3

Layla

The doorbell rang while I was baking a cake in the kitchen. Removing my mittens, I rushed to the main door and there was a sturdy man clad in a blue pullover with a bouquet of yellow roses.

"Good morning ma'am. You have a package." He handed over the flowers and I collected them. I wondered who could have sent me flowers on that morning. It couldn't be Ethan, or was it, Dylan?

Seriously, I thought Chloe had been busy joking when she had phoned earlier today to tell me that Dylan had requested my number, and she had given it out.

But how did he find out the location of my house? My best friend must have given it to him. My phone chimed, it was a text from an unknown number and it read;

"Good morning, gorgeous, it's Dylan from the restaurant. I hope you love the flowers. Read the card."

I couldn't help but chuckle. What did the card say? I found his handwriting to be quite stylish when I read;

'I really can't help myself, Layla. You are a beautiful woman and, although you are married, I still can't help but admire you. Here are yellow roses, they symbolize friendship and love. I am happy I met a beauty such as you.'

He was being sweet, and I knew it, but nothing could happen between us. He seemed to know that too. If only Ethan could learn one or two romantic gestures from him.

I texted him, appreciating him and telling him we could only be in correspondence and nothing more would be added to it. He would just be someone I knew. Dylan didn't mind.

As the sun set over the bluff, people gathered under the glittering chandeliers in Mrs. Carter's stately living room.

They were the sorts of personalities you wouldn't just find anywhere or on a random occasion. Yes, Mrs. Carter's guests were specially invited social figures in society.

My father used to make acquaintances with some of them. One particular man even recognized me as I stepped out in my red evening dress. I remembered he was at my father's funeral, and he had also asked me to have a lollipop whenever I missed my father.

I had found the idea quite silly for a senior citizen to come up with, but later, when I missed my father, I tried having a lollipop as he had said and, surprisingly, it helped to a degree. When he heard this, he gave a hearty laugh.

"I haven't tried it before," He revealed.

"Really?" I couldn't believe I had fallen for such a sweet trick.

"However, I'm excited to hear it worked out for you." He smiled. I found him to be a queer old man, but it was satisfying.

"Are you doing well?" He inquired in a loving tone.

"Yes, I am...I am." I breathed and he nodded.

"Is your husband around? I'd like to meet him. He seems to be taking good care of you. Where is the man?" He demanded, his eyes stealthily roaming around.

"Well..." I was about to conclude that Ethan wasn't going to show up at the get-together when he suddenly appeared next to me. He slid his hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

"Here he is, Ethan..." I introduced him, quite surprised he made it to the party.

"Mr. Sullivan." He extended a handshake to Ethan, examining him carefully with his old pair of emerald eyes.

"Ethan Brooks." Ethan warmly received his gesture. Then he glanced at me questioningly. I guess the introduction was incomplete.

"Ah, yeah...he's a friend of my father's," I added.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Ethan smiled and Sofia appeared with a glum face just before Mr. Sullivan could respond.

"You should attend to her," Mr. Sullivan said as I drew apart from the duo.

"Mr. Brooks and I will have a hearty chat," he added.

"Of course," Ethan smiled.

"All right then." I took Sofia away.

Pattering behind us was Elsa with a pretty scarlet ribbon tucked neatly around her furry snow-white scruff. Sofia puffed her cheeks, I sensed she was upset.

"They promised to come, but they haven't!" she cried.

"They will come, all right?" I assured her, but she didn't seem to be buying it. Elsa meowed and tried to clamber on her, pulling her pink maxi skirt.

"Not now, Elsa. I have a headache coming." She frowned and abruptly sat on a nearby sofa. I sighed.

"Do you want me to get you anything? There's lots of food...you want some macarons?" I asked, sitting next to her, softly stroking her dark-brown hair.

"I hate macarons!" She howled.

Seriously? I was flabbergasted at her response.

"I thought all children loved macarons..."

"Well, I'm not a child. A child always has someone to read her bedtime stories. I always read to myself!" She bellowed.

What was she talking about?

"Do the servants not read to you?"

"How could they? They hardly know who Snow White is or Mulan or Tiana... I hate it when they read to me!" She stomped her feet.

"What exactly do you want, Sofia?" I restrained my annoyance. Why did she have to yell all the time?

"Just sit here and...Charlene!" She suddenly chirruped and sprang up to meet a girl of her height with an embrace. Charlene? Oh, yes, Charlene, her non-binary friend whose mother was Afro-American. The girl, no, was smartly dressed in a flamingo-pink dress that almost matched Sofia's. Their chestnut hair flopped over their large foreheads. Charlene was a beautiful sight, and Sofia brought them to me.

Moments later, Sofia was skipping merrily around talking about this and that when Chloe found me. She had been searching for me since her arrival at the party.

"How do I look?" She pushed back her hair, flaunting her round, full breasts.

"Fabulous," I smiled.

"You've seen some hot stuff?"

"Yeah?" She chuckled. I looked at her suspiciously.

"What?" She nudged me. I laughed.

"It's nothing. Let's go mingle." I took her hand. I was glad that Sofia had company. Likewise, I couldn't truly mingle if she was forever stuck to me.

Ethan was already surrounded by women, and it was clear that he was having the time of his life. However, perhaps he had accidentally glanced my way and saw that I was doing fine with Chloe and the other men. He came walking towards me, looking not too pleased as I had begun a cheerful conversation with one of the hot guys.

"Excuse me." He stopped a waiter and took a glass of wine from the tray.

"Layla?" I knew his smile was insincere. How intolerably jealous he was!

"My husband, Ethan." I introduced him to Steve, the man whom I was chatting with.

