Chapter 3
Let's be real—she'd tracked me down on purpose.
"Did Alex come looking for you last night?" Claire asked, her tone casual but her eyes like daggers.
I stayed silent for a beat too long, and Claire let out a dry laugh.
"Don't flatter yourself. I was the one who sent him," she said, shrugging it off.
"You said you were broke, and I figured you'd be too proud to take a handout from me.
"So I had him ask for me instead," she finished, looking bored.
My professional mask cracked, my brows knitting together in a scowl.
Thank God I didn't get the wrong idea last night—I was glad I hadn't deluded myself into thinking Alex wanted a second chance.
"He's still as painfully blunt as he was in college," Claire said, laughing.
"I bet he pissed you off again, didn't he?" Claire pulled a gold card from her bag and shoved it into my hand.
"There's fifty grand on this. It's chump change compared to what you used to spend, but it should keep you afloat for a while."
I tried to ignore the intimate way she talked about Alex.
But even breathing felt like a knife was twisting in my chest.
Back then, I'd had to beg and plead just to get Alex to grab a burger with me.
Now, Claire just had to snap her fingers, and he was running her errands?
I stared at the card and let out a long, weary sigh.
"You're being surprisingly generous, Claire," I said, my voice flat.
I'd spent three years at this company, and my total earnings didn't even touch that amount.
Fifty thousand dollars was a godsend to the person I was now.
It could fix my chronic back pain and finally pay for a winter with the heat turned up.
More importantly, it could buy the specialty meds that kept the shadows in my brain at bay.
My rational mind was screaming at me to take the money.
But my hand was already shoving the card back across the desk.
"I don't think so, Claire.
"My family went bust, and I've accepted that. You're with Alex now, and I've accepted that, too," I said, my voice steady.
"But quit showing off in front of me.
"No matter how desperate I get, I'm never going to be your lapdog."
The words hit home, and Claire's face contorted with rage.
She snatched the card and hurled it across the office floor.
Then she slammed a stack of folders onto my desk with a violent thud.
"Layla Foster, what exactly do you have to be proud of anymore?" she spat, her voice full of contempt.
"I only came here to give you a warning.
"Stay away from my fiancé!" she hissed, her eyes burning.
The office erupted into whispers the second she stormed out.
Claire was right about one thing.
I really didn't have a shred of dignity left to my name.
My termination notice was sitting on my desk by that afternoon.
My ex-boyfriend was getting married, and now this.
I was officially unemployed.
I guess Claire really was my personal jinx.
2:00 AM, and I was still out on the road.
The night wind was howling against the windshield.
I stared at the meter—it had barely hit a hundred bucks after an entire night of driving.
I punched the steering wheel in a fit of frustration.
It felt like ever since the bankruptcy, there had been a choir of voices mocking me in my head.
"How does it feel to fall from the top, Layla?"
"Where's that famous Foster pride now?"
"Just bow your head, admit you're a failure, and do what you're told..."'
Late at night, the voices got so loud I thought my skull would crack open.
Sometimes I wanted to kick myself for being so stubborn.
Why did I care about this pathetic dignity?
Why did I ever let Alex go?
Why didn't I just marry some random guy instead of working two dead-end jobs just to keep my head above water?
I couldn't make sense of any of it...
The chaotic, noisy thoughts felt like a fever dream I couldn't wake up from.
I blinked my eyes open, groggy, and saw Alex's face through the glass.
I opened my groggy eyes, and found myself staring straight at Alex's face.
Raindrops were glistening on his black turtleneck.
"My car broke down," he said, his voice cool. "Give me a lift."
In that moment, I found my answer.
It was because... I refused to lose.
I didn't want to be such a wreck that I couldn't even look him in the eye the next time we met...
I rolled down the window, lunged out, and clung to his neck, rambling like a lunatic.
"Alex? Did you come to take me home?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
"The hospital is so scary. This old guy jumped off the roof last night after his chemo.
"He said the pain was too much. He just couldn't do it anymore.
"The people in the support group say this can't be cured. That's a lie, right?"
Tears and snot were a mess on my face.
I kept mumbling, desperate for him to say something.
"Talk to me! You're the genius, you have to know.
"It's all a lie, right? I'm going to get better, and then I can follow you abroad.
"I can help you in the lab, I can..."
I broke down into quiet, jagged sobs.
I expected dream-Alex to stay silent, just like he always did.
Or maybe he'd wrap his hands around my throat and snarl.
"There is no cure, Layla.
"A liar like you deserves to rot!"
I couldn't stand the thought of those cruel words coming from his perfect lips.
So I moved first, pressing my lips against his cold ones to shut him up.
I only ever had the nerve to be this shameless in my dreams.
But this time, dream-Alex felt unsettlingly real.
He actually bit me!
The pain was sharp, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away.
Only when I was completely out of breath did I pull back, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Go away, Alex," I whispered.
"I'm done fighting. There is no cure.
"Don't come back to my dreams. You're getting married. It's not right."
I rolled up the window in a daze of despair.
But I didn't realize the door was already unlatched.
Alex hauled me out of the car and pulled me into a gentle embrace.
He held me as if I were made of glass, like I might shatter at any second.
Blood from my lip was soaking into my collar.