Remembering Smiles

Chapter 28 -

I'm so sad :( Wanna know why?

'Cause the story is almost over! </3 There's no sequel or anything so, Allen and Layla will forever be placed behind me!

As we're approaching the end, I would like to thank all my supporters! I've noticed all of my usual commenters/voters and I LOVE you guys(: Might just dedicate to one of you!

Now, down to business. I'm just wrapping the story up and hopefully I don't leave anything unfinished! PLEASE, if you are willing to edit- drop me a PM? I'm not sure if I'll choose you, but I definitely need volunteers! Dedications, fans, ect are included!

Enjoy my amazing, phenomenal, and rebeaicvoejzds (got excited) readers! <3

Vote, comment, fan, ENJOY!:D

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***Layla's Point of View***

"Honey, I'm just so proud of you." My mother announced, yet again.

"Thanks mom." I repeated, sighing. 

Everyone has been doing nothing  but praising me for my improvement. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate the support, but I'm not even fully recovered! It's been close to nine months so, that means my 'memory spurt' has already happened. A lot of my memory has been restored and now I can actually relate back to people, but it doesn't mean I have all of it.

All of my friends now have actual meaning to me and it feels wonderful. Although, there's something that I can't just let go. I've succesfully kept it out of my mind for a long time, but I can't help but notice how frequently it's been coming into my mind.

My father.

No matter how hard I try, I can't remember. All I feel is the sharp pain of betrayal and abandonment when I think of his blurry face. The worst part is, the more I focus on him, the less I remember other things. It's like he swallows all of my efforts to forget about him.

After many nights of staying up, frustrated, I decided my only  option was to find out what had happened. The only problem was, I didn't know who to ask or how to ask it. I wasn't even sure how delicate the topic was to everyone.

My final decision was to ask my mother. There shouldn't be any weaseling around when it comes to a topic like this. Even if she was constantly busy with work, I'm sure she would have time to explain the deal with him. With all of my decision making, I realized how terrified I really was to ask her. So, to make it less intimidating, I made a date. Next Saturday would be the day to ask my mom.

At the time, it felt like I was ages away from having this discussion, but now here I was, about to have the conversation.

"So, honey, what's the big thing you wanted to discuss?" She asked, setting her coffee mug on the counter.

"Well," I started, sliding out my chair. "It's about dad." 

Shockingly, I had come right out and said it. Although, my mother seemed just as startled at the topic of our meeting. She blinked a few times before letting out a heavy sigh. That's when I realized that she had thought I already knew.

"It- we- was a mess." My mother began. "In the beginning, it was nice. I had you kids and I started to build my picture perfect life. However," She huffed. "There is no such thing as a picture perfect life, I soon realized."

My eyes eagerly stared into hers. Why did she stop?

"Uhuh..." I urged.

"Your father," She struggled to say those words. "He, um, I caught him cheating on me. At first, I was  heart broken and lost on what to do..."

As she trailed off, I winced. My mother didn't deserve that. As terrible as it already seemed, I could tell she wasn't done.

"But," I could see her almost crying. "It was just the beginning to my discoveries. He was also involved in some illegal drug selling. I found out he didn't even have a normal job- he worked the street corners. Devastated, I threatened to call the cops on him..." My mother's tone started to become more emotional and she tried to speed through the hurtful topics.

"So, he left before I had the chance to do anything. He simply packed up his bags and left town. Never heard from him again."

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, taking a big gulp of her coffee. To cover up her forming tears, she stood up from the table and began doing the dishes.

I, on the other hand, couldn't move. All this time, my thoughts trailed into different scenarios, but this was something I couldn't imagine. How could a 'man' do that to his wife and kids? And, I was related to him.

Twists in my stomach caused me to ache in pain, making me want to retreat to my bedroom. Just before I left, my mother grabbed my wrist with a wet  hand.

"Layla, are you okay?" Her eyes searched mine for some answer, but I didn't know what to do.

"Yeah," I half lied. "It's just a lot to take in, I think I'm going to go upstairs."

Before I could take my first step, she stopped me again.

"Wait, don't bring this up with Raina or Triston. They know what happened,  but they're very sensitive about it. I don't really want to refresh their minds."

Seeing the stressed look of concern in her eyes, I nodded before going upstairs. Carelessly, I lay down on my back, landing on my bed. The funny part was, I didn't even cry. Actually, there were no tears to even hold in.

My cold hearted father didn't deserve one tear of mine. Now that I knew the truth, his face could now really be put behind me. There were no more questions that I had. My father was a cheating drug dealer that was hopefully in jail right now.

Wherever he was, I hope he was suffering. 

Done with the internal thoughts of him, I texted Natayla to see if I could join her somewhere. Of course, she was at the library, but offered me to join. I'm not exactly a bookworm, but I definitely wanted to talk to her no matter where it was.

Lately, she has really been there for me. I couldn't believe how close we had gotten. Sure, the other girls were there for me as well, but Natayla was one of the best.

Calling a goodbye to my mother, I slipped out the door and started to drive towards the library. Since Natayla is practically always there, I knew exactly where to find it.

I found her in the back corner, sipping a coffee and reading. Cliche, I know, but one hundred percent Natayla. Not wanting to interrupt her reading, I slowly sat into the chair next to her. Still not noticing me, I cleared my throat.

"Natayla!" I boomed when she still didn't hear me.

Frazzled, she flinched in her seat and almost spilled her coffee everywhere. Luckily, she didn't, but gave me a playful glare once she recognized me.

"I almost had a heart attack!" Natayla laughed, closing her book. "So, what's up?"

I told her about my father as she gave me concerned looks. Somehow, I've learned to appreciate the concern people give me. It wasn't pity, it was love. It wasn't fake, it was real.