Page 146 of Broken Brothers

“I’m sorry, Layla.”

Her eyes, even with nothing more than a single lamp lit, seemed to water with such clarity it was as if one could see a rainstorm approaching from the top of the mountains.

But before the tears could fall, she stood up, walked back to her bedroom, and closed the door, not quite a full slam, but definitely not a gentle tug, either.

I collapsed into the couch, placing my arm over my eyes as I tried to figure out a way out of this.

The biggest problem, however, was that I wasn’t sure which way I wanted to exit—the way of love, or the way of declining her.

And what had just happened tonight, what had just done down between us, was not going to make things any clearer. If anything, the confusion had only doubled or tripled because of my true but completely maddening answer.

I didn’t know.

60

Ican’t say I slept that well that night, but I can definitely say that it beat the hell out of sleeping on the streets. I woke up with a crick in my neck and a dull ache in my lower back, but it beat the wind chill of the streets, the honking of taxi cabs, and the obnoxious behavior of passing strangers.

Admittedly, I could only guess at what it meant to actually sleep on the streets of New York City. But just having come so close to it and being able to all but taste the feeling of what it involved… maybe it would do some good for Edwin and Morgan to have to experience such a thing. Maybe it would humble them just a little.

Too bad that’ll never happen. They’re too rich, too buffered from ever having to do that. You’re too different, Chance Givens. You’ll never get that chance.

I slowly rose from the couch, trying to get the various aches and stiffness out of my body. It got a little bit better, although I was fully aware that this feeling was going to stick with me for at least the rest of the day. I suppose this was the minor price that I paid for not sleeping with Layla.

And then I heard the price that she was paying.

Just as I was about to pass by her door en route to the kitchen, I heard soft sobbing on the other side of the door. Against my better judgment, I moved to it and pressed my ear up to her door, listening.

She wasn’t saying anything, but she definitely hadn’t been sniffling because of allergies or some other bullshit reason I tried to tell myself. She had been very serious and very honest about her love for me. There was no escaping the culpability I had in this situation, and how much of it was because of my shirking the question.

Except, no, I hadn’t shirked the question. I really didn’t know the answer. If she emerged with a bloody knife in her hand and the corpse of my brother on the bed, demanding an answer before she put me there with him… if I were to answer honestly, I’d probably have to say…

Yes?

The fact that the answer came to me as it had shocked the hell out of me. I had thought I’d say no when I cornered myself into giving such an answer, but instead, I came out with the strongest indicator yet that when things settled down, I wanted to try things with Layla. That seemed rather dangerous.

All I had said in the previous few months were yes. Yes to sleeping with the investor’s “daughter.” Yes to sleeping with one of my clients. Yes to sending dick pics to what I thought was my childhood dream girl. Yes, yes, yes.

I needed to start saying no. No, I was not going to sleep with Layla. No, I was not going to let my inner beast dominate me, I was going to dominate and control my inner beast. No, I… I…

I couldn’t bring myself to say I didn’t love Layla. Even when I forced it out before my mind could stop myself, I knew that I was lying and full of shit. Maybe I didn’t love her, but I could not definitively say so.

Still, rationality had to win the day. Maybe I had to swing the pendulum to the other end of the spectrum and become almost as rational as a computer program, but right now, passion could not rule the day. Only the passion to get myself back up, to give the middle finger to Morgan and Edwin in the process, and to emerge stronger than before—alone—could take over me.

And then I heard Layla get off her bed.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself quietly, hopefully quietly enough that Layla had not heard me.

I needed to get out of the apartment. I didn’t need another long conversation, but I didn’t want her to think I’d just picked up and left. To do so would go against everything I had said the night before—all the talk about not knowing would sure seem like a bunch of hedging bullshit when it looked like I had just left the next day without so much as a wish for her to have a good day.

Hoping that it would signal that I was coming back, I placed my cell phone on the counter. I also realized, only after the fact, that this would give me the benefit of not having any distractions while I meandered through the city. I had no idea where I’d go, other than to say “not in one place.” I’d let the trains take me where I pleased, and if that put me way out in Queens or way up north in Harlem, I’d live with either one. I just needed to let my mind wander even further than my body.

I opened the door out to her hallway just as I heard her door opening. I heard her say my name, but not wanting to risk seeing her in just a bathrobe or even nothing, I kept going, leaving her behind to figure out that if I’d left my cell phone, it would almost certainly mean that I was coming back.

When I exited the apartment and came to the streets, it was relatively quiet by New York standards. Of course, this meant it was loud do the remaining 95 percent of the population who didn’t inhabit these streets, but for me, I might as wellhave stepped into a silent retreat. I only heard about two taxis honking by the time I reached the subway station, and the sound of other traffic was more distant. Most of the restaurants had not yet opened, keeping the hustle and bustle to a minimum.

The sky above also had a nice clearing to it, with no ominous threats of storms or winds in the distance. The distant blaring of some ships told me that the harbors were plenty active, but I wouldn’t be making my way over there anyways.

I made my way down to the first station, swiping my card through and relieved to see that my monthly pass had only recently renewed, giving me about three and a half weeks of “free” transportation. I had to take my wins where I could get them, and this one seemed like more than good enough.