What if Layla had accepted Joel's proposal in Book 2?
This is 6 chapters of pure angst. If you want the really angsty ending, then stop reading after the end of Part 2.
If you need a little refresher of what happened before, read up to the proposal...
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Harry drove me home, and we spent most of the journey in silence, apart from the radio playing quietly. Shame and embarrassment - and regret - were starting to set in, and couldn't wait to get home and climb into my bed.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked after I asked if he had any mints or gum to get rid of the taste of alcohol in my mouth. "Do you feel sick or anything?"
I shook my head, not knowing how he could be so kind to me when I'd not been the nicest to me. "Treat People With Kindness, huh? Is that your... message?"
Chuckling, he quickly glanced at me, "Yeah. I know it probably seems cheesy to you, but wouldn't the world be a little bit better if we were kinder to each other."
"I don't think it's cheesy, at all. It's good you're putting something positive into the world. I like it." He smiled a little, and I remembered how much I enjoyed making him smile. Taking a little bit of his slogan, and putting it to some use, I said, "I'm sorry I was so hard on you. Y'know? Last year? I was trying to protect myself."
Harry didn't respond, he kept his eye on the road, and we fell back into silence until we pulled up outside my house. The whole road was dark and quiet, with only the orange glow of the street lamps to light it up. I got out of his car as soon as he turned the engine off, and he surprised me by getting out too.
"I want to make sure you're okay," he said when I looked at him curiously. "Unless you'd rather I just left you alone."
"No, no, it's okay. I'll be fine," I replied at the exact moment I stumbled and almost fell against his car. Instinctively putting my hand out, I put it onto the boiling hot bonnet and burned my hand. "Shit! Oh, mother fuck, I did not need that!"
"Jesus, Lil." Rushing to me, Harry took my things from me and led me to my front door, while I moaned and whined like a child about how much my hand hurt. He held out my bag so I could fish out my keys with my good hand, then took them from me so he could let us inside.
After turning off my security alarm, I raced down the hall to the kitchen, switched on the far too bright light, and headed straight for the sink to put my throbbing palm under the cold water tap.
It felt way worse than it looked, but I imagined I'd have a blister or two in the morning. I'd never felt so chaotic in all my life. Wasn't I meant to be past these moments? Wasn't I an adult who her shit together? Who ran her own business and had just bought a house? When I'd joked to my friends in the group chat that my hen party would be messy, this was not what I had meant!
"Do you own a cat?" I heard Harry say, making me glance over my shoulder at him. Butterflies. "Because a ginger one just ran through the door after you."
"Yeah - that's Stan." I turned off the water and grabbed a clean tea towel to dry my hand. "He forgets how to use the cat-flap sometimes because he's an idiot."
Harry laughed, and I felt my heart flutter. It was getting to the point where perhaps it wasn't the tequila making me feel things.
"Well, I'll leave you to get some sleep," he sighed, looking uncomfortable as he noted the photographs of Joel and me which hung on the wall. It reminded me of him being in Will and I's bedroom, looking at the photographs of our wedding. Half turning his back to the wall, he motioned he was going to leave. "Make sure you, uh, drink lots of water. I know it's a, y'know, cliche, but it... it works."
