𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣

he'd been through a lot the past couple of months and while he was thankful that both him and his girlfriend had made it out of the situation alive, it was still hard on him to get over. benji knew he needed to take a step toward healing and potentially seek therapy. "i'm glad you'll at least let me get you this much." he started toward the shop once she agreed, figuring she'd follow along. "come on, i'm just trying to be nice. i feel bad. it's around the holidays and people can't always afford the extra expense. how would i have known it was a work phone?"

His mention of therapy had her nodding, but Layla knew better than to pry. She understood what it meant to carry heavy burdens—her own secret about Marcus' addiction still ate at her conscience. "The phone isn't even the issue anymore. You’re okay," she said. The holidays did have a way of making everyone more considerate, though she wondered if he'd be this apologetic any other time of year. "And for the record, work covers my phone expenses. But since you're offering coffee..." She paused, noting his continued guilt. "You can't read my mind? Damn..." she said, teasing.

Her friend had no idea how stunning she was, it was so frustrating watching someone with that much natural beauty act like she was invisible. Like, hello? Has she never looked in a mirror? "Three outfits is better than none. And those college sweatshirts? Total fashion statement," she teased. The mention of Target decorations and Lei's excitement made her smile—that little girl's energy was contagious. "Listen, I'm not hyping anything up. I'm just stating facts. You deserve to have fun and meet someone nice," she insisted, although she understood her friend's hesitation after everything she'd been through. When Malia threatened to blame her if the date went badly, she laughed. "Fine, blame me. But first, let's go shopping this weekend. You need something that makes you feel amazing, and I need retail therapy after that disaster meeting with my cricket client. Plus, we can grab lunch at that new place downtown. What do you say?"

It was not good news to hear Layla admit to it taking years for her to get over that feeling. Because Elena had managed to do it for the last decade or so but now--to be back in Wilmington for the foreseeable future meant her doubts would be creeping back in as well. Sadly she wasn't sure she would be able to effectively combat it. "I get that, focusing on small wins sometimes is the easiest," she nodded knowing that for her--even purchasing her own home in Midtown was one of those small wins as opposed to living back there in her childhood home. "I like that--I think I'm going to have to adopt that mentality now," she said with a smile as she looked back at the other woman before back down at her phone that vibrated with a notification. "I hate to have to cut this short but I've got another meeting in half an hour and need to get home for it...but hopefully we can meet up again soon?" Elena asked with a friendly smile, already feeling like this woman was becoming someone she could count on and be friends with now that she was in Wilmington.

Layla considered how to soften the reality check she'd just delivered about the time it takes to build confidence. The last thing she wanted was to discourage anyone else. She sucked at sugar-coating things—but at least she was being honest about it. Life had taught her that false hope was worse than brutal honesty, even if the truth stung a little at first. When Elena mentioned small wins, she perked up—finally, someone who got it. "Those little victories add up faster than you'd expect," she said, believing in the power of those incremental changes. The phone notification interrupted their flow, but she appreciated how life had its own timing. "Of course. I'd love to meet up again," she replied with a smile. Their conversation might have been brief, but she'd clicked with Elena's straightforward nature and honesty. Maybe they'd both found someone who understood the whole 'rebuilding yourself' thing. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Only time would tell.

“TRIC works for me,” Kashvi replied with a grin before shaking her head, “yeah I’m not really in a dancing mood myself either,” she said with a smile before nodding as the other spoke about how her friendship with Miles was a good one as well. It was nice to know her cousin knew the man who had once been very important to Kashvi. Sure he was still important to her but not in the same way—or at least she was working on reminding herself of that. Kashvi smiled at Layla and nodded, “thankfully very free and very delighted by that fact,” she said with a soft laugh before seeing the way her cousin replied to her question which had Kashvi’s heart go out to the other woman. She knew Layla was going through something rough when it came to that cricketer and honestly she hated it for her. “Relationships can be more trouble but I think ultimately—they can help her become better versions of ourselves too you know? If we’re willing to put in the work,” she commented before nodding at Layla’s words. “But you know yourself best and I only want you to be happy so if that’s what you need—I’m here for you 100%.”

