Three

Chapter 3: The Man Who Stopped 

 Layla's POV 

 I didn't even know where I was going. I just kept walking. The rain was falling hard, soaking my clothes, my shoes squishing with every step. 

But I couldn't stop. If I stopped, I would fall apart completely. My heart felt like it was in pieces. Each breath hurt. Why did I even go there? Why did I try? I held onto the little box in my hand - the gift I had bought him with money I didn't even have.

 It was wet now, crushed, and useless. Just like everything else I gave to that man. I walked faster. Cars honked. People rushed past me with umbrellas. 

But I didn't care. I just wanted to run from everything. From the way he looked at me like I was a stranger. From how she laughed at me like I was a fool. From the empty silence that had become my life. My vision blurred from tears and rain.

 I didn't realize I had stepped into the street. I didn't hear the car until it was too late. A loud horn. Screeching tires. Then pain. So much pain. My body hit the ground, and everything went black.

 When I opened my eyes again, everything felt... quiet. Too quiet. There was a soft beeping sound beside me, and the room smelled like antiseptic. The light above was too bright. My head ached. My arm stung. I couldn't move without pain shooting through my side. Where was I? I tried to sit up, but a gentle voice stopped me. "Hey, hey. Easy." A man. Not Grayson. He stepped closer, his face concerned. 

I could barely focus on him, but his voice was soft and calm. "I'm really sorry," he said. "I didn't see you. You walked out into the road so fast. I tried to brake, I swear I did." His voice cracked a little. "You just collapsed in front of me. You were soaking wet. Unconscious. I couldn't leave you there."

 I blinked, confused, my lips dry. "You... brought me here?" "Yes." 

He pulled the chair beside my bed and sat down slowly. "My name is Chris. The doctors say you'll be okay. You've got a few bruises and a minor concussion... but you'll recover." 

I nodded slightly. The tears were already coming again. I tried to hold them in, but they slipped through. He noticed. "You were crying before I hit you," he said gently. "It wasn't just the accident, was it?" I didn't answer. Because if I spoke, I'd break. So I stayed quiet. He didn't ask more. He just stayed. That made it worse somehow. His silence was kind. Warm. Not like Grayson's cold silence. And kindness hurt more than cruelty when your heart is broken. I turned my face away, sobbing quietly. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to walk into the road." "I know," he said softly. "You looked like someone who wanted to disappear." I froze. Because he was right. I didn't want to die... but I didn't know how to keep living either. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "Why are you still here?" "I don't know," he said honestly. "But something told me I shouldn't leave you alone." His voice was warm. Safe. It wasn't flirtatious or pitying. Just... honest. He stood up and poured water into a cup. "You've been asleep for hours. Try to drink this." I took the cup with shaky hands. "Thank you." He smiled gently. "You don't owe me anything. I just... couldn't drive away." There was something about him. Not his looks - though he was handsome. Not his voice - though it was soothing. But something in his eyes. Like he had seen pain before. Like he understood what it meant to hurt. I held the cup tighter, feeling the heat of my tears again. "I don't even know why I'm crying in front of a stranger."

 Chris looked at me for a long time before saying quietly, "Sometimes, strangers are the only ones who see you." Those words hit something deep in me. Because Grayson hadn't seen me in so long. I was a ghost in my own marriage. A shadow. But this man - this stranger - looked at me like I was human. The door opened. I turned my head slowly, hoping it was just a nurse coming to check on me. But it wasn't. It was Grayson. His tall frame filled the doorway, water dripping from his hair like he had rushed here in the rain. His eyes locked on me first... then moved to the man sitting beside my bed.

 My heart clenched painfully. "Uncle Chris?" he said, surprise flashing in his voice. Uncle? I blinked. Chris stood up slowly, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the voice. "Grayson?" They looked at each other for a few seconds, the tension in the room rising. 

"I didn't expect to see you here," Grayson said, forcing a polite smile. "It's been a while. When did you get back into the country?"

 "Two weeks ago," Chris said, folding his arms. "I've been at the family hospital. Doing my rounds. What about you? Still playing CEO?" 

Grayson gave a short nod. "Yeah. Same old." The air between them shifted. Something cold settled in. Grayson's eyes flicked to me again. "What are you doing here?" he asked Chris, his voice tighter now. 

Chris didn't answer immediately. He looked at me, then back at Grayson. His eyes darkened. "You're her husband?" 

Grayson frowned. "Yes. That's my wife. Layla." Chris took a step back like he had just been slapped. Then, quietly, he said, "You're kidding." "No," Grayson said, confused. "Why?" Chris looked at me again, as if seeing me in a new light. "She's the woman I brought in last night." Grayson blinked. "Wait... what?" "She walked into the road," Chris said, his voice lower now. "Soaking wet. Crying. She looked lost. Like she didn't want to live. I almost hit her with my car. I rushed her here. Sat with her all night." Grayson's brows pulled together. "I didn't even know-" Chris cut him off. "You had no idea your wife was wandering the streets alone in the rain? Are you serious, Grayson?" Grayson stepped forward. "This is between me and Layla. You don't know what's happening in our marriage." 

Chris's jaw tightened. "No, I don't. But I know what I saw. I saw a woman in pain. I saw someone who was falling apart. And I was the one who picked her up from the road. Not you." Grayson's voice rose. "Why are you getting involved?" Chris didn't flinch. "Because she needed someone. And you clearly weren't there." I couldn't take it anymore. My throat burned. My chest felt too heavy. My tears were already falling before I even opened my mouth. "I don't want to see you, Grayson," I whispered. They both turned to me. I swallowed hard. "I begged you to notice me. I tried everything. I waited for you. I smiled even when I was breaking. And you... you never came." Grayson stepped closer. "Layla, please-" No, I said louder this time, trembling. "You married me, but you never considered me as if I mattered. You only paid attention to her." He pulled back. I went on. "I don't want you to pretend now. You don't get to show up when I'm broken and try to fix what you neglected." "I didn't know," he whispered as if he might shatter. "I didn't mean for this to happen- "But it did!" I cried, my trembling hands. "You left me alone in this marriage! I forgot how to feel like someone's wife. I forgot how to feel like someone. Period." Chris stepped between us. "She said she does not wish to see you," he said. Grayson looked at him. "You just showed up, Uncle. You don't get anything." Chris's voice dropped. "You know more than you're telling me. You've been snapping photos of Sasha everywhere. At parties. Clubs. Presenting her as if she were your girlfriend." Grayson's face was white. Chris shook his head again. "You were too egotistical to share your wife with the world. But the world has seen your mistress."

 Grayson turned to me again, guilt on his face. "Layla-" I stood with my back against the wall. "I'm done yearning for your attention," I panted. "Please leave." Chris didn't hesitate. "You heard her," he said, heading for the door. 

Grayson hesitated. "I'm still her husband." Chris shot him a glare. "Then start acting like one. Because right now, you are just a man who broke her." 

Grayson searched for a moment. then left. I sank deeper into bed, the weight in my chest crushing. Chris sat beside me again. He didn't say a word. He just gave me a tissue. And for the first time, I didn't hold back my tears. I wept because I was tired. I wept because someone defended me at last. I wept because perhaps... I didn't have to keep pretending anymore.