MasukLAYLAWe spent the rest of the evening together, tangled up on the guysā couch.Iām exhausted, but I donāt want to go to bed. As early evening slips into night, the sun sets over London, washing our bodies in gold and red light, then fading into darkness.We spend most of that time kissing. Slow and gentle. Hard and passionate.And everything in between.A few months ago, I hated kissing. I thought it was boring. Now, every second takes my breath away. The hours slide away without me realising.Even when our mouths arenāt firmly locked together, we donāt talk much.Thereās some idle chatter, but nothing deep or personal. It feels like weāre inside a delicate little soap bubble. Iām scared of popping it and ruining the moment. Iāve been so heartbroken for so long, and suddenly, all of that pain has gone. I can breathe again. More than that ā Iām happy. My whole body is thrumming with endorphins. Itās like every cell in me was missing the guys, an
JoshI slip out of the lounge, leaving Zack and Luke to make up with Layla, and head back to my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me, I slump down into my desk chair, turning to face my open laptop. The room is dark, cut through with shadows, but I canāt bring myself to turn on the light. My heart is heavy. My mind is whirring.I absolutely hate myself.The reality of what Iāve done didnāt really hit me until Layla walked back in through the apartment door. Instead of falling into our arms, she looked around at us like she expected us to hurt her. Her face was guarded.Distrustful.Of course, she didnāt trust us. Zack might have been acting like a prick recently, but he was right about one thing: Iāve lied to Layla non-stop for the past two months. I took advantage of her. I told her I was āhelping herā, but really, I was just helping myself. I was in love with her, and I used these stupid ālessonsā as an excuse to kiss her and hold her and have my way
LAYLAEventually, the kiss ends. I pull away from him slowly. He swallows, looking down at me.āI love you,ā I tell him. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts. āI love you. Love you.āāGod.ā He clasps me against him. His chest shudders with hard breaths. āI could hear you say that until the day I died and it wouldnāt be enough.ā He rubs his throat. āYou know what Em would be saying, if she were here right now?āāGet off my man, you bleach-blonde skank?āHe smiles, his eyes glistening. āCongrats. Ya, big idiot. Or something to that effect.āTears fill my eyes. I donāt know what to say, so I just kiss him again.When I finally pull away, my skin is fizzing. Zack stays at my back, stroking my arms as I turn to Luke. Heās sitting on the arm of the sofa, watching me, his face calm. The silvery strands of hair falling over his forehead are gilded in the low yellow light of the loungeās side-lamp, and the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled to his el
LAYLALuke dips his head. Joshās face is a mask.Zack looks utterly distraught. He runs a hand through his beard. āI mean, if thatās what you want, weāll take what we can get, L. But I love you. We all do. And you saidāāāI love you too,ā I agree, nodding. āI do. But itās not enough, Zack.āHe presses his lips together, his eyes pained. āI really hurt you, didnāt I?āHe says quietly. āWhen I slept with you, and thenāāāAnd then dumped me immediately after? You brought me into that garden knowing that we werenāt leaving it as a couple. But you still insisted on getting it on with me, for what? To give us one last run?ā I take a shaky breath. āAs a friend, I can see that you were in pain, and I can forgive you. But as a partner ā I canāt. Okay? I canāt let you treat me like that.āāThatās not what was happening. Not in my head.ā He rubs his throat. āI just⦠we were at the wedding, and I was so happy with you. And when I realised what day it was, I
LAYLAWhen 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







