Page 15 of Rejected Heart (The Westwoods #5)

LAYLA

THREE MONTHS LATER

Keep going.

As I strode down the busy New York City sidewalk, I had to continue reminding myself to put one foot in front of the other. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Things were happening. Obviously, nothing was happening nearly as quickly as I would have liked, nor had I gotten where I’d hoped to be, but I was making progress.

And for now, that was enough. As long as things continued to head in the right direction, I wouldn’t complain.

When I left Landing at the start of the summer and randomly decided to make my move to the city, I hadn’t had a plan. I suspected I’d arrive and flounder for a bit. But my persistence and determination—likely the result of recognizing what I’d given up—had propelled me toward success.

I had a job now, and even though it wasn’t where I hoped to be in the long run, it at least provided me with enough to pay my half of the rent.

That was another glimmer of hope after I’d made such a heartbreaking decision to leave behind everything I knew and loved.

About a week after arriving in the city, I’d made a friend.

Frankie and I had been at the same coffee shop one day.

She was telling the barista about her former roommate leaving without notice, and I was celebrating being hired.

Since I needed a place to live, I interrupted, introduced myself, and the two of us spent the next hour getting to know one another.

We hit it off, and we’d been roommates ever since.

On the job front, I tried to be grateful just to have one. It covered my living expenses for now, and if I wasn’t frivolous or reckless with my spending, I had some money left over at the end of the month to save.

Sure, I could have opted to stay in Landing to find work, and the cost of living would have been substantially cheaper, but it was unlikely I’d find what I was searching for there.

Obviously, there were no guarantees I’d find what I was looking for here, either. The truth was that it was difficult to say where I needed to be when I didn’t exactly know what I was searching for.

In the broad sense, I needed a future. A career.

And even though the career path was unclear at this point, I figured New York City would be the perfect place to search for it.

Not only was there tremendous opportunity in a variety of career fields, but the likelihood was that once I figured out where I wanted to be—or more specifically, what I wanted to do—the income would be significantly more than I could have ever dreamed of in Landing.

I snagged myself a job as a ticket seller to Broadway shows. And I understood it was just a job. Not the career I ultimately wanted to have. No way would I have left Landing behind to come here for this.

But I needed income to survive, and for now, this job was providing that.

In an unusual turn of events, I was walking to a local café to grab some lunch. Since I was keen on saving as much money as I could, I didn’t typically splurge for meals out, choosing to pack instead. But things had been chaotic this morning after I’d had a restless night and overslept.

On top of attempting to sort out my life and career, I’d been trying to work through that, too. The things that often kept me awake at night. Not every night, not always, and perhaps one thing in particular.

No.

No, I wouldn’t think about that now.

I made it to the café, ordered a sandwich, and stepped off to the side to wait for it to be made.

In the rare instances that I needed to get lunch—or dinner, depending on my schedule—out somewhere, I tried to order ahead of time.

Today just happened to be a disaster for time management all the way around.

And for someone like me, someone who prided herself and thrived on her organizational skills, today was not a good indicator of my talents.

“Busy in here today.”

At the sound of the masculine voice just a bit too close to me, I deduced someone was speaking to me. My head snapped to the right and confirmed I wasn’t mistaken. There was a man I didn’t know standing there, looking at me with a friendly smile on his face.

I jerked my chin down and returned the smile. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Do you come here often?”

I shook my head. “No. This is only my second time.”

Understanding dawned as he tipped his head back. “Ah, I see. Well, this is my first time here, so I’m glad you’ve made a return trip. That must mean the food is good.”

I hadn’t really given it that much thought. This spot was close enough to where I worked, and I knew what to expect coming here. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

This was one of those rare instances in a place like Manhattan. As a kid, I never had the opportunity to visit a place like this. But within a few days of being here, I’d quickly learned how things worked.

Individuals didn’t often stand around making small talk. It really was a bustling place with people who were constantly on the go. Whether to their next corporate meeting or off to broker another real estate deal, most New Yorkers were busy.

