Tapping his finger on the table, Rashad sat by the window watching, waiting. Layla had gone into the Coffee Cup earlier, and soon she’d be coming out. Lucky for him, her routine hadn’t changed. She still went there for breakfast on Saturday mornings. He’d parked far away so she wouldn’t see his yellow Porsche and had already paid for his coffee so he could leave and catch her as she returned home.
He’d had a lot of time to think, and he’d panicked at the thought of losing Layla again, which had caused him to make poor decisions. Lying and hiding his past from her had been the wrong moves. Since she left him two weeks ago, he walked around with a permanent headache. Every now and again the pain went away, but it always came back, like someone suffering from withdrawal. That’s exactly what being without her felt like—withdrawal.
He only slept a few hours each night, if at all. Often, he lay in bed wide awake, and to keep from going crazy, he’d get his tablet and watch a movie or sit in the living room and watch TV. He was restless and irritable, and baking—his usual go-to activity to bring him peace—didn’t provide much relief. At least the office staff benefited from the sweets he made.
He had sent a letter to his father, thanking him for the photos but reminding him he had no intention of sending him more money or keeping in touch. He hadn’t received a reply and didn’t know if he would, but he’d already instructed Liam that he should refuse any more packages that came for Deshawn Reddick, and he instructed the mail carrier not to place letters addressed to Deshawn in his box. Deshawn Reddick no longer existed. Rashad Greene had replaced him almost fifteen years ago.
His gaze snapped to a flash of pink, and he saw Layla walk down the sidewalk. He held his breath. The shock of seeing her kept him immobile for several seconds before he regained the wherewithal to act. Exiting the donut shop, he looked both ways before jogging across the street and walking up beside her.
“Hi, Layla.”
She caught her breath and stared at him in shock.
They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks, and he hated to acknowledge she looked great. Fantastic, even. Fresh-faced in gold-frame glasses and an up do with no makeup on. The pink joggers and pink T-shirt molded to her curves. She looked cute and sexy as hell, as if nothing was amiss on this fine spring morning. Meanwhile his life was like a city that had been repeatedly bombed, with nothing left behind but empty wasteland.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Rashad.”
“I know.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his chinos. “But I’m hoping to change your mind.”
“You can’t.”
She picked up the pace and averted her eyes from him. Her cheeks flushed crimson in agitation, but he couldn’t simply walk away. He’d come here with the express purpose of baring his soul.
“Would you hear me out?”
She swung to face him, lips pressed together in anger. “Why? So you can lie to me or pretend that you’ve changed yet again? Or from the look on your face, maybe this time you have a sob story that’ll make me feel sorry for you. No, I’m not doing this with you now or later. You had your chance to prove to me that you’ve changed. I was satisfied with us having sex occasionally, but you changed the dynamics of our relationship. You demanded more while holding back. I don’t have to listen to you. I said everything I needed to say when I left your condo two weeks ago.”
“I know I fucked up.”
“Yes, you did. Again.”
“Yes, again, but I have a good explanation. I need to tell you everything. It’s eating me up that you think the reason we didn’t work out is because of something you did.”
She laughed shrilly, as if he’d made the funniest joke in the world. “Oh no, is that what you think? Please, rest easy that I’m confident the reason we’re not together has nothing to do with my actions. That’s all on you. I wanted you to let me in, but guess what? I no longer care. You can go along with a clear conscience to the next woman. Maybe you’ll learn from all of this and understand you can’t keep hiding who you are. For all I know, you might be a rapist and that’s why you changed your name and won’t share your past with me.”
Rashad winced. She was much closer to the truth than she realized, and a sinking sensation swarmed behind his abs. Maybe this was a mistake. He wanted to turn and flee, but how could he, when his future was standing directly in front of him?
She might say she didn’t care, but he saw the hurt in her eyes and heard the pain in her voice. No matter how perfectly put together the package, Layla was no freer of her feelings for him than he was of his feelings for her. They were still bound together, and she loved him, or at least cared about him. That much he knew without a doubt. He could build on that.
“I only need five minutes of your time, and then I’ll leave.”
Layla vigorously shook her head. “You’re not listening, and I don’t know how else to tell you. I’m done, Rashad. Fed up. When a woman’s fed up, there’s nothing you can say or do to change her mind. I’m moving on with my life, and you should do the same.”
