LOGINLAYLAWhen I get back to the apartment, the reception is dark. The porter has gone home for the evening, and the lift, as per usual, is broken, so I trudge up the six flights of stairs to our floor. When I reach the boysā apartment door, I see that itās been left ajar. I can hear the low murmur of voices. Pushing it open gently, I peer inside.The guys are still streaming. Luke is hunched over his laptop with a massive pair of headphones over his ears and his head in his hands. Josh is frowning at his phone, and Zack is slumped in his armchair, looking absolutely exhausted as he speaks into the microphone set up on the coffee table. My heart aches as I look at them, emotion flooding through me. Iāve missed them so much.I shift my weight, and all three of them look up. Zack stops talking immediately, his eyes going wide. He stands, and his massive knees knock his mic off the table with a clatter. He doesnāt even seem to notice, staring at me like Iām a ghost.
LAYLAImmediately, Zackās gruff, scratchy voice fills my ears. Tears prick the back of my eyes, and I grip the smooth bar counter as memories wash over me.Him cuddling me on the couch. Him dragging me onto his lap to kiss him.Him spinning me around while we dance. God, I miss him so much.Iām so distracted by the sudden wave of emotion that it takes a few seconds to tune into his words. āGrief isnāt a straight line, I guess,ā heās saying. āSome days I still see Emily in signs. I still sometimes dream of her, or I get a memory thatās so vivid that it just ā makes the world disappear. And some days, I donāt think of her at all. And those are the worst.āI sit up straighter. Is he talking about Emily? Now? The last time we brought up the idea of him discussing grief on the podcast, he clammed up and stormed out. So why is he doing it now?āHow would you say losing a partner differs from a break-up?ā Josh asks.A shiver runs down my back as his de
LAYLAāAs you know, trends come and go,ā she says breezily. āItās difficult to make statements with any certainty in this industry, andāāāYes, but why?āThereās a long pause, then a sigh. āYouāre on that Single Guys podcast, right? Anna loves that show, she listens to it all the time in the office. Itās where she first heard about you. I gather that sheās unimpressed with your recent⦠comportment regarding your co-stars on the show.āMy throat feels like itās burning. āI didnāt cheat on them.āāMaāam, I donāt know anything about the situation. I donāt even like podcasts. All I know is that Anna is very temperamental, and she does not change her mind on these matters. She can be very⦠hard-headed. Iām sorry.āTo her credit, she actually does sound apologetic. Maybe this is normal for her. Maybe sheās used to turning down crying small business owners because her boss got pissed off about Twitter drama.I take a deep breath, nodding. āOkay. Thank
LAYLAAs I wait in line at Heathrow baggage check, I can feel hundreds of eyes on me.Itās been like this for days now. I barely left my hotel room all week, but whenever I did venture down the street to buy food or tampons, people blatantly stared at me. At first, I thought I was imagining it. But now, as I glance around the queue at the busy airport check-in, I know that Iām not.People really are looking at me. A gum-chewing teenage girl by the coffee shop is squinting at me like sheās trying to work out who I am. A cleaner has been absent-mindedly mopping the same square foot of floor for about five minutes straight as she openly stares at me. I meet her gaze, and she flushes, finally looking back down again.āExcuse me,ā a male voice says behind me. I turn and look into the face of a balding middle-aged man in a green sweater. He studies me. āAre you LaāāāNo,ā I say, turning back and glancing up at the huge clock hanging on the wall. My flight to
JOSHI go quiet. I donāt know what to say.Weāve never talked about this. Almost thirty years of friendship, but weāve never talked about the seven years of utter radio silence after he joined the national rugby team. Weāve never talked about why he suddenly cut me off, or why I found him, all those years later, drinking himself to death in a hotel room.āIām sorry I ignored all your calls,ā he mutters, his head bowed. āWasnāt personal. I wanted to talk to you. Jesus, you were the only person I could talk to. ButāāāEmily,ā I surmise.He nods, scrubbing his face. āI had to get away from this city. I had to get away from our school. When I was playing rugby, I could be a different person. I had new mates. A public persona. I just⦠threw myself into that, tried to leave all this shit behind.āāWhat did you do?ā I ask. āWhat did you do that was so bad?āāI cheated on her,ā he growls, kicking the step again.I try to hide my surprise. āYou cheated on
ZACK āI know I messed up,ā I tell him, my voice rough. āI do. I know I hurt Layla. And I hate myself for it.āHating myself is an understatement. I havenāt slept in a week. Every time I close my eyes, I see her wet, wounded face as I pull away from her in the rose garden, and it makes me want to rip out my own heart and hand it over to her on a platter.And then I remember that I probably lost Emilyās ring while I was balls-deep in Layla, and the guilt gets even worse.āI assumed so,ā Josh says drily. āYouāve never seemed completely brain-dead before.ā He tips his head. āWhy wouldnāt you admit it?āI look flatly at the ring shining in my palm. Iāve had this empty feeling in my chest ever since the wedding. I thought finding the ring would fill that hole. But no. I still feel like crap. It still feels like something is missing.āDo you remember what she looked like?ā I ask eventually.Josh goes very still. āEmily?āI nod.He shrugs a sho







