Breaking Leila by Lucy V. Morgan Page B

fuck,
fuck.
    “I don’t know,”
I lied.
    “I don’t
believe you,” he said quietly.
    My voicemail
announced its arrival with a chime. I didn’t know what to tell him
so I sat awkwardly, wringing my hands.
    “Well, only one
way to find out.”
    “Matt!” I
shrieked as he dialled my voicemail.
    He clicked on
the speakerphone and Joseph’s voice poured out of the receiver:
    “Where did you
go, sweetheart? I thought you were waiting. She’s all tucked up in
bed now and I’m sat here, so hard for you...”
    I snatched the
phone away and switched it off, my cheeks burning.
    “How stupid do
you think I am?” Matt snapped. “Seriously, what the fuck do you
think you’re doing?”
    Tears
threatened, my pulse jumped. I’d done many questionable things this
past year but I’d never felt as cheap as I did in that moment.
    “I can
explain–”
    “I don’t want to hear it. It’s fucked.” He sprang up. “I
think you should do me the courtesy of leaving, Leila.” He didn’t
say   don’t
let the door hit your arse on the way out,   but it was more or less
implicit.
    “I have to work
for him now,” I said weakly. “I had to agree, so I can keep my
job.”
    “What do you
mean? He’s blackmailing you?”
    “Yes. No. Not
exactly.” I stood to look him in the eye–I owed him that much. “I
might as well tell you anyway. I’ve got nothing to lose, right? My
parents are totally in the shit with their business. I nearly
didn’t find out soon enough and I’ve been earning money so the bank
doesn’t take everything.” I waited for his reaction for three
bloated seconds.
    He folded his
arms, wouldn’t look at me.
    “When you hired
me, I had three jobs left before I’d earned enough to take care of
things,” I went on. “Joseph said I had to do them with him if I
wanted to stay with the company.”
    “I guess you
really do,” he said, his tone bitter.
    I shrugged. “He
could make things very hard for me, if he wanted to.”
    “Judging by that voicemail, things are
pretty   hard   for you already.”
    “You’re acting
like a jealous lover.”
    “I   am   a
jealous lover! I can’t believe you came over to offer me his
fucking leftovers. What does it take to get you to see me as
anything other than second rate? Should I beg?”
    I squared my
shoulders. Where did all of this come from, and when did these
obligations settle in the dust of our hotel fuck? “Do you think you
need to?”
    He said
nothing.
    “You’re not
second rate,” I said. “The way he treats me...I’m not stupid enough
to think that I’m anything other than a toy.”
    “You would like
to be otherwise.”
    “No, I wouldn’t.” Right? “Me and Joseph, we don’t...we’ve got
nothing in common besides the obvious.” I brushed my fingers
against his arm to see if he would push me away. He eyed me
suspiciously, but tolerated my caress anyway. “I
like   you .”
    I meant it. I
was as surprised as him.
    “You’ve got an
awfully convoluted way of showing it.”
    The little
smile made my lips ache. “I’m aware of that.”
    He peeled my
hand from his arm. “I can’t do it, Leila. Not while I know you’re
still...for him.”
    “But after the
jobs are done?”
    “I don’t
know.”
    “Would you at
least consider being friends again, then?” Failing twice in one
night–a new record. Ugh.
    “I guess it
would make things easier at work,” he said.
    “Thank you. If
you decide to, I mean.” I gathered up my coat and bag. “I’ll do you
that courtesy.”
    A mocking
silence seeped in as we walked to the door. This was the only
little death I’d get tonight–Matt and I.
    “I’m sorry,” I
said.
    “I know you
are.” He chewed his bottom lip. “I’m sorry too.”
    “It’s not your
fault.”
    He shook his
head. “I shouldn’t have tried to complicate things between us.
Or...well. It was unfair of me.”
    “At least it
was honest.” I considered kissing him on the cheek, but thought
better of it.