Leif
The apartment is empty. I stare at the bedroom closet, feeling a black void open up inside me.
She left. After she told me she wouldn’t run away. After she promised.
Why? Where did she go? What the hell happened? I pull out my phone and call her for the thousandth
time, and I’m sent straight to voicemail once again. What the fuck is going on? What happened tonight?
She left she left she left. My vision goes blurry, the past melding with the present. I gave Layla
everything. My home. My heart. My family. And then she walked away.
No. I’m not going to let that happen. Rushing back to the kitchen, I look for something—
anything—that will tell me what’s going on. There’s no note, no clue. My heart pounds and my hands
shake as I open drawers and cupboards, not sure what I’m looking for. I lean against the counter, closing
my eyes, trying to figure out what the hell happened tonight.
I spoke to my father. I learned that my parents approve of Layla. I realized that I love her...
And she left. She left. Just like Abby. She wormed her way into my life, made me care about her, and
decided to smash my heart to pieces—why? Nothing makes sense.
Sucking in a hard breath, I stalk back to the hallway. I throw open her sister’s room, seeing an unmade
bed and an empty closet. The second bathroom has empty drawers and a distinct lack of potions and
creams and female detritus that used to litter every horizontal surface.
The library is cold and empty. By the time I’m back in the master bedroom, I can’t hear myself think.
I can barely breathe, and I can’t make sense of any of this.
Why would Layla leave? Was she playing me this whole time? Was she stealing from me? Taking
advantage of me? Is this some sort of elaborate joke?
But she didn’t take anything. Was she trying to make a fool of me? Of my parents? Was she spying
for a competitor? What the hell is going on?
I call her again. No answer. Swearing loudly, I throw the covers off the bed, open the nightstand
drawers, toss the pillows and the mattress.
Nothing. I scream, throwing a pillow against the window. I wish I could smash it to pieces and watch
the shards fall down to the street below.
Whywhywhywhywhy? When my phone rings, it startles me so badly I jump. My father’s name is on
the screen.
“Dad,” I answer. “I can’t talk.” “Where did you go? We’re about to do speeches.” “Layla’s gone.
She...” I stare at the empty room, the bare hangers in the walk-in closet. This is a joke, right? She played
some elaborate prank on me. This is some kind of payback for a crime I committed in my past.
“What do you mean, gone?” “I mean my apartment is empty. She’s not here.” “Where did she go?” “I
don’t fucking know!” The words explode out of me, and I have to close my eyes and suck in a de ep
breath. “I have to go. I’m going to check her old apartment and her grandparents’ place.”
“Okay. I’ll let your mother know. We’ll do the speeches without you.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I just—I need to find her.” “You will.” His voice is calm, and I try to inhale that
feeling into my lungs.
It doesn’t work. I hang up, hands shaking, and gently close the door to the closet. Resolve solidifies
inside me, along with an anger so strong it makes me feel like I’m floating outside my body.
I’m going to find Layla, and I’m going to make her explain herself.
If she’s punishing me for something, I want to know what it is. I’m not letting yet another woman
walk away from me without explanation. I’m not going to be left out in the cold on my own. I’m not
going to let someone do that to my daughter all over again—especially not when Isla is old enough to
remember.
This is not going to happen again.