Page 208 of Broken Brothers

And because you weren’t, you’re now going to lose the woman you once said you loved and probably still love.

“Really?” I said softly, feeling naked in more ways than one.

Layla nodded. It was probably even worse that she didn’t look particularly heartbroken or torn up about the decision; sure, she looked sad and upset that she was having to make such a choice. She didn’t look head over heels about deciding to leave New York City. But she didn’t look like she was on the verge of a nervous background. She didn’t look like she was about to cry.

She didn’t look like she cared enough about me to change her mind.

“I have to do what’s best for me, Chance,” she said. “I really believed that we would work out.”

“Wait, wait,” I said. “You’re speaking as if this is a done deal already. As if we are a done deal.”

“I mean, if I go to Chicago, what are you going to do, move with me?”

Yes?I didn’t say the answer out loud, though. It would have come across as too reactive. I may have preferred to be bold and aggressive, but that was different from reactive and rash.

“I think I also need the distance from my uncle, Chance,” she continued. “He casts a large shadow in this city. Honestly, I sometimes wonder why you’re still here. I know you got rid of Edwin, but…”

I bit my lip. This was too much. I was fighting like hell not to have some sort of a meltdown in front of Layla right now, to not just lose my shit and go on a drinking binge right now. It was hard as fuck, though.

“Well what about us?” I said. “What about… you’re just going to drop it?”

“Chance,” she said. “How am I supposed to believe that you saying you’re taking things slow isn’t code for an excuse for you to see other people?”

Shit. Does she know about Sarah? Would she even care? Sarah’s not even sexual, she’s just someone I’d go and see for coffee Saturday.

“Layla,” I said. “I can’t just prove with complete certainty that I’m doing what I say, short of you following me on camera all day. And I don’t think you’re Edwin Hunt.”

She gave something resembling a laugh, but it was so far removed from a real laugh that it probably would have been better if she just didn’t laugh at all in the first place.

“But I can assure you I’m not seeing anyone else. You are the only person whom I am romantically involved with. I know it’s scary to go slow, I really do. Sometimes, I think me going fast and charging in is some sort of fucking mechanism for avoiding going slow. I have to, though. I have to so—”

“So what?” Layla said. “So you don’t make the same mistake as before with me? So I don’t prove to be a mistake?”

Don’t even lie. Don’t try and put it any other way.

“Layla,” I said, gulping. “Yeah. I know you’re not the woman that sold me out to your uncle. Now that I know your past, I better understand it. I just want to make sure, you know? And time—”

“You’ve known me for months, Chance,” she said. “And you know my story better than anyone except maybe my therapist, and that’s only because I’ve seen her longer than you. What more did you need to see?”

I had no good answer. I only had vague, generalized answers about needing more time.

“Look at it from my perspective,” she said. “Since I’ve known you, I’ve known you as a bold guy who didn’t give two shits about the rules. Sex in the office? Sex with someone you’re trying to do business with? Sex on a window? Yes, yes, and yes. And it wasn’t like you were trying to prove a point, you just wanted to fuck me like so. And I dug it. Even after I sold you out and you came back, you were bold. You held back at points, but I knew that you were still bold. And now, all of a sudden, now that you move out, you want to go slow and try and implement a no sex and no drinking rule.

“I mean, what the hell is that? How the hell am I supposed to react to that in any way other than negative? What would you do if I was fucking you like mad for a month or two and then all of a sudden, I tried to say ‘no sex for a month?’ You’d go mad, right?”

Fuck…

What was awful was we were both right. I wasn’t going to apologize for my desire to take it slow, even if I was failing pretty badly at it tonight. But I could also see how, from her vantage point, I had done nothing but try and lie my way out of seeing her more.Yet, I’ve seen her twice in the last week, so…

Doesn’t matter. Perception does. And you know it doesn’t look good.

“Do you still believe in the possibility of us?” I said, trying to hide the desperation in my voice. “Do you still believe that we could work out? If we really gave this a shot… would you?”

“Would I?” she said. “Yes. I like you, Chance. But that feels like an unnecessary hypothetical. You’ve already expressed the desire to take it slow. You’re just reacting to bad news right now. I’m probably going to wind up in Chicago. Look, we had a good run. We really did. But…”

A single tear fell down her cheek. I moved in to wipe it off, which Layla let me do without resistance. I hugged her then, and she fell into my arms. I knew from that reaction she wasn’t totally lost; there was still the possibility of pulling her back in.

But was it what I really wanted? Was I willing to move this quickly, after talking so much about moving so slow?