CHAPTER 21: UNITING WITH AN OLD FRIEND

~LAYLA~

Even when we got home, Axel still carried me in his arms from the car straight to my room. I wanted to say something, but I just didn’t know what to say.

My mind was still spinning from everything that had happened.

"Stay here," Axel set me down on the bed like I was made of glass. "I’ll call the family doctor," he said curtly, pulling out his phone before I could argue.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. Within thirty minutes, the family doctor arrived, a kind, older woman who examined my leg and the bruise on my cheek.

"The leg isn’t broken, just badly bruised," she explained to Axel while cleaning my wounds. "She’ll need to stay off it for a few days. The swelling on her face should go down within the week."

When she handed Axel a small bottle, he gave her a short nod.

"She needs rest more than anything right now. Give her one now, it’ll help her sleep through the night."

Axel crouched at my bedside, holding the pill and a glass of water out to me. I swallowed the sedatives without protest, suddenly feeling exhausted.

As Dr. Martinez packed up her supplies, Axel stood by the window with his hands in his pockets. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course. Call me if there are any complications."

After she left, Axel approached the bed. "You’ll be fine, okay? Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow."

The medication kicked in faster than I expected, and I drifted off before I could even process everything that had happened.

When I woke up the next morning, my leg still ached, but the sharp pain had dulled considerably. Next to my bed, I noticed a pair of crutches leaning against the nightstand.

I struggled to sit up, testing my weight on the injured leg. It hurt, but it was manageable. Using the crutches felt awkward at first, but after a few attempts, I managed to make my way to the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, I winced. The bruise on my cheek had darkened overnight, and my hair was a mess.

I didn’t have the energy to do much about my appearance, so I simply brushed my teeth, washed my face, and pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail.

Downstairs in the dining room, Axel was already seated at the table, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, reading something on his tablet while eating breakfast. He looked up when he heard my crutches on the hardwood floor.

"Good morning," he said, setting down his tablet. "How are you feeling?"

I manoeuvred myself into the chair across from him, leaning the crutches against the table. "I’m fine," I replied quietly, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true.

The housekeeper brought me coffee and toast, and we ate in silence for several minutes.

Finally, I looked up at him. "Thank you," I said. "For yesterday. For defending me and believing me when no one else did."

Axel shrugged, cutting into his eggs. "It’s my job as your husband. It wasn’t a big deal."

His words sent a strange mix of emotions through me. On one hand, hearing him call himself my husband made something flutter in my chest.

On the other hand, I knew this was purely contractual for him. Still, no one had ever stood up for me the way he did yesterday, and I couldn’t help but admit that it had softened my feelings toward him.

"I wanted to update you on a few things," Axel continued, setting down his fork. "The man who assaulted you will be in prison for five years. I’ve also arranged for bodyguards to watch over you twenty-four seven."

I nearly choked on my coffee. "Oh, that’s nice. But isn’t it ..."

"It’s not up for discussion," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. "Your safety is my responsibility now."

Before I could protest further, he checked his watch and stood up. "I need to leave for work. Take this week off to rest and recover. Don’t even think about going to the office."

"But I feel fine enough to..."

"Layla." His voice was gentle but stern. "Rest. That’s an order from your employer."

He grabbed his briefcase and headed toward the door, pausing briefly to look back at me. "Take care of yourself."

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a week of forced idleness ahead of me.

The first day passed slowly, the second day dragged even worse.

By the third day, I was going stir-crazy. I’d watched every show on Netflix that remotely interested me, read half a book, and even attempted to reorganise my closet while balancing on one good leg.

The bodyguards Axel had assigned were professional but always present, making me feel both protected and slightly suffocated.

I was scrolling mindlessly through social media when a message notification popped up from someone named Erica Chen. The name made my heart skip a beat.

"Layla? Is this really you? I’ve been seeing you in the news and finally managed to track you down here. It’s Erica from high school! Do you remember me?"

I stared at the message for a full minute before it clicked. Erica! ... Erica was my best friend from high school. The only person who had ever truly understood me before she mysteriously disappeared from my life.

She was my first and last real friend. The girl who laughed with me, cried with me, whispered secrets under the bleachers during lunch breaks.

I typed back quickly: "Erica! Oh my god, is it really you? I can’t believe you found me!"

Her response came within minutes: "It’s really me! God, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been living in Oregon for years now. Can we video call? I have so much to tell you!"

Twenty minutes later, I was staring at Erica’s familiar face on my laptop screen, both of us crying tears of happiness.

"I can’t believe it’s really you," I said, wiping my eyes. "Where have you been all these years?"

"It’s a long story," Erica said, her smile fading slightly. "My family had to move very suddenly. One day I was in school, the next day we were packing up everything we owned and driving across the country."

My stomach sank. I’d always suspected my father had something to do with Erica’s sudden disappearance, especially after he’d made several comments about how our friendship was "distracting" me from my studies and future goals.

"Erica," I said carefully, "do you know why your family moved so suddenly?"

She was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "My dad lost his job. Something about a business deal falling through, and then other companies wouldn’t hire him. We never really understood what happened."

My heart clenched. It was exactly what I’d feared. My father had destroyed her family’s livelihood just to separate us.

"But enough about the past," Erica said, forcing brightness back into her voice. "Tell me about your life now! This marriage and the whole scandal, are you okay?"

We talked for over two hours, catching up on years of missed conversations. Erica told me about her job, her apartment in Oregon, where she resides now, and her dating disasters.

"I’d love to see you in person," Erica said as our call was coming to a close. "I know you’re married now and probably busy, but you don’t know how happy I am to find you again."

"I’d love that," I replied. "More than you know."

After we hung up, I felt lighter than I had in days. Having Erica back in my life, even just through a screen, made me remember who I used to be before my family tried to mould me into their perfect daughter.

That evening, I was walking aimlessly through the mansion when I walked past Axel’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see him inside packing a suitcase.

I knocked softly and pushed the door open, stopping at the entrance. "Axel?"

He looked up from where he was folding dress shirts into the suitcase. "Layla... uhmm... come in. How are you feeling today?"

"Better, thank you," I replied, moving closer and leaning on my crutches. "Are you going somewhere?"