Layla liked how easy things were with Kashvi. They could just have fun and talk about life. It was a far cry from her relationships with even her siblings. "Yeah, TRIC works perfectly. And honestly, I'm relieved you're not in a dancing mood either." Her cousin's whole "delighted to be free" thing was cute, but also kind of crazy considering everything that went down. The Miles situation was probably more complicated than either of them wanted to admit, but whatever. She got it. Her own mess with Nik was enough of a disaster without adding commentary on someone else's love life. "Thanks for having my back. I know you mean well with the whole 'relationships make us better' thing, but I just need time." She paused, studying her cousin.bWhen her cousin started that whole spiel about relationships making people better versions of themselves, she almost snorted. Yeah, Matthew had made her better alright—better at spotting BS from a mile away. And Nik? That was a door she needed to keep shut and locked. "You really are a romantic at heart, aren't you? I don't know how you can still have faith when you've gone through what you have." She couldn't. If Matthew hadn't screwed her up, maybe there would be a chance. Not anymore, though.

And because Miles is anything but dramatic, he countered with an exclamation that feigned he was insulted at this accusation. "I am not!" He countered. "I picked something tropical as to signify that you probably need a vacation. When's the last time you've been on one? And it doesn't count if you went with a client." His brows raised with her alerting him that she'd be on her way to get the next round. Patiently waiting to see what her chosen drink would entail. And as the mixture of purple was placed before him, his dark gaze shifted between her and the glass. "Is it gonna be quite a fright?" He joked, the play on words rather lame as it left his tongue though he hadn't thought much of it as he raised the glass to her. "Cheers." And half the drink was swallowed within a second as his face twisted into a look of faux disgust. "What on earth is that?" Though it weren't all so bad, he were playing it up.

“Sure, Jan. You’re not being dramatic.” Layla said, clearly teasing him. She stared into her drink, contemplating his question about vacations. The past year had been a blur of contracts, damage control, and that whole mess with Marcus Thomas. His hospitalization and the lies she told still weighed on her conscience. "Actually, it's been over a year. Unless you count my weekend in Miami for Casey Hall’s contract signing, which was definitely not a vacation." She watched Miles examine the purple drink with exaggerated suspicion, fighting back a laugh at his terrible pun. His dramatic reaction to the first sip amused her even more. "It's called a Witch's Kiss—blackberry liqueur, vodka, and lime. Stop being such a baby, it won't kill you. Count your lucky stars. I could've ordered you the Zombie Brain shot instead if you really want to test your courage." She took a sip too before asking, “Alright, I know I’m going to sound nosey here, but I feel like I have the right to be. How’d you meet Kashvi? Just so we’re in the clear, she’s my cousin.”

At her reassurance that she wouldn’t run, Nik felt himself release a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding onto. That was all he needed to remind himself that this whole thing was worth it. Wasn’t it why he’d stayed right there—refusing to essentially let go of her even as she tried to run from him at every turn? The belief that maybe there was more to her feelings than she wanted to admit to? It was why he’d remained right now—close but not suffocating her. He listened as she admitted that he made it so simple. “It is simple,” he told her softly as she neared him just a bit more. It felt good to have her this close again after what felt like ages.

Layla tried to process his words about simplicity, her mind racing with a thousand what-ifs. After Matthew, trusting someone's promises felt like jumping off a cliff. "Simple sounds nice," she admitted, "but my track record with simple isn't great." She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out everything except the sound of his breathing and her own chaotic thoughts. "I want to trust that," she murmured, finding courage in the darkness behind her closed lids. "And maybe that's what scares me most, that I already do trust you." Nik's patience challenged everything she'd convinced herself about men and relationships. The way he gave her space to process, to decide, to choose—it went against all her cynical expectations. She'd built her walls brick by brick after her engagement ended, yet here she was, ready to tear them down for someone who made her question every rule she'd set for herself.

wynne nodded, letting the other know that she was listening to her as she focused on the game at hand. "well, the dancing class sounds like fun. i've never been much of a dancer myself but i suppose i'm talented in other ways." after all, she put on killer shoes at least once a week in this place. people seemed to enjoy her work. "who are you trying to avoid though? trouble in paradise?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder to peer over at the woman. "mm, i'm trying to keep it under wraps for the most part. at least until someone big notices me and then i'll release something on a whim, i think."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, forcing a light laugh at Wynne's comment about dancing. "Yeah, I'm basically tripping over my own feet in class, but it's a good distraction." Her mind wandered to Nik, and she took another sip of her drink to steady herself. The memory of discovering his marriage still stung fresh. "Oh, just this guy I was interested in. Turns out he's married—for a green card" She watched Wynne focus on her game, glad how the other woman didn't press for details. "That's smart, keeping your music private until the right moment. Though I bet it's amazing, considering how talented you are on stage. I wish relationships came with warning labels."