She moved quickly away from him and into the building, and Rashad didn’t follow. He stood on the empty sidewalk, arms hanging loosely at his sides in a sort of surrender.
He couldn’t reach her. The look in her eyes and the despondent tone all pointed to not only a lack of interest, she simply didn’t care, like she said. She might love him, but she no longer liked him. She no longer wanted him in her life, and the brutality of that rejection was worse than anything he could have ever imagined.
Layla was his life. His everything. And this time, he’d lost her for good.
Hugging herself, Layla sat on the windowsill of her loft. Tamika and Dana were there, too, seated on the comfy sofa in front of the coffee table with vegan food—something new they were trying—spread out on the table before them. She didn’t have much of an appetite because she couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with Rashad earlier.
“He didn’t look like himself,” she said to her friends.
“What do you mean?” Tamika asked, spooning vegetarian curry over the rice on her plate.
“He looked sad. I’ve never seen him like that before. I’ve seen Rashad upset, cocky, amused… Everything you can imagine. I’ve never ever seen him sad.” She didn’t want to care, but his appearance pulled at her heartstrings. She still loved him and couldn’t simply turn off her feelings like switching off a faucet.
She and her friends remained quiet for a while, and then Dana broke the silence.
“What do you want to do?”
Layla buried her face in her hands and let out a little scream. “I don’t know! I know that I don’t want to get back together with him, but I’m a little concerned about his appearance. He didn’t look well. He didn’t look like the Rashad I know.”
“Sounds like he might be going through a tough spell, possibly because he misses you…?” Dana suggested.
“And if he does? That’s not my fault. I’ve suffered, too, and I’m tired. I’m tired of being treated as if I’m not important, when he’s everything to me.” Her voice cracked, because simply talking about Rashad heightened her emotions. “Sometimes I feel like I’ll never get over him,” she said quietly.
Dana went over to the window sill and sat beside Layla. She put an arm across her shoulders. “You will. It takes time, that’s all.”
She nodded. Then she looked at Tamika. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Because neither of you are going to like what I have to say.”
“Say what you’re thinking,” Layla said.
Tamika pursed her lips. “I think you should hear him out.”
Dana sighed dramatically.
Tamika set down her plate. “Look, I’ll be the first to admit that I never cared for Rashad when you got involved with him the first time. I thought he was too slick, too suave, and when you started dating Elijah, I considered him Rashad number two, which made me uneasy. With Rashad back in your life, and based on what you said a second ago, I think you should give him another chance. Maybe not for a relationship, but at least hear his explanation. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”
“I don’t know him, Tamika. His name’s not Rashad. What else is he hiding, and do I want to know?”
“Maybe, maybe not. He came here to tell you something, and it sounds like it’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. Aren’t you at least curious to know what he has to say?”
“I don’t like this,” Dana muttered.
“Dana, I’m not suggesting she start screwing him again, but she should find out his reason for lying. If nothing else, for closure.”
Dana shook her head. “You guys know my policy. When I’m done with a man, I’m done. Closure is tricky. Closure will have you in his bed, on your back, with your legs wide open in the air, wondering how you got there.”
Tamika snorted, and Layla laughed at Dana’s pessimistic but vivid imagination.
“You laugh, but I’m serious. Forget closure and preserve your sanity. Rashad has shown you he hasn’t changed in all this time. Three years. What could he possibly say that would make a difference?”
“The fact that he’s different,” Tamika said. “Layla said so herself, that he opened up more and no longer wanted a casual relationship. Look, you can do whatever you want to do. We’re giving you conflicting advice, and you’ll have to make the final decision yourself. What would put your mind at ease? Forget closure. Call it whatever you want, but I don’t think you’ll be satisfied with simply cutting him off this time. Not now that you know he’s definitely keeping secrets, but is willing to open up and share what he didn’t before.”
Dana shrugged. “She’s right. Ultimately, the decision is yours. You know what I think, but whatever you decide, we’ll have your back.”
“Thanks,” Layla said gratefully. “I’ll think about it, but honestly, I’m leaning toward ignoring Rashad—or whatever his name is—and simply leaving things the way they are. As far as I’m concerned, nothing he could say would change my mind at this point. He’s had two chances and failed both times. It’s too late.”
Layla went over to the table and started making herself a plate.
She sincerely hoped she wasn’t lying to her friends… and to herself.