to wear an outfit that covered her bruises, and went back to Isabel’s bedroom to wake her up, then the nursery to wake up Angelica. For the rest of the morning, even as she spooned oatmeal into Angelica’s mouth and admonished Isabel to clean up her room, she kept an eye out for Evan. She was nervous at the prospect of another volatile or even strained encounter with her husband, but eager to get it over with.

Couples fight, she told herself. Couples sometimes even say and do awful things to each other that they are ashamed about later, but it doesn’t mean we can’t make this better.

She could humble herself, and so could Evan. They could even go to counseling if need be! She loved him enough to be willing to try to make it work.

But she didn’t run into Evan that morning or that afternoon. She checked his study and didn’t find him there. She checked the Olympic-size pool in the east wing where he sometimes swam when he was under stress, but he wasn’t there, either. She even checked the guesthouse, but Evan was nowhere to be found. She tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. She hung up before the phone line went to voice mail.

By dinnertime, Evan still wasn’t back at the mansion. She was really starting to worry.

“He’s probably just at the office,” her mother said in between bites of shrimp and couscous. “You know how he is.”

“I called the office, Mama,” Leila said tightly as she wiped the puréed carrots from Angelica’s chubby chin. “He didn’t answer.”

Her mother shrugged and ate another spoonful.

She knew Leila was worried about Evan, but she didn’t know why. She hadn’t told Diane about what had happened last night—and she didn’t plan to tell her, either.

“He’s probably just up to his eyeballs in work, honey. I wouldn’t worry so much.” She glanced at Leila’s sweater. “You’re probably so anxious because you’re hot! Don’t you know it’s ninety degrees outside? Just looking at you is making me sweat!”

Leila didn’t reply, only adjusted her sweater on her shoulders. She wouldn’t take it off. It was the only thing she could find in her summer wardrobe that covered her bruises.

By the time she had kissed Isabel good night and put Angelica to bed, she was sure her newly minted marriage was over. Maybe Evan had gone to Charisse’s condo. Maybe he had sought the comfort of his ex-wife now that his new marriage had turned into such a catastrophe.

No, she told herself, Evan wouldn’t do that.

But a lot had happened lately that she’d never expected. She couldn’t say anything for sure anymore.

Leila walked into her bedroom, feeling miserable and at a loss for what to do next. She raised her head as she shut the door behind her and began to remove her sweater. She halted mid-motion.

“Ev!” she shouted in surprise.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed and his hands linked in front of him, as if he had been patiently waiting there for her this whole time. When he heard her voice, he looked up. She rushed across the bedroom toward him.

“Where have you been, baby?” she cried. Her yearning for him was quickly replaced with relief. “I haven’t seen you all day! I was so worried about you!”

She fell to her knees in front of him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The anxiety of the day and anguish of yesterday finally overwhelmed her and she started to weep.

He didn’t respond at first to her tears or her touch. Gradually, Evan turned to her and wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry on his shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” he whispered against her ear.

But was it okay? Could they go back to what they had been before what had happened last night? She could tell by his demeanor and body language that something had changed. She eased back, slowly raised her head, and gazed into his eyes. “I was . . . I was so scared you weren’t coming back. I thought I’d pushed you too far. I’m so sorry, Evan!”

“No, I’m sorry for what I did to you . . . for how I hurt you. I couldn’t stand to look at myself. I had to get out of here.”

“Where’d you go?”

He took a deep breath and broke her gaze. He stared at the dresser in front of him, but she could tell he was looking past it. He was lost in thought.

“Where’d you go, Ev?” she asked again, bracing herself for what she considered the worst answer: that he had spent the night with Charisse, that Leila’s anger and deception had pushed him into his ex-wife’s arms. But he didn’t give her the answer she’d expected.

“I went to kill Dante,” he said bluntly. “I went to kill him with my bare hands.”

Her blood ran cold. “What?” She didn’t know she had pushed him that far. She slowly shook her head. “You don’t mean that. You wouldn’t . . . you wouldn’t do that. That’s not you!”

“Yes, it is. It’s always been me, Lee. Like father, like son. I have the same capability to hurt and to kill just like Dad did. I’m not going to deny it anymore.” He held up his hand to stop her when she began to disagree. “Let me finish! I have the capability to do it, but it doesn’t mean I have to do it. I realized that last night.”

He released her and held her hands in his own. He squeezed them tight.

“I wanted to end him, Lee. I wanted to finally end this shit between him and me once and for all—and I would have . . . until Bill stopped me. He told me the truth: that I wouldn’t just be ending Dante’s life but throwing away mine, too . . . everything I’ve ever wanted, that I ever had. I would be giving up on myself and on us. So I had to think about it . . . really think about it. I told him to drive me to my office, and I spent most of the night awake, thinking about everything that’s happened in the past three years. I thought about how Dante and I have been circling each other like fighters in a ring. He punches. I punch back. And we dance and we dance, round after round.” He shook his head. “He’s tried over and over again to destroy me, and I thought last night he’d finally done it, but then I’d realized that the only person who was capable of destroying me is me.

“He cheated with Charisse and put the final nail in the coffin that was my marriage, but he freed me to finally be with you. He lied and had me sent to prison. That month away from all of you reminded me just how important you are to me. You were willing to have sex with a man you despised just to get me out of jail.”

At that she flinched. She tried to pull away, but he held on tighter to her.

“I know you weren’t betraying me, Lee. You thought you were proving your devotion. I get it now. I get so many things I didn’t realize before, baby. I’m not angry at Dante anymore. That shit is wasted energy. I pity him because he’s so blind with rage that he can’t see the time he’s wasting, but I can. I’m not going to waste my time anymore. I love you. I love our family. If it means putting this feud with Dante behind me, I will. If it means cutting off ties with Charisse, so be it. I am devoted to you and . . . and I want to be with you—if you’ll still have me.”

She started to weep again, this time with relief. She threw her arms around his neck. “Of course, baby! Of course!”