“Please… Even in scrubs you’re gorgeous and you know it.” Watching Malia doubt herself made her want to shake some sense into her friend. This woman could walk into a room wearing a paper bag and still turn heads with that smile and infectious laugh. The way her friend carried herself with such humility despite being drop-dead gorgeous was exactly why everyone gravitated toward her. Layla wished she could see that. “Lei’s going to lose her mind over those pumpkins,” she said, picturing the little girl’s bright smile. Seeing Malia so nervous about dating again, made sense. Dating was hard, especially considering James was an abusive asshole. “Trust me, you’ll do amazing without your wing-woman there,” she said with a grin. “Just promise me you’ll actually try to have fun instead of overthinking everything?”

Who would’ve thought Halloween would’ve been the perfect guise for him to be vulnerable with Layla and tell her how serious he was? Certainly not Nikhil but he was not at all opposed to it happening. He had fought his feelings for long enough that now that she was being honest with him—he finally felt like they had a breakthrough. Nik listened as she spoke about being afraid of becoming the girl who believed in fairytales. How could he convince her that if she gave him a chance—he’d be sure to make all those fairytales come true? He couldn’t do it with words—he have to show her through his actions. “I can tell you over and over that I won’t break your heart but until you can see it, I know it’s hard to trust me…” It hurt him that a woman like her had been so broken by a man who clearly didn’t deserve her or know how to best treat her either but that’s why he was here—he’d right all those wrongs from her past. 

Layla kept her gaze on him, their hands still linked. His words about proving himself struck a chord—raw and real. The sincerity in his voice when he talked about fairytales made her heart race. "I know it'll take time," she said, noticing how his expression changed when their eyes met. Her gaze lingered on his face, studying every subtle change in his expression. Being vulnerable with someone again made her stomach twist into knots—especially after spending so long building walls around herself. The way he looked at her now, like she was something precious to protect, made her wonder if maybe she'd been wrong to guard her heart so fiercely all this time. All those nights she dreamt of finding someone like this came rushing back. Reality had taught her harsh lessons since then. That half-smile of his drew her attention, made her want to reach out and touch. When he begged her not to run, she nodded, gripping his hand harder, anchoring herself to this moment.

Layla rolled her eyes at his quip about idiots keeping her employed, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Smart ass,” she muttered, taking his phone to scan through the messages. The names made a brow rise—teammates involved meant this could get messy fast. She jotted down the details in her notes app. “March of last year…and a baby involved now. Okay.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what’s crazy? I actually thought I’d have a quiet week for once.” Her dark eyes flickered back to the messages, absorbing every detail while maintaining her composure. “At least you’re being upfront about it now,” she said, handing his phone back. “Though next time, maybe lead with the baby news instead of making me drag it out of you.” She sighed, knowing she’d be up all night working on this. “Let’s get ahead of this before someone decides to make it their headline story.”

It was good to be able to share her own thoughts regarding her move back to Wilmington, and have someone who actually understood it. Clearly she and Layla had walked some similar paths in life for sure and almost instantly—Elena was feeling a sort of kindred spirit with the other woman. “Exactly! It’s not..fair really. I mean I was so young when my father passed so I only remember certain parts of him and our life but—people just expect me to uphold his same standards and it’s not—it’s not easy,” she expressed softly before looking back at the other woman and nodding, “I hope so—I just feel like a lot of people look at me and while they may not say it—they think I’m a failure.” But maybe that was just her own insecurities talking, she had no way of knowing for sure. “How long did it take you to break out of that mindset yourself?”

