Layla - Page 49

I didn’t resent him asking the question. I’d spent a lot of time talking to my brothers and friends over the last four years about our relationship, and this question had cropped up quite a few times.

Misreading my silence, he sighed loudly. “Sorry, man, that was probably a shitty question.”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’ve asked myself the same thing, and I’ve spent four years figuring out why I still feel the way I do about her and if it is a case of me just being used to telling myself I’m in love with her. It’s a good question and one that helped me make the decisions I did.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

His response made me smile.

“The answer is an honest and firm no. Our relationship didn’t just happen on a whim and a childhood crush. It grew over time and came about because of genuine and deep feelings, as well as history and the fact we’re similar in the right ways.” I paused, thinking how best to describe it. “Okay, you know the cheesy romance fate thing?”

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.

“Well, I didn’t believe in it until I analyzed my feelings for her. Where a lot of girlfriends would have issues with their boyfriends having hobbies or likes that were so different from hers, Layla let me have the time to do shit but was genuinely interested and wanted to understand it when I told her about them. I was the same with her. It never bothered me if she spent a weekend with her friends or went out with them, but I enjoyed hearing the stories she told me afterward.”

“That’s how it should be.”

“Yeah, but not every relationship has that, so when you find someone who’s capable of doing that, you have something to build on. Layla also never got jealous or insecure if girls hit on me, she just took it in her stride. Granted, neither of us liked it when it happened, but it didn’t cause arguments or tension. I think, in a way, it made us feel more secure because we knew the other one would never cheat.”

He pulled up next to an ambulance. “I’ve never understood jealousy. Like, what does it achieve?”

I opened the door to get out but said over my shoulder, “It’s a natural human reaction. Some people just don’t have the required security in a relationship to be able to switch it off if someone else finds their partner attractive. That’s not a weakness, it’s an area they can work on to strengthen the relationship if they put the necessary work into it, that is.”

Reid got out from behind the wheel and leaned on the roof of the car. “It just seems silly to me unless there are cheaters in the relationship. In that case, I get it. But in normal situations, it doesn’t make sense—a bit like holding someone’s past against them. Listen, everyone has a past, man. You go into a relationship knowing that, so why let it ruin what you’ve got together?”

I wasn’t ashamed of what I was about to tell him. “Not me, at least, outside of making out with someone in high school. It’s only ever been Layla for me.”

His eyes widened almost comically. Looking around us to see if anyone was paying attention to the conversation, he leaned farther over the car and hissed, “Shut the fuck up. No way.”

“Hand to God. Just her, only ever her.”

A bang from where they were working on the car involved in the crash got our attention for a moment, but we knew we were mainly here to ensure no other cars tried to drive past. You’d be amazed at the stupid shit people did, and that was one of the most common things that happened, even though a crew from the fire department were trying to get an injured person out of a vehicle and pass them to the paramedics to work on.

“And you don’t think you need to experience other women to make your mind up?” he asked, bringing my attention back to the conversation.

“Nope. I kept my mind open after she left, but no other woman even seemed remotely appealing.” I exhaled loudly and said seriously, “Reid, I’ve dreamt of her every night for the last four years. Staying away from her was painful and like a form of torture, but I knew she needed the time to heal and become her own person away from her family. When she came back, it felt like I could breathe again. Finally.”

Instead of looking at me like I was nuts, he nodded understandingly, shocking me. “Got a situation like that of my own, Mark, so I get it. I’ve also got good examples of how it turns out all around me, so I know it can happen.”

“All going well, we’ll be able to join the example group, hey?”

“Inshallah,” he murmured, making me smile.

“You get that notification on your phone this morning for the word of the day, too?”

Pointing at where we needed to stand to monitor what was going on and make sure the recovery was undisturbed, he shook his head and tapped the inside of his forearm, where there was a tattoo of the word.

“Nah, I got this when I was nineteen, and I realized I had a dream that I wanted to come true. I looked up online words that revolved around hope and faith because I wanted something different. One link sent me to the word ‘inshallah,’ and the meaning just resonated with me.”

“Best reason to get a tattoo,” I murmured, looking down at my arms. I’d had a couple of tattoos when Layla and I were married, but over the years, I’d gotten more—all revolving around her.

“The irony is, she has the same word tattooed on the inside of her wrist.”

“See this one?” I pointed at a piece of music on my forearm. “That’s the opening notes to Eric Clapton’s Layla.”

“How did I guess that song would be involved somehow,” he chuckled. “Is it her favorite?”

“Nope. I’ve got her favorite song as her ringtone on my phone.”

Tags: Mary B. Moore Romance
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