Alle Kapitel von Until You: Kapitel 21 – Kapitel 30

🌿Layla's Point of ViewThe first day after all events had settled down, the world maintained its regular appearance. The harbour lay wrapped in its usual morning mist. A single gull outside the dunes produced a single note which tested the peacefulness before it accepted it. The air carried two distinct scents: ocean salt and the homey aroma of toast from the neighbouring house.I started my day before sunrise just as I had for many previous months because my body maintained its emergency response pattern. I stayed motionless in bed, my eyes tracking the dim light that entered through the curtains, until I heard any sign of disturbance.Today, everything remained silent. The room remained quiet while the fridge hummed softly and the flax plants outside rustled in the gentle breeze.After months of the paparazzi snapping at my heels and the possibility of Dan or Lillie coming knocking at my door, the initial experience of genuine silence became disorienting. My body had been operating

🌿Layla's Point of View Two years sounds like a long time. Long enough for a person to grow a new life or fall apart entirely. Over those months, even the people around me shifted in small, meaningful ways. Evelyn, with her vibrant personality and infectious energy, was like a burst of sunshine wherever she went. Yet, amidst her exuberance, she possessed an uncanny ability to sense when to temper her exuberance. On those days when the world felt too loud and my heart craved tranquillity, she skillfully softened her sharp edges. In her own unique way, she became a calming presence, offering a grounded steadiness that enveloped me like a warm embrace, allowing the silence to speak and the stillness to heal. Jackson would reach out periodically, casually checking in with a simple yet meaningful "You good?" every few days. His approach was always respectful and thoughtful; he never pushed for details or pried into my feelings, but instead created a reassuring presence that reminded me

🌿Layla’s Point of ViewIt started small.After returning from our honeymoon three months ago, Rider and I had settled quietly into my family home by the coast. Even though I had lived here with Dan, the house had begun to feel different with Rider in it. It was less like a museum of old memories and more like a place where something new could take root. Our days had taken on a steady rhythm, familiar and calm, the kind of routine I hadn’t known I could want.A wave of dizziness on the third morning, sharp enough that I had to sit down on the edge of the terrace until the horizon stopped swaying. The tiles beneath me were warm from the sun, but my palms felt clammy against them. Rider stepped toward me instantly, his shadow folding around mine.“Easy,” he murmured, pressing a cold glass of water into my hands. “You’ve been out here too long.”“I’m fine.

 🌿Layla's Point of View We didn't call anyone that night. Rider embraced me in the hallway as the house released its breath, and we shared that moment. No toasts. No lists. No immediate plans. Nothing planned. We ate leftovers at the kitchen bench, bare feet on the cool tiles, his knee brushing mine. His eyes stayed fixed on me, as if fearing I would disappear when he closed his eyes. I kept pressing my hand over my stomach like I could somehow keep the moment from spilling out of me. We went to bed early. Sleep did not come quickly, but when it did, it was deep and strangely peaceful. For the first time in a long time, my dreams weren't of doors slamming or courtrooms or voices raised in anger. They were quiet. Soft. In the morning, sunlight pooled over the duvet in warm bands. Rider was already up, the faint clatter of

🌿Layla's Point of ViewThe decision came quietly, not in a burst of inspiration or a dramatic declaration. Just a gentle, steady certainty that arrived on an ordinary morning, the kind of morning where the light slanted warm across the hallway and the house felt more like a companion than a structure.I was brushing crumbs from the kitchen bench when my gaze drifted toward the stairs, toward the room I had avoided for far too long.The spare room.The one that held boxes stacked like silent witnesses. The one that smelled faintly of old paint, cedar, and the childhood version of me still tucked into the corners. The one where Dan always kept the door half-shut, as if my memories might spill out and inconvenience him.The house had shifted. My body, too. The future, tilting with it."Rider?" I called softly.He appeared from the hallway, stretching out the stiffness in his sho