Those early days in New York had been such a struggle—constantly second-guessing every choice, wondering if she was letting everyone down. Even now, sitting here talking about it made her stomach twist with remembered anxiety. The freedom she’d found there had come at such a high emotional cost, but it had been worth every moment of doubt and uncertainty. “It took me years,” she admitted. “And honestly, some days, it still creeps back in. But I started focusing on small wins. Each time I made a choice for myself instead of what others wanted, it got easier.” She paused. Every tiny victory had felt like scaling a mountain back then, from choosing her own apartment in the city to finally telling her family ‘no’ when they pushed their expectations on her. “The trick is realizing that failure isn’t about not meeting their standards. It’s about not being true to yourself. Focus on what makes you feel alive. That’s where the real success is.”

benji nodded slowly, a small sigh leaving his lips. he just didn't want her to think that he was going around pushing people around, certainly not women. he was better than that but like she said, it was an accident. "good. i thought that was the least i could do. the last thing i want to do is part our separate ways without a proper apology or well, peace offering i guess."

She watched him fidget, his guilt written all over his face. It reminded her of one of her friends from third grade—always apologizing for everything. "I appreciate the peace offering. And trust me, you're already forgiven. Though I won't say no to coffee." His polite manners stood out, making her think about how rare it was to meet someone who actually cared about social graces these days. Most people in Wilmington would've just mumbled sorry and kept walking. "Besides, running into you is making my morning interesting. Mister Apologize for everything…"

This was absolutely not a conversation to be had in a haunted house of all places but if this was where they were—this is what they would do. He heard her words and it hurt because he’d never intended to make her feel that way. He wasn’t trying to pull a fast one over her, or betray her and yet that’s how she felt and he couldn’t take that away from her. All he could do was still try to rectify it but that was only if she’d let him. “Then what are you afraid of?” He asked softly, Nikhil couldn’t let himself move away from her, not when she was allowing the darkness to be a comfort that allowed her to be more vulnerable with him. Until she told him what she was afraid of—he wouldn’t be able to fix it.

Layla had been such a fool back then, planning the perfect wedding while Matthew was sneaking around behind her back. Standing here with Nik felt different though—scarier, because this time the feelings were deeper, rawer, more real than anything she’d felt with Matthew. “I’m afraid of becoming that girl again—the one who believed in fairy tales and got her heart shattered,” she said. His forehead touched hers, and she inhaled sharply. Shame crept through her veins at how she’d yearned for him while thinking he belonged to someone else. Her parents had raised her with strict values about marriage, yet she’d fallen anyway. She pictured her mom’s disapproving stare, her dad’s lectures about reputation. Mama would probably start the arranged marriage talks again, acting like Nik was some rebellious phase she needed to outgrow. Papa would give those long-winded speeches about ‘what will people say’ and how she was throwing away years of building their family’s good name. But she could be overreacting here. After all, they’d accepted Matthew, right?

Elena listened as the other spoke about the only tattoo she’d gotten being of the henna variety and smiled, “oh I’ve gotten them too! I had a friend getting married in Jersey City and I got to go to all her events…I love how some Indian weddings can go on for days,” she said with a chuckle before listening to the other speak about how many new things had been added to Fright Fest since she’d last been here. “Wow really? I normally enjoy horror as much as the next person but I’d be down to get actually a little scared for once,” she grinned at the other before getting her own temporary tattoo design done to match Layla’s dark mark as well.

She smiled at Elena’s mention of Indian weddings, memories of her cousin’s three-day celebration flooding back. The mehndi night had been magical—her hands decorated in intricate patterns while surrounded by family singing traditional songs. “Those multi-day celebrations are incredible. The food, the dancing, the rituals—it’s like a festival packed into a wedding,” she said with a laugh. Her gaze drifted to Elena getting her temporary tattoo, and she found herself actually liking the design. Not enough to make it permanent, though. “The zombie hospital will definitely give you nightmares now. They’ve added this twisted medical experiment section that had me screaming last time,” she admitted, cringing at the memory of walking through those blood-splattered corridors. “Let’s hit that one first—might as well dive into the deep end.”

He would’ve stepped away from her to go after the man who’d spilt the wine but it had been an honest mistake and he’d be better of staying close to her anyways. “Of course,” he told her softly. He could not even begin to imagine how she was feeling but he couldn’t see it in a good light of course. Not only had the wine been cold but it was just…embarrassing in the worst way. “I just—sure,” he said softly when she told him she was fine. Maybe he was the idiot for caring about someone who was making it very obvious that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. He did heard her words and the trembling tone in which she spoke but didn’t call her out on it, instead he just listened before sighing as he tried to lead her outside of the event.