Chapter 143

Layla

Eli had fallen asleep long before the movie had finished. It was times like these when I wished he was still small and I had the ability to simply lift him off the couch like I used to.

I turned the TV off and gently snaked myself from under him, not wanting to wake him up. I didn’t want to leave him on the couch, thankfully I wasn’t the only one who shared the same thought.

I felt a slight brush against my arm and turned to see that it was Aldo. He held a finger up to his lips, signaling for me to keep quiet as he bent down to scoop our son up from the couch. From there, we walked in the direction of Eli’s room.

I moved slightly ahead of him so I could get the door and went over to pull back the sheets on the bed. Aldo caringly placed Eli down on the bed while I pulled his blankets back over him. I bent down to place a soft kiss on the side of his head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I whispered.

For a moment, I was seriously contemplating the idea of staying with Eli if it meant not having to be left alone with Aldo. It wasn’t as though I didn't feel safe around him, I just knew that he and I were due for a long, overdue talk.

The two of us quietly slipped out of Eli’s room and stayed in silence until we were a fair distance away. Most of the house had already gone off to sleep which meant that the two of us were truly alone.

I kept my gaze locked on the ground as we moved, although I could feel the weight of Aldo’s eyes firmly fixated on me.

When he finally spoke, his voice sent chills down my spine and arms. “Layla.”

I stopped. My breath caught in my lungs as I made the daring move to turn and look at him. Aldo’s expression was almost unreadable. But his eyes...His eyes held everything. Every feeling. Every unspoken word. Every repressed ache, pain, and desire.

“Why...Why didn’t you tell me the whole truth about when Carter revoked your medical license?” he asked.

I tore my eyes away long enough to keep my own emotions under control. I refused to let another tear fall from my eyes. I’d become so tired of crying.

“It wouldn't have made any difference,” I said.

Aldo looked like he was fighting back the urge to let his true emotions come out. His features faintly twisted with a disbelieving sneer.

“Layla...We need to talk.”

Yes, we did. But I wasn’t so sure that I was in the best frame of mind. It wasn’t like I was still boiling with rage—I was just insanely exhausted!

All that time rotting in bed didn’t exactly leave me feeling well-rested in the slightest.

“Aldo, I really don’t think now is—”

“Please.” His voice cracked with an untapped raw feeling I could only make out as anguish. “I can’t take any more of being pushed away.”

“I know we need to talk,” I said. “I guess...I’m just worried about how it’s going to end.”

A worried look crossed over Aldo’s eyes. It was no secret that he was concerned about this too. We could spend the next several hours talking about everything that has been going on for the last several weeks. But by the time that conversation would come to an end, we’d be faced with a hair-raising decision.

What was to be done about it? Where were we expected to go from there?

Aldo held that pleading look, making my chest clench with unwavering pressure.

“Fine,” I said.

I turned my back on him and led us down the hall, back toward his office. While I switched on a few of the lights, he closed the door behind him and remained leaning up against the wall. Suddenly, I felt a wave of uneasiness cascade over me.

How was it that of all the dangerous people I’ve come into contact with, Aldo was the most lethal? It wasn’t because I was ever actually afraid of him or that he would physically hurt me. The man possessed the power to cripple me emotionally.

The tension in the room was growing unimaginably thicker by the second.

“So, what did you make of Eva and Stasia?” I asked.

“Brutal,” he said. “But honest.”

“They certainly don’t sugarcoat anything, that's for sure,” I added.

“They told me about your dissociative Identity Disorder,” he mentioned quietly.

“It’s a mild case, they said.” My eyes dropped to the carpet. “Eva said that she’s dealt with a lot worse in the past.”

“You shouldn’t have been dealing with it at all!” he said firmly. “Layla, I’m devastated and disgusted at the vile feeling I have, knowing that you were suffering from this. What’s terrible is that I’m to blame for most if not all of it.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he insisted. “For weeks you’ve been trying to talk to me, asking me how it is possible for someone to exist in both worlds. And I never gave you a real answer.”

“Why then?” I questioned harshly. “Why did you never answer me?”

His voice cracked once more. “Because neither one of us would have liked the answer,” he confessed. “It’s nearly impossible for anyone to properly exist between both worlds. It’s one or the other. I know I should have told you this sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was afraid,” he said weakly. “You were so persistent in wanting to stay and as happy as it made me, it also worried me. You were accepting a life of danger, crime, and death. You and Eli are the only sparks of light I have in this never-ending hell. Even if it would have destroyed me, I was prepared to let you go and live a normal life.”

“Would you stop taking all the blame!!” I shouted back.

I was seething. Aldo was wise enough to keep quiet while I took the chance to collect my thoughts.

“You’re saying that you refused to tell me the truth because you were—what? Afraid that I would leave? I meant what I said when I told you that I wanted Eli to have his father involved in his life. But I’d be lying if I said that this was my only reason for staying,” I said. “I stayed because I wasn’t willing to give you up for a second time. There will never be anyone else in my life who fits me as perfectly as you.”

Aldo closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

“For years, I resented this family. I hated everything that it stood for and how it operated,” he said numbly. “The only benefit of having to return to it was the thought that I would be able to fix things. The Marcellos have been, and will always be, shrouded in a black veil of destruction and ongoing loss.”

He pushed himself off the wall and took a few calculated steps closer.

“It drains a person of everything good and decent, leaving them nothing but a hollow shell.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he pressed.

“No, it’s not,” I hissed. “It doesn’t affect you the way it did me.”

“That’s because I was born into it. And because the moment you stumbled back into my life, I refused to let you like the selfish bastard I am.”