Four

Chapter Four: 

A Place For Me 

 Layla's POV 

 The sunlight that slipped through the curtains the next morning was soft and warm, but it did nothing to ease the heaviness in my chest. I hadn't slept much. My body was tired, but my heart was worse-tired, sore, full of noise and silence at the same time. I sat up slowly, my fingers brushing over the blanket that covered me. The hospital room was quiet. Peaceful. Almost too peaceful for what my heart was going through. 

 A soft knock came at the door before a nurse pushed it open gently. She gave me a small, kind smile. "Good morning, ma'am. The doctor said you're good to be discharged today. Your test results came back clean. You just need a little rest." I nodded, forcing a polite smile. "Thank you." She gave me the paperwork to sign, then walked out, leaving the door half open. As I placed the pen down on the little clipboard, I heard another knock. This time, firmer. A little slower. When the door opened wider, I already knew who it was. 

 Chris. He stepped in, holding a paper cup of what smelled like coffee. "I brought this for you," he said, offering it to me. "It's not great, but it's warm."

 I took it with shaky hands, surprised by how gentle he looked. Not the man who stood like a wall in front of Grayson yesterday. Not the man with the cold, unreadable face. Just... calm. Kind. "Thank you," I said softly.

 He pulled the chair closer to the bed but didn't sit just yet. "The nurse told me you can go home." "Yeah. I slowly nodded, sipping a cup of coffee in an attempt to hide my shaking lips. Chris's eyes scrutinized me. "So... where are you going?" I hesitated. It was a simple question. But for me, it was a crack across the floor of my existence. One that I wasn't certain how to cross. "I... I don't know yet," I murmured. "I'll figure something out." "Do you have relatives in the area?" he asked. I shook my head. "No. Lost my mom when I was eighteen. And. don't talk much to my dad anymore. He remarried and moved on." He nodded slowly, his expression impassive. "What about friends?" he asked. 

 I smiled softly. Bitterly. "Most of my friends. drifted away after the wedding. Everyone presumed I had the perfect life. No one ever wondered what it was like behind closed doors.". Chris was quiet for a moment. Then he said something that left me standing stock still. "You can come home with me. Just until you sort your life out." I glared at him. "What?" He sat down slowly in the chair, his eyes firm but not threatening. "I'm not doing it out of sympathy, Layla. And I'm not seeking anything. You simply need somewhere to catch your breath. To have a roof. Protection. Nothing else." "But... you're his uncle," I stuttered. "You're Grayson's uncle." "Yes," Chris said, his tone steady. "But that doesn't necessarily mean I support what he did. Family or not, I won't stand around and watch a person get hurt." I looked at my hands. They were shaking again. "I don't want to make things worse between the two of you," I whispered. "You've only just come back. I don't want to get you involved in something complicated."

 "I already am in the middle," he stated, his voice firm but not unkind. "The second I picked you up off of that road, I was in it. The second that I looked at how broken you were. I made a choice, Layla. And I don't regret it." Tears burned behind my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but one dropped down my cheek. "I don't know how I got here," I whispered. "I had a dream of love. Of being home to someone. I thought that was it for me and Grayson. I thought marriage to him would be something." 

Chris didn't cut me off. He let me speak. Let me cry. "I gave up so much to be with him," I went on, my voice cracking. "I gave up job opportunities. Friends. Pieces of myself. And no matter how desperately I held on to him, he pulled further and further away. I was invisible in my own house." I glared at him, my vision foggy. "Why are you being so kind to me?" Chris's voice was quiet, steady. "Because no one deserves to be made to feel like nothing. And because I've seen people break, Layla. I've seen how silence can eat a person alive." I covered my face with both hands. "I feel like a fool." "You're not," he said quickly. "You were just in love. That's not foolish." I sat there, crying silently for another minute. Then I wiped my mouth and gazed up at him. "If I go with you," I said, slowly, "it's only a little while. Just until I can stand again." Chris smiled very weakly. "That's all I'm promising." I nodded. "Okay." He rose and offered his hand. "Let's get you out of here." 

For the first time in what had felt like an eternity, I was standing tall without the sensation of drowning. I had no idea where this road would lead. I had no idea what the morning would see. But for the moment, I had somewhere to breathe. And maybe, just maybe, a second chance at getting to know myself again.