Layla - Colleen Hoover Page 0,100

you.” She kisses me again, and I never want to let go of her.

But something tears us apart anyway. The sound of the front door slamming shut.

I look over my shoulder, and the man is no longer standing in the kitchen.

We both rush out of the kitchen and to the front door.

“Wait!” I say, running after him. He’s climbing into his truck by the time I reach him. “Where are you going?”

“You don’t really need me anymore. You found your answer.”

I shake my head. “No. No, we didn’t. You have to fix it now. Sable is still in the wrong body. Layla is still stuck in nothing.” I wave my hand toward Layla. “Switch them out.”

The man looks at me pityingly. “I find answers, but that doesn’t always mean there are solutions.”

I try to remain calm, but I want to strangle him for that response. “Are you kidding me? What are we supposed to do? There has to be a way to fix this!”

He starts the truck and closes his door. He rolls down the window and leans out of it. “Only one soul can lay claim to a body. Sure, Layla is able to slip into her old body, but it’s only temporary. Like a possession. You’ll never be able to get Sable out of Layla’s body. Not until she dies, at least. But when that happens, they’ll both be dead.” He starts to roll up his window, but I frantically beat on the glass. He rolls it halfway down. “Look. I’m sorry this happened to you guys. I really am. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to figure out a way to live like this until the three of you move on for good.”

I take a step back. “That’s your advice? To leave Sable tied to a bed for the rest of our lives?”

He shrugs. “Well, Sable kind of brought it on herself, if you ask me.” He puts the truck in reverse. “Maybe you should let Sable leave, and you can stay here with Layla’s spirit.”

I’m so angry at that advice I kick the door of his truck, leaving a dent. I kick it again. I want to scream.

The man rolls his window all the way down and leans over the door. He sees the dent. “Now, don’t do that to Randall’s truck. He’ll be confused enough when he wakes up at work and can’t remember what happened to half his night.” He puts his cap back on and slowly begins to back out of the driveway. “A human dies every second, and they don’t always die the right way. I have a lot more people to help.” He raises a hand in the air. “I’ll keep in touch online. Sure would like to see how you two work this one out.”

He turns his truck around in the driveway.

We watch him in silence until he’s gone. Until it’s just the two of us.

He really was just here to give us answers. Nothing more and nothing less.

I’m full of a frustration that can’t be settled, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve been given clarity. It’s like the strand of hair that’s been strangling my heart finally broke loose and it’s beating that out-of-control, irregular beat again that only Layla’s presence can create.

A plink and a BOOM.

“Layla?” I whisper.

“Yeah?”

I turn to her. “Nothing. I just wanted to say your name.” I pull her to me. I hold Layla for several minutes as we stand in silence in the front yard. I’m not holding Sable or Willow or a false version of Layla.

I hold Layla.

I may not have a solution. I don’t know how I’m going to keep her in my arms forever, but for right now, I have her. And I’m making damn sure she never spends another night alone in this house again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The mood in the house has shifted drastically in the last hour. We spent the first ten minutes kissing, hugging, reveling in the knowledge that our love somehow transcended realms.

We now have answers as to why Layla’s soul ended up here. But those answers are accompanied by a million more questions and a lot of unexpected grief.

I don’t even know how to properly mourn the idea that Layla essentially died . . . because she’s here with me. But she isn’t.

It feels like she’s been returned to me, but in a horrific way. I feel further away from her than I’ve ever been, even though we’re standing in the bedroom and I’m