Page 8 of In the Lonely Hour

Layla’s brows knitted. Her fists balled, and she rocked on the heels of her feet. Andres could tell it was taking everything inside of her to not go over to Dior, but he was glad that she trusted him enough to listen to his advice. As he said, Dior eventually shifted from choppy to long breaths. Her rocking stopped, and she walked over to the easel that was closest to them and immediately began to paint.

Layla chuckled softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow. That’s a first.”

Andres smiled, licking his lips once it settled. “Yeah. Sometimes we all get stuck mentally. Depending on what brain is actually stuck and on what determines the course of action needed to get unstuck. In this instance, she was overwhelmed emotionally, positively. You definitely wouldn’t want to stop that because you would trigger the brain in her heart to expect good things to rapidly come to an end. So it’s best to let her process those positive feelings of overwhelm on her own so she can better handle and express them.”

For a while, all Layla did was stare at him with her beautifully dark eyes. Andres chuckled quietly, tearing his eyes away from her. It was the only way her eyes wouldn’t hold him captive. Truthfully, Andres had been thinking about Layla a lot since that day in the park. He didn’t know why he hadn’t asked for her number. Maybe because it seemed like she had a lot on hermind. Whatever the case, Andres told himself that was probably for the best. His relationship with Veronica ended just over a month ago, and he was still coming down from that.

He was living with his parents now while he decided his next move. He’d said if he didn’t begin to work with another family by the end of the summer, that would be his sign that it was time to leave Memphis… even if momentarily. It seemed like fate had intervened and decided to show him his presence was needed here, though he wasn’t sure what for just yet.

“That’s a really smart way of handling that,” Layla finally replied. “I mean, I hear about how we think with our hearts and stuff, but I’ve never really considered it that much.”

“Yeah. We have a brain in our head, heart, and gut. And we also have different layers that thoughts must past through within the brain in our head for us to process it. That’s why a lot of us are often triggered by things, or often in fight or flight. It always has to do with what layer of the brain that thought or feeling is stuck in.” Feeling himself ramble, Andres smiled and paused. “That’s not what we’re here for though, and as you can see, I can ramble about this shit all day.”

“Oh. I don’t mind at all.” Her thick, bushy natural hair moved with fluid as her head shook. “I love learning new things. Me and Dior.”

She was so fucking beautiful; Andres couldn’t help but stare at her. Her tall, slim frame was covered in caramel colored skin. This was the third time he’d seen her, and not once had she worn makeup, but her face had a natural glow to it. And she had medium sized puffy lips that he’d been wanting to taste every time he looked at them. And her voice… southern and sultry… he could listen to that shit all fucking night.

Andres nodded, taking a step in Dior’s direction. “Well that’s good, because a lot of what I want to put together for the both of you requires you to be open to learning and trying new things. Ifyou’re invested in the help me and my team can provide, we can draw up a personalized program right now. One that will include a structured routine for Dior, activities and tools to help with her socialization so she can snag that friend, small, individualized clubs and activities offerings here at the center, and for you…” He paused, head tilting as he looked her frame over. There were quite a few things he wanted to do to her…alone. Shaking those thoughts from his head, Andres added, “Self-care, you time, and emotional and mental support for both Dior’s transition into high school and your divorce.”

“Okay,” she agreed softly. A slight tremble rocked her body as she smiled. “This is the first time I’ve actually felt comfortable getting help. My parents and family always offer it, but I’ve always rejected it. I guess… with Carlos not stepping up like I thought he would, I’ve wanted to shield her from rejection or someone laughing or yelling at her because she didn’t say, do, or interpret something right. But I don’t think that will be the case with you, and I really appreciate that.”

“That’s your baby,” Andres reasoned. “Your creation.” He smiled softly. “Youryou. No one can blame you for wanting to shield and protect her. However, if you have a village that wants to help you with her… let them. That’s what they are there for. Me too.”

Layla’s mouth twisted to the side as she stepped in front of him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer for a hug. Andres smiled as he returned her embrace.

“Thank you,” she almost whispered, and the airy gourmand scent of her perfume had him closing his eyes and holding her tighter as he inhaled an even deeper breath.

“What time did you say he was supposed to be here?” Carlos asked, checking his phone for what felt like the millionth time to Layla. She was surprised he even agreed to meet Andres, but had she known he was going to have an attitude when he arrived, she wouldn’t have invited him. It was Andres’s suggestion that she keep Carlos updated on the plans she was making for their daughter.

Though Layla knew that was the responsible and considerate thing to do, she had absolutely no desire to include him. As far as she was concerned, he’d proven that he wasn’t interested in what was happening with either one of them anymore. His promise to spend the evenings home with Dior and his nightswith Jasmine didn’t last longer than it took the words to come out of his mouth. This was the first time she’d seen him since their meeting at the park.

“Six.”

Carlos sighed and ran his hand down his face, as if Andres was late, but it wasn’t six yet. “I got shit to do. I came over right after work. I’m ready to go home and unwind.”

Her heart squeezed and burned. Already, he was considering Jasmine’s place his home. It took everything within Layla not to remind him that this was his home. But was it really?

“Would you like me to get you a drink or something?” Layla offered.

“Yeah.”

Layla stood and headed to the dining room. After pouring him two fingers of Scotch, she placed the bottle back in the white and gold china cabinet she’d restored and headed back to the living room. Carlos had grabbed the remote and began to shift through the apps on the smart TV in search of something to watch.

The last thing she wanted to do was nag him, but Layla couldn’t help but want to question him. He’d been there for fifteen minutes and had yet to go and greet Dior. True, she could have called for Dior to come into the living room to speak to her father, but for once… Layla wanted Carlos to take the initiative. Trying to calm her nerves, she fiddled with her medium length, coffin shaped press on nails. Very rarely did she take the time to go and get her nails done, so custom press on nails had become a bit of an addiction. Relief washed over Layla at the sound of the doorbell.

She stood quickly and fluffed her natural, blown out hair before heading to the door to let Andres in. As soon as she set eyes on him and inhaled his woodsy, citrusy scent… her bodyrelaxed and nerves settled. It was taking every bit of self-control she had not to kiss the patch of freckles on his nose.

“Hey,” she greeted, unable to rein her smile in.

“Good evening, Layla. How are you?”

“I’m good.”Now. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Am I too early?”

“Not at all. I’m actually glad you came early.”

The sooner Carlos met him, the sooner he could leave and take his bad vibes with him.

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