I could understand why some outsiders considered them rude, but I quickly learned that wasn’t the case at all. New Yorkers were often happy to help; they just didn’t want all the unnecessary stuff in the process.

Like, if you needed directions, just ask. They love giving directions. But they don’t want the story about why you came to the city, who you came with, and what your plans were for the day. They have their own places to be.

Of course, that didn’t mean nobody had casual conversation. It happened, but it was infrequent.

“I’m Mark, by the way.”

“Layla.”

“Nice to meet you, Layla. So, do you have any other spots you can recommend? I just recently moved here, and I’m still learning the lay of the land.”

Well, that explained the casual conversation. He wasn’t from here.

Uninterested in getting myself into a mess of a situation without wanting to be unnecessarily rude, I let out a laugh and confessed, “Oh, I wouldn’t be the person to ask. I recently moved here, too.”

“No kidding? Where are you from?”

“A small town in Pennsylvania called Landing.”

“Ah, I’ve never heard of it. I came here about a month ago from Virginia. I was in the Roanoke area.”

“Layla!”

I turned toward the counter, saw the woman holding up a bag, and said, “That’s me.”

She handed the bag over. “You’re all set. ”

“Thank you.” I shifted my attention to Mark. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Yeah, you, too.” I’d barely taken two steps toward the exit when Mark called, “Layla?”

Stopping, I turned to look back at him. “Yeah?”

“Maybe this is strange, considering we just met, but I was thinking.” My body tensed as I prepared for what I knew was coming. “Is there any chance you might want to meet me for coffee sometime? Maybe we can explore this city together and find some great spots to call our favorites.”

So, perhaps it wasn’t just the need to save money that made me not want to go out for meals often.

It was this, too.

While Mark hadn’t necessarily done anything wrong—he was polite enough—I wasn’t interested in dating anyone. If being with someone had been my priority, I’d have been right back in Landing, engaged to Liam, and preparing to get married.

Sure, there was nothing that indicated Mark was interested in a romantic relationship. It was entirely possible he was just looking for a new friend in a new city. The problem was that I didn’t want to be that friend.

I was here to do one thing and one thing alone. And once I figured that out, once I did what I came here to do, I could return to Landing and try to make things right with Liam.

“While that sounds like it could be a lot of fun, I have to decline. I’m… I’m unavailable. ”

Disappointment washed over him. “Aw, man. That’s a bummer. Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.”

I hadn’t exactly meant those words the way Mark had taken them, but it worked for me. Though, I felt like the worst kind of human. Because I wasn’t quite sure Liam would consider himself lucky at this point. Heartbroken? Maybe. Lucky? Not yet.

I offered Mark one final smile before I turned and walked out.

Back to work.

Keep going.

If it hadn’t been for my constant need to be moving, working, and searching for that future career, I would have allowed what just happened to break me.

With my luck, it would be long after I settled down for the night that it would hit me.

Crawling into bed at night was the one time when thoughts of Liam were unavoidable.

With nothing else to distract me, with nothing else to keep my mind and body busy, it was impossible not to think about the day I last saw him, the day I rejected his marriage proposal.

Yep. I was bound to wind up having another sleepless night like last night.

One where I wanted to do nothing but curl up in a ball and cry, thinking about how much I missed Liam.

How hard it had been to ignore those calls, and how often I needed to replay those messages he left, just to hear his voice.

LIAM - ONE MONTH LATER

"Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

With my phone in one hand, I snatched my keys off the table. “I’m sure, Wyatt. I’m heading out now. I’ll see you guys in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.”

I disconnected the call, tucked my phone in my pocket, and made my way to the exit. And that’s when it caught my eye.

The mail.

Four months had passed since I’d received that first and only letter from Layla.

The day I’d received it, I’d updated my mailing address, adding the forwarding service to my mail, so that it’d be sent directly to me at the hotel.

Day after day, especially during those first few weeks, I hoped and prayed I’d get another letter.

Sure, I’d told my mom I didn’t want the letters, that I wanted Layla instead, but the truth was that I was willing to take anything.

