Between love and betrayal

Like a dagger in the heart

Layla was stunned. Mr. Martin was supposed to be her father's best friend. How could she have gotten him into such a big mess? Maybe she could cover that expense and pay those affected.

—Merle, when does my father owe these men? —Layla asked.

Merle looked at Layla with intrigue and lowered her face, she raised her voice a little and could only hear "1 million dollars", Wow! Layla didn't expect such a high sum, that was much more than her family's whole house cost, they didn't have that much.

—But what did they say after they saw him faint? —Layla asked.

She felt lost, and didn't understand how to settle such a large debt.

—They just saw him fall, and they were afraid. They left immediately, saying he would be back soon. Layla, please, we need your help. Ask Bradley to subvive us with some money,— Merle replied, that being the only idea that lit up her mind.

Layla heard her, and thought about every single thing that gnawed at her night. She was at odds with herself. Her relationship with Bradley hadn't been the best lately, even though he was a man of great principle.

Between thoughts and misfortunes, the door to the operating room opens and behind it a doctor in a long white coat, his face covered by a blue mask.

—Doctor, doctor, tell me. How is my father?— Layla asks nervously.

—Mr. Will is stable, but we have to take some precautions, after all, he could suffer another attack at any moment, and unfortunately there is nothing more we can do,— replies the tall, pale-skinned doctor.

He was tired and worried, after all, he had put a lot of effort into keeping Mr. Will safe.

When Layla and Merle heard this, they calmed down and their crying stopped immediately. Their hands clasped together, and between murmurs they thanked the entire universe in prayer.

Still unable to see Will, they had to keep waiting for him to wake up and moved him to a room where he could receive visitors. As the hours passed, Will felt better and his consciousness had returned to normal.

A tall, colourful-haired nurse approached them both and invited them into the room where Will was resting. Layla and Merle got up from the cold cluelessness and came immediately.

Layla slowly approached her father, as he in response took her hand and tried to smile.

—Father, father, father, father, you need to rest. I know you're a little sad, but you need to get your strength back,— Layla mentioned as she gently stroked her father's hand and gave him a small kiss on the fingers.

—Here, you should go and rest too. I'll take care of your father, and I'll have the phone in my hand to call you if anything else happens,— Merle exclaimed patiently.

I knew it was late, and yes, I needed my rest too. Layla nodded her face a couple of times and rested her soul on her belly. She leaned her body over the gurney and placed a soft kiss on her father's forehead.

Layla left the sad room and took a taxi home. All she could think about was her father and how she would ask Bradley for help.

When the car parked, she got out and instantly realised that her husband was still not home, even though it was late.

—Oh, ma'am, he's here. Would you like me to fix you something to eat,— Violet asks.

Layla refuses and decides she'd better wait for her husband - after all, he always came home. Nanny Violet nods in acceptance and leaves his presence.

A sigh is heard from the back of the room. Small steps towards the sofa, and a rest of his body. She couldn't find the right way to mention her father's problem to Bradley. She didn't usually bring up financial matters, much less her family's, but, this was something huge. to what almost cost her father his life.

What do I do? How do I tell him? she imagined it over and over again. Bingo! something in her lit the fuse of her thoughts, but still Bradley hadn't come home. She was anxious, she wanted to run to him, to tell him everything and beg the world to help her.

Time passed slowly, and the anxious Layla repeatedly lifted and lowered her foot off the ground, making her whole anxious body tremble. She looked out of the window and again revealed her bottom on the couch. She wanted to call out to him, but, she refused to do so. Her pride was gnawing at her heart at that moment.

An unexpected roar came from his stomach. His body begged for food, but his mind refused. She hadn't eaten so much as a boiled egg.

—Violet, violet... please make me something to eat,— said Layla.

She was thinking about food, and felt no appetite, but her stomach was rumbling, and it was no longer just her, but two of them.

Violet heard her, and immediately, with a big smile, started to prepare something. A delicious aroma began to waft from the kitchen, yet she was in another world.

After eating, she returned to the couch and continued her endless cycle of waiting, or so she thought as she decided to close her eyes for a while, until the sound of a car awakened all her senses.

Bradley had arrived home, but she immediately turned her face away.

—Bradley? Is that you?— she asked.

—Layla, what are you doing up? It's late,— Bradley replied, a certain dissatisfaction in his voice.

—I'm waiting for you. I need to talk to you,— she said impatiently and nervously.

Bradley looked at her, but, with a sketchy and cold look, he implied that it was too late for that. He seemed indifferent, unwilling even to listen to his wife's voice.

—Bradley. I'll be honest with you. My family is suffering. My father was betrayed by a person who has fled the country. My family doesn't have that kind of money. Can you help us,— Layla exclaimed quickly, as she pressed her fingers against her pillow.