"Steven Gould." Steve was kind enough to offer a handshake, but it was vividly clear Ethan neither liked him nor the fact that I was talking to him, and I seemed happy doing just that. It wasn't the first such an occurrence.

"Having a great time?" Ethan grumpily shook his hand.

"Sure. Your wife here is an outstanding woman," Steve complimented.

"Oh, Steve." I chuckled. Ethan shot a malevolent look at me as he quietly sipped from his glass.

"Do you mind taking a selfie?" Steve asked.

"No, I don't..."

"Layla, here..." Ethan hastily grabbed a chocolate bar from the table of desserts next to us, and he tried to forcefully feed it to me.

"No... I don't want it." I was quite irritated. Jealousy was driving him insane.

"Why?" He howled while Steve quietly watched.

"There's cauliflower in it..."

"And so?" He was unbelievable.

"Ethan? I'm allergic to cauliflower, remember?" I shouldn't have been surprised, yet I was. Not only that, but I was feeling ashamed of our marriage, how Ethan had given a stranger the worst impression ever. He slowly retreated, soberness was plastered on his face after his great efforts at restraining an explosion of jealousy failed.

" I'm so sorry, Steve." I apologized.

"No, it's fine. I believe it's your husband who has to apologize to you," Steve said, and I smiled awkwardly.

"Excuse me." He added and walked away. By then, Ethan was already smothered with resentment.

"Happy now?" I was annoyed. He suddenly grabbed my wrist and dragged me along with him. When we got to a secluded area, he pinned me to the wall and roughly held my chin.

"You now flirt around, huh?" His eyes were furious.

"Ethan? You are hurting me." I protested, glaring at him.

"And yet, you ridicule me in front of other men? Who do you think you are?" I fired with rage, and he wouldn't release his grip on me despite my protestations.

"Be careful." He finally warned and then walked away.

Rushing to the restroom, I splattered water all over my face and tried to regain composure. I didn't know what to do with Ethan, he was becoming more unbelievable and intolerable with each passing second, and I didn't think I was still myself whenever I was with him.

Out of the blue, while I was still pondering on my deep thoughts, I was startled by a noise.

A loud moan followed thereafter.

I was curious. I wondered if anyone was hurt, so I traced the direction where the noise came from. However, upon opening one of the toilets, I was taken aback to find a couple making out.

"Whoops! I'm so sorry..." I felt embarrassed. Likewise, I should have known the moan was sensual and not pain-inflicted.

"No problem. Just shut the door, or do you mind a threesome?" The man panted, spitting out pubic hair. The lady's breasts were perked in further anticipation, and she continued moaning.

"No, no...please..." I shut the door and walked away. Goosebumps began to poke out of my skin.

Just when I had thought I had seen enough drama for the night, I walked in on Mrs. Carter being fondled against the wall in the bedroom with an ajar door. Instinctively, I hid out of sight. I couldn't allow her to see me, she would be furious.

The man could be in his mid-sixties, as his hair was pepper and salt. I didn't have anything against my stepmother having men to satisfy her sexual needs, but I suppose I didn't expect her to be so needy. Moments later, she stopped the man from slipping his fingers underneath her dress.

"Do we have a deal?" She queried the impatient man. I swallowed. What was happening here?

"You are not naked yet, Hannah." The man kissed her shoulder, but she pushed him away.

"Do we have a deal or not?" She gritted.

"I want to undress you already..." He breathed against her neck.

"Answer me!" She yelled.

"Yes, yes...we have a deal. I know the only thing that worries you is the money, you've lived such a luxurious life, sweetie. I know you can't cope with being destitute. Not only that, but I'll give you everything you asked for and even more, just let's get it on, baby." He said in one breath. I couldn't understand what was going on, but I knew my stepmother was in a situation.

"I think someone's watching us." She said, to my surprise. I didn't see that coming.

"I'll shut the door!" The man flung the door close.

While I was still trying to figure things out, I almost stepped on Elsa. She was fully stretched out, and it felt as though she was already bored with the party. Sofia and Charlene were not in sight, and the party was thinning out. Glancing across the room, I also couldn't find Ethan. And where was Chloe? Steve waved at me, he was still handsome in his dinner jacket, and I guessed I owed him a selfie.

Before the servants finished clearing the living room, Sofia had fallen asleep on my lap, and so I had to carry her up to the guest room. Charlene had been conveyed home by her chauffeur before her bedtime. After I tucked her in, I decided to rest my eyes for a moment or two. I was feeling quite sleepy, and Ethan had left earlier without even informing me. He'd said he would give Chloe a ride back home. Chloe's hair was not really in a good place. I guessed she must have banged hot stuff.

A knock came on the door as soon as I shut my eyes. Mrs. Carter entered. She looked as smart as ever, and it was impossible to believe she was the same woman I had witnessed making out with a man. She had taken care to regain her usual appearance.

"Layla?"

"Yes ma'am..."

"I see Sofia's asleep." She peered over my shoulder to look at the young girl.

"Yes, she dozed off earlier." Mrs. Carter nodded.

"Georgina called. She'd like Sofia to be brought to her. She's concerned about Sofia's father showing up during the holidays when she is not in town. The man is a pain in the neck." She said.

"Don't you think Sofia wouldn't mind seeing her father? I mean, he is her parent too..."

"It's not your place to decide that. I need you to be Sofia's guardian, and take her to her mother. Most probably, she'd not spend more than two weeks over there. You can consider it as a getaway." She stated.

"Of course..." I whispered. I couldn't do anything else.

"Goodnight." She said and closed the door behind her.