Chapter 132

Aldo

I hated waking up alone.

The bed felt unfathomably colder since Layla moved out. Each day, I kept silently praying and hoping that she would want to come back.

Last night had been yet another pointless attempt at me trying to get some stitch of rest. But it was a pointless endeavor from the start.

All I could do was lay there, wide awake, and think about everything that was going on. I’d contemplated several times, going to the other side of the house to be with Layla. Yet, each time, I held myself back.

I knew she wanted her space. A reprieve from the ongoing insanity. Sadly, it was obvious that she couldn’t find that sense of peace in me. I’d always reinforced the notion of letting her know that she could always come to me when something was bothering her.

During hard times, I wanted to be that shoulder for her to lean on. At night, I wanted to be able to hold her and promise to wipe away all the negative things that haunted her thoughts. I knew the weight of the Marcello family had been resting on her shoulders alone since my recovery.

It should never have happened. But if I were to have insisted the control be handed over to Carlo it would have led to a whole other slew of problems, I just knew it. Layla would have questioned my support and trust in her as a leader and God only knew what sort of destruction Carlo would have brought on.

Layla had taken on the role with a stunning stride; however, at what cost? Her mental health? Her morals? Her code of ethics? Her personal relationship with her own child? Her marriage?

“Jesus Christ,” I hissed to myself.

No. I didn’t want to paint the picture any more grimmer than I already had. Today was expected to be a slow day which meant that I had the proper time to finally reach out and speak with Layla.

Before I turned in the night before, I’d put Carlo on a mission to see if he could dig up any new information on Vanessa.

“If you come up short on that, move on,” I’d told him. “Your next job will be to get a closer look at this federal agent. Locate him. When you do, you’re simply going to start learning his habits and his schedule.”

“Say less,” Carlo said with a hint of deviousness in his voice.

“Remember, no contact. Just surveillance.”

It went without saying that Carlo, Ethan, and I were all deeply angered at this guy’s audacity to target Layla. With any luck, we would stumble upon something vital that we could use in our favor.

Everyone has a weakness. This bastard found a way to exploit Layla’s. Now it’s time to find out what his is.

Having gotten myself ready for the day, I made my way down to the kitchen where I saw Eli sitting at the table with my mother, content and focusing on his breakfast. Much to my dismay, Layla was nowhere to be found.

I went over to the counter to make up my mug of coffee and turned to face the rest of the room. An unsettling feeling had already begun to rise in my gut.

“Eli, have you seen your mommy today?” I asked.

“No,” he answered lightly. He lifted his eyes up from his plate, wearing the same look he had on yesterday when he was outside sketching away.

My mother chimed in, having taken a tentative sip of her own coffee. “She hadn’t come out for dinner last night either,” she said.

Fuck. I had no idea Layla had been absent all evening since Ethan and I had spent hours shut away in the office. Had she not eaten anything?

“Is mommy sick?” Eli questioned.

My heart slammed against my ribcage in a violent attempt to break free.

He’d lost a good deal of his fear and had replaced it with genuine worry. I knew that Eli would manage to bounce back from the whole mess with Vanessa. Unfortunately, Layla had not.

“I’m not sure,” I told him. “I’ll go and check on her in a little while. I’m sure she’s just been catching up on some much-needed sleep.”

Goddamnit. I knew very well that wasn’t the case. A huge part of me was hoping that Layla was actually resting and not purposely lying in bed to avoid the rest of the world around her.

In any case, my telling Eli that I would check on his mother in ‘a little while’ only lasted about two minutes before I slipped from the kitchen and made my way down the hall. I wasn’t going to waste another moment of time.

I made it to Layla’s room and knocked a few times on her door while waiting patiently for some kind of response. There wasn’t any.

The longer I waited, the more my anxiety was beginning to spark. Why wasn’t she answering? I knew she was in there...

My hand curled around the door handle. As quietly as I possibly could be, I slipped into the darkened room. The blinds were still covering the window and the air was a bit stale. I squinted my eyes to better make out the layout of the room.

A soft, troubled hum broke through the air. I stepped over to the bed, vaguely making out a large pile of pillows and blankets. Underneath it all was Layla.

Quickly, I stepped over to one of the blinds and pulled back a bit of the blinds to let in some form of light. Of course, the moment I did so, Layla burrowed further underneath all the covers.

“Layla.”

Jesus Christ. She may not have been sick but she certainly didn’t look well. Her complexion was drawn and worn. Her face was paler than I’d ever seen it. And her poor eyes were pink and puffy no doubt from all the tears she’d been fighting to hold back.

“Please, go away,” she croaked.

“Layla, please. You can’t hide yourself away like this,” I said.

“Wanna bet?” she countered back. There wasn’t a stitch of energy behind her words, yet I knew she was serious, nonetheless.

I sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Eli misses you.”

Her lips curled with cynicism. “Eli can’t even look at me.”

“He’s worried about you.”

She remained quiet for a long moment but made no immediate attempt to move.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry about your medical license,” I said. “I wish you’d told me sooner and not kept it to yourself.”

My stomach churned at the sight of Layla’s eyes glossing over with fresh tears. Shit. My point wasn’t to upset her further.

“What would it have mattered?” she asked bitterly. “It’s not as if you would have been able to do anything about it.”

I fought back the urge to reach out and brush her hair from her face. But the possibility of her recoiling from me would have surely sent me over the edge of my sanity.

“Maybe not. But you shouldn’t have gone down to the station with him in the first place.”

Again, her lip curled in resentment. “I’ll have you know that I held my own against him.”

I offered a supportive smile. “I have no doubt.”

“Why don’t you ask me what you actually want to know?” she prompted bitterly. “Go on.”

She and I both knew what she was intentionally referring to. Many of us were highly intrigued by the kind of questions Agent Carter had asked her as well as her answers.

I let out a tempered breath. “That’s not why I came in here—”

Layla’s tone was borderline vicious. “Isn’t it?”