Silence adorned the room. She was impatient, waiting for some word from him. It was her only chance, after all, she wasn't used to seeing Bradley like she used to.

—Jah, Layla, for God's sake, do you think money grows on trees? I'm not a bank, I don't do charity work,— Bradley addressed her, and finally a sarcastic, cynical smile.

There were a handful of daggers digging into Layla's heart. It was slowly tearing at her soul. His indifference was like feeling a sharp knife sliding hard down her throat.

—Between my father, Merle and me, we'll pay you when we get the money back,— Layla added, squeezing out all her dignity and stomping her feet until she faded completely.

Bradley made no response, didn't even look at her. He just kept his gaze distant and cold.

— Brad... Brad... brad... brad...?

He was a statue, standing there, motionless, with no feelings of any kind stirring in his soul. —For every action there is a reaction. Karma, some call it,— said Bradley.

Wow, you could feel Layla's heart breaking bit by bit. She couldn't take it in, coming from the mouth of her husband, the man who swore to heaven to love her and help her through thick and thin. The man who shared a bed with her for five years.

It was clear, Bradley didn't give a damn about her marriage. It was five years of a one-man love, where the other half lived only in the flesh, while his mind and spirit were on the other side of the world.

Layla wanted to sate her displeasure, and scream her head off, but, from his lips came without warning a simple "It's okay, rest. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this".

The pain was insurmountable, foreseen, but really hurtful. She settled on the left side of the bed, and in seconds her hands wiped away the tears that discreetly welled up in her eyes.

Perhaps her words, or the timing, but, Bradley felt a kind of guilt inside him, and he turned his gaze back to her. She stood there, motionless, like a helpless child. She seemed to have healed, but, something about her was different, enough to cause Bradley some intrigue,

There was a loud sigh as she slid to the edge of the bed and put her feet on the floor. She got up without warning and left the room.

Bradley watched her, with some intrigue, he wanted to reach out and take her arm, or better yet, apologise for his words, but, it was too late, he didn't dare, and she was already out of there.

The bright sun acted furiously and made Layla's eyes sparkle and she woke up immediately. It was still very early, not even the nanny had woken up yet. Layla took advantage of her solitude and went to prepare a specific meal. She wanted to visit her father again and bring him something better than the hospital food.

She finished, showered, put on golden slippers, crimson jeans and a baggy shirt. She was anxious, she wanted to see her father's condition in person.

As soon as she reached the waiting room, Merle was waiting for her. They both leaned back on one of the benches and made small talk. Merle excitedly wanted to know what Layla would say about her proposal to Bradley.

But, Merle's excitement was demeaning. He couldn't disappoint her with such lousy news, but, contrary to the truth, Layla merely nodded with her face, and put into words that she still couldn't talk to Bradley, but, she still planned to find him a free moment.

Perhaps Merle swallowed her lie, but muttered to herself, as she mentally debated her problems.

—And... my father, how is he,— Layla asked.

—The doctors tell me he's much better. He just needs to keep resting,— Merle said as sighs could be heard from her. —We have to pay the hospital bill, and the truth is, I...— she added. —she added.

Layla listened with concern, but at the same time, she didn't want Merle to be alone in such trouble. So, interrupting her, she simply offered to pay the bill in the future, and smiled with the biggest of her lies.

When Layla handed the food to Will, he devoured it as if his stomach was asking for something other than pudding and hospital sandwiches. He seemed exuberantly energetic. That reassured Layla.

The door to that room was open and Layla watched as people came and went through the corridors of the hoarding, sighed, closed her eyes and excused herself to her father and Merle so she could leave.

She hurried out of the room and looked for the address of the nearest bank. When he found it, he put himself on hold and made the minutes last for hours, people slow to check their accounts, but, in a faint moment, a voice, crystalline and youthful, held his attention as Francin's name snorted out of nowhere.

His heart pounded, and his gaze rose slightly. Yes, there she was, that beautiful executive with the model body just a few steps away.

Layla felt the world fall before her eyes, and turn a vibrant white, but, that girl's presence was not the most sinister thing about that day, but a man, in a dark suit and smooth skin was sitting next to her.

Yes, with a mask over his face, Bradley faithfully accompanied Francin, clasping his hands together in expectation. Nothing in the world was important, only this beautifully built and perfectly synchronised couple.

—Wow, she's very pretty, isn't she? That's Francin. The executive, or well, she was. Now she plans to go into acting and modelling. She's got a lot going for her, she's pretty and she's in good company,— says one woman to the other.

—I didn't know she had a partner, how cute they are together,— adds another woman.

