Page 34 of In the Lonely Hour

“Nah. You said I made the both of you lose him. Let’s see if that’s what she wants too.”

Dior’s head tilted as she watched the both of them head in her direction.

“Dior,” he called, pushing Layla back when she tried to step between them. “Do you miss Andres?”

She nodded. “Yes. He helped me a lot. And he was my friend.”

“Do you wish he was here instead of me?”

“Carlos!” Layla roared. “She doesn’t… Why does she have to choose? She can have his help and still have you.”

“Would you like for me to take her back?” Crystal asked, walking over to them.

“Please. And put her headphones on,” Layla replied quickly. She waited until the door closed to tell Carlos, “You need to leave. If I can’t trust you to have an adult disagreement without making her uncomfortable you don’t need to be here.”

“It ain’t about us having a disagreement. It’s about you trying to have a readymade family with that nigga with my daughter!”

Layla chuckled as her hands lifted and covered her mouth and nose in prayer position. “I don’t know what else you want from me, Carlos. He hasn’t been here. I haven’t been talking to anyone else. You’re back in the house. You asked me about him. Do you not want me to be honest with you at all? Or do you expect me to magically not have feelings for him?”

“I want you to put your family first and do whatever it takes to make this work.”

“Well that’s not what I want!” she yelled. “I don’t want you, okay! I wish I would have divorced you when you first asked for it! No, you know what? That’s not true. Everything happened for a reason, and that reason led to us needing Andres, so I don’t regret not divorcing you a year ago. But I do not want to be with you now, Carlos. I’m sorry.”

For seconds on end, he merely stared at her. It caught Layla completely off guard when his hand gripped her neck and pressed her into the wall. As she clawed at his hand, Carlos lifted her higher until her toes were dangling off the ground. The more she fought against him and struggled to breathe, the tighter he held her.

Hearing the struggle, Crystal came out and yelped before threatening to call the police. Dior, however, wasn’t going to wait for help to arrive. Layla’s eyes bulged as she watched Dior charge over to her father. Her fists began to fly like windmills, seemingly pulling Carlos out of his trance. But not before he forcefully pushed Dior back so hard she fell and toppled over onto her stomach.

The sight of her daughter on the floor gave Layla supernatural strength. As soon as Carlos loosened his hold, she began to hit him with all of her might… not stopping until he somehow managed to lower himself and grab her from below. As Layla fought to get out of his grip, he carried her to their bedroom and threw her on the edge of the bed, choking her until she blacked out.

When she woke up, he was gone, the police were there, and Dior was rocking in the corner of her room.

As Andres looked around the room filled with bags and boxes, he sighed. He’d been in his new home for three days, and the main people he wanted to celebrate with he couldn’t even talk to. With a sigh, Andres cut the light off and closed the door, not even having the energy to put anything else up. By the time he’d made it back to his bedroom, his mother’s call was just going to voicemail. He called her back as he sat down on the edge of the unmade bed.

“Hey, you called?”

“Yes. Are you home?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“Come to the door.”

After looking at the phone for a second, Andres disconnected the call and headed downstairs to his front door. He still hadn’t gotten used to how spacious his home was. More than anything,it felt too big for him alone. It took what felt like forever before he made it to the foyer and opened the door. At the sight of his mother and Dior, Andres smiled.

“What are y’all doing here?”

“She… ran away.”

“She what?” Andres asked as calmly as he could.

“Something happened at home this evening and she Googled how to take an Uber. I guess you gave her our address before you left, so she showed up looking for you.”

Dior’s expression was unsure as she tightly held her backpack to her chest.

“Are you okay, Dior?” She nodded. “You can come in. It’s okay that you’re here.”

Dior smiled softly and stepped inside.

“Do you want me to stay here?” Marilyn offered.

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