Watching her get out and simply leave.
* * *
He walked into chambers and didn’t even have to tell Wendy not to speak. One shake of his head was all she got and he stepped into the cool dark of his office, trying to fathom that a few days ago he hadn’t even known her.
The best thing that had ever happened in his life had gone and he had had no choice but to let her go.
He felt as if there had been a death.
Yet he’d never mourned like this before.
He was breathing hard, just trying to get used to the idea of fifty or so years on the same planet as Layla without ever seeing her, when his intercom buzzed.
He ignored it.
‘Mikael?’ Wendy knocked at his door.
‘I don’t want to hear it!’ he shouted, and then turned as the door opened.
‘Yes, you do,’ Wendy said. ‘The café where you have breakfast just called. Layla’s there, apparently. They saw her on the news but instead of calling the police they have called you.’
‘Tell them to take her out to the back!’
‘They’ve tucked her away in a booth and put reserved signs on all the tables near her. Layla doesn’t know that they’ve called you.’
Mikael ran.
He almost flew into the café, to see the smile of Joel.
‘Layla’s fine,’ Joel said as he walked Mikael over. ‘Well, she’s crying. She came and asked if we had any coffees on sub. I don’t think she really gets the concept, but she’s so gorgeous who could say no to her?’
Not Joel—and certainly not Mikael.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she nursed her coffee and Mikael knew he was glimpsing the real Layla—the one who hid deep beneath the shining surface, the Layla he had been so privileged to get to know even just a little.
‘Why are you crying in your coffee?’ he said, and saw her jump a little.
And then she looked up and did not even try to wipe her tears.
‘I’m very confused, Mikael,’ she admitted. ‘It was supposed to be fun. I did everything I ever wanted and I don’t understand why I feel so sad.’
Mikael moved into the seat opposite and took her hands without thought.
He looked at the little circular scar on her wrist and knew that even if it hurt them both he would try one more time—because not only did he not want her to go back, his guts folded over at the thought of her with another man, going through the trauma of having babies she simply wasn’t ready for and might never be ready for.
He did not want her scared—and if she had to be then he did not want her scared in the world without him.
‘Layla, I meant what I said this morning—will you marry me?’ he asked again. ‘I will sort it all out. I will speak with your brother, your father…’
‘No.’ She looked at him. ‘It can never happen.’