A shot to the centre of Layla's head would have hurt less. How could she not have noticed? Bradley kept a pretty low profile, and didn't show himself in public, constantly avoiding him.

She was lost, senseless. You could see it in her as her feelings died, just a lifeless body in the checkout line.

Layla didn't understand, she had spent 5 years in that marriage, it always brought out the best in her. Yet Francin had left her, and gone off to fulfil his dream in another state. why then was she the bad guy in the story?

It was obvious, Bradley didn't love her, but Layla didn't want to accept that. He wasn't going to change, he would always have bitterness in his heart. How could she not understand? She smiled falsely and looked back to the front, it was her turn, the line had stopped in front of her.

She had some savings and used them to pay for the hospital and lighten Merle and her father's load. One less weight consumed her soul, but, as she returned to the ward, she noticed the weariness in Will's eyes.

He was sick, and weak. It wasn't fair to tell the truth at that moment. it would kill him.

—Daughter? —Will asked as his eyes lit up and his face regained that effervescent flush.

—Father, yes, I'm here. How are you feeling? —Layla asked, trying to hide her bitterness and unhappiness.

Will was bad, very bad, but her strength lied, and expressed in her that she had made a huge improvement.

—My daughter, I know it's a lot to ask of you, and I'm ashamed of it, but did you talk to Bradley? —Will added with a lowered face.

Layla froze at that question and looked at him stunned. She just smiled and mentioned how extremely busy Bradley has been these days, culminating with a fake "I'll tell him soon" to calm her father down.

Will was not a gullible man, the site put him off immediately. He knew something bad had happened, but he didn't have the will to bring it up, just stuck to Layla's empty words, and sounded expressive that things would get better soon.

Layla fought against herself to hold back the tears, she couldn't see him in that state and know that there was nothing she could do and that her husband wouldn't even lend her a grain of support.

She had to do more. One failed attempt was not enough. At that moment an idea occurred to her, something that had never crossed her mind before, but it was the only thing she could do for now.

With a tender kiss on his forehead, he said goodbye to his father and immediately headed for the taxi home.

—Mrs. Layla, you are back, do you want me to help you with anything,— said Violeta.

She wanted solitude, nothing else. So she asked Violeta to take the rest of the day off. With a change of face, she went to take a shower and to prepare something for dinner.

A dinner of gods, delicious aromas flowed randomly. Perfectly prepared dishes and two glasses right next to the plates. Everything was perfect, but her pregnancy was starting to fail her and nausea was rising inside her.

Tik, tok, tik tok, tik tok, tik tok. tik tok.... It played over and over again as Layla sat comfortably on the couch waiting for her husband. Time passed and the food on the table grew cold.

She kept looking at the time and there was no sound. It was really exasperating, there was no doubt about it. In the past, before midnight, I would get a text message or maybe a call from Bradley, mentioning that he would be late for some business meeting. However, everything had changed, as his interest had completely disappeared.

Sadness returned to her heart and the tears flowed softly.

Her father, her debts, her pregnancy, her marriage and, above all, Francin, all made her dizzy. Silence enlightened her, with the only sound being the small crickets behind the garden walls.

She needed to distract herself, she couldn't just lie there on the sofa, losing her strength in her thoughts. An idea, yes, why not watch a programme?

She turned on the television and boy, the news and her were not meant to be together.

"Extra, The executive and now supermodel Francin is back, but this time she's done it with her new partner un...."

She didn't hold back a second longer, her crying enhanced to an astronomical limit. She watched those black shadows on the TV. It was Bradley, no doubt. She could recognise him anywhere. After all, he was her husband, the man who had shared five years with her, the father of the child she was carrying.

She couldn't bear it, her heart was numb.

"They both just booked into the most extravagant and expensive hotel in town, they were celebrating their new promotion in modelling...."

He continued to listen to himself in the emptiness of the room. Wow, Layla was looking forward to it while he had obviously already dined elsewhere.

He immediately turned off the television, with his dignity still intact he got up from the sofa, and perched at the dining table to sample a plate of food. He wanted to keep his sanity, but anger overcame everything, and in a fit of rage he grabbed the plates and began stalking the food over the grinder, tears sliding down his cheeks.

With her hands resting on the counter, she washed the dishes over the sink and headed for her room. Prostrate on the bed, her eyes relieved and sleep overcame her.

An hour before the sun rose over the mountains, a noise invaded Layla's mind and her eyes snapped open.

—Hey, I told you not to wait up for me,— Bradley snorted as he stared at her with wide eyes.

She felt his coldness, it was always in his voice, and the way he looked at her, which made her seem dazed and desperate. Bradley couldn't stand to see her like that, he felt something different about him, congestion maybe.