Sadly, the weeks passed. One by one, and not a single letter arrived. After two months had gone by, I’d resolved myself to the fact that one was never going to arrive. And for the last eight weeks or so, I’d stopped racing into the room just to see if she’d sent anything .

But of course, something would show up today.

My birthday.

Another letter, the postmark from Landing. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get many answers today, either. Layla still wasn’t interested in telling me where she was.

My family had planned to take me out for dinner tonight. I hadn’t really been feeling up to celebrating, but I knew it meant everything to them. Since they understood my mindset, they’d willingly offered to keep it small and simple, unlike they did for every other occasion.

They were expecting me. And if Wyatt’s call to me now was any indication of where their mindsets were when it came to my promise to meet them at the restaurant, I probably should have left the letter exactly where it was until I returned.

I didn’t know what she’d written inside, but it was likely going to break me. Despite knowing that, I slid my finger along the flap to open it.

Dear Liam,

I’m sorry I haven’t reached out to you before now. I’ve sat down on a few occasions to write to you, but I can’t seem to pick up the pen.

But I had to do it today. I didn’t want you to think that you aren’t always on my mind, that I’m not thinking of you all the time and dreaming constantly of the day I can be back in your arms.

I miss you, Liam.

I love you dearly.

And I hope, more than anything else, that you’re happy today. I hope something makes you smile, even if it’s just the delicious treat that I’m sure Jules is going to bake for you.

Happy birthday, Captain.

All my love,

Layla

I read the letter three times, several words smearing beneath the tears that fell. I’d gone from desperately wanting this letter to arrive to wishing it never came.

Did she understand what she was doing to me?

Did she know how badly it destroyed me to get this instead of what I really wanted, which was her back here with me?

Was she purposely trying to punish me for something?

If only I’d had some answers, some explanation, as to why she left, maybe this wouldn’t have hurt so badly.

I walked into the bedroom, opened the nightstand, and pulled out Layla’s first letter. Then I sat down and read it again. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I hadn’t already memorized it, that I didn’t remember every word she’d written.

After kicking off my shoes, I swung my legs onto the bed and dropped my head on the pillow, reading Layla’s new letter over and over.

It wasn’t until the knock came at my door that I realized how distracted I was. Though it was muffled through the door, Ivy’s voice carried through the room to me. “Liam? Is everything okay?”

Still clutching the letter in my hands, I got up and moved to the door.

Ivy took one look at me, and with her phone up to her ear, she said, “Oh, no. Give me five minutes. I’ll call you back.”

My older sister didn’t wait for whoever was on the other end of the call to respond. She disconnected the call and guessed, “You heard from her.”

I held the letter up between us. “My very own birthday card.”

She could hear the sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’m sorry, Liam. Did she… Do you know?—”

“She didn’t tell me anything beyond wanting to let me know that she’s thinking of me all the time.”

“Do you believe her?”

I shrugged. “It’s kind of hard to do that when she hasn’t offered any explanations. If she truly missed me, she’d just come home.”

“I hate this for you. I wish there was something I could do. ”

Seeing the sad look on her face and hearing the helplessness in her voice, I was suddenly furious.

My family had gone out of their way over these last few months to support me through this awful situation. All they wanted was to celebrate my birthday with me tonight.

And because Layla had decided she didn’t want me anymore, but kept giving me these little breadcrumbs, I couldn’t even bring myself to walk out the door.

It wasn’t fair.

My family deserved better.

I deserved better.

I’d always love Layla. No matter how badly she’d broken my heart, that was something that would never change.

But I couldn’t continue to alienate the people who did care about me, who did stick around.

Inhaling deeply, I forced a smile onto my face. “There is something you can do.”

“Anything.”

“Ride with me to the restaurant.”

Her eyes searched my face before she returned a genuine smile. “Get your shoes on while I make a call. I’m starving.”

With that, I walked back to the bedroom, folded up Layla’s letters, and tucked them into my nightstand before putting my shoes back on.

Then I drove my sister to the restaurant and did my best to celebrate with my family. Obviously, not everybody I wanted was in attendance. But Layla had made her choice, and I had no options but to accept it.