After the visit to Carlen's parents' house, Layla called Tanar to share everything. Her voice trembled as she recounted Mrs. Adams' cold demeanor and unspoken disapproval.
Tanar, ever the optimist, consoled her. "Mrs. Adams will come around eventually, Layla. These things take time, but she'll see your worth soon." She is just being a mother.
Layla wanted to believe her friend, but Mrs. Adams' words echoed in her mind, casting a shadow over her thoughts. Still, she clung to the hope Tanar offered.
Two weeks later, Carlen and Layla agreed to visit her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, to deliver the betrothal gift. The thought of seeing her family brought Layla so much joy. She didn't realize how much she missed them.
Days before the visit, Mrs. Adams invited Layla to meet privately. The message was polite, but Layla felt nervous as the scheduled time approached. She had no idea what to expect.
"Sit," Mrs. Adams instructed once they met, gesturing toward a chair in front of her. Her tone was polite but carried an undeniable authority.
Layla obeyed, feeling small under her mother-in-law's sharp gaze. The Mrs Adams in front of her was different from the one who patronises her and call her sweet names .
"Layla," Mrs. Adams began, her voice firm yet measured, "I like you. You've been my florist for years, and I've come to think of you as a daughter in some ways. But this marriage to Carlen it isn't beneficial for him or for this family."
"I understand, ma'am," Layla replied quietly, though her chest tightened.
"No, I don't think you do," Mrs. Adams said, leaning forward. "Carlen is the head of this family. He carries a legacy that requires a partner of equal strength, social status and class. You may be kind and hardworking, but this marriage is a mistake."
Layla met her gaze, summoning every ounce of courage she had. "With all due respect, ma'am, I didn't plan this marriage. It was Carlen's decision. I know I'm not who you wanted for him, but I didn't ask for this either."
Mrs. Adams sighed deeply, studying her. "Put yourself in my shoes, Layla. Carlen is my only son. I just want what's best for him."
The meeting ended on a somber note, leaving Layla conflicted. She wasn't sure if she felt relieved that Mrs. Adams had been honest or hurt by her rejection. Deep down, she wanted to tell Mrs. Adams not to worry as the marriage wouldn't last long. After all, Layla only had a year, maybe less, to live.
Layla decided not to tell Carlen about the meeting. Instead, they chatted casually over dinner, their growing camaraderie surprising her. He was becoming a friend a kind and steady presence she hadn't expected.
She could call him her friend now.
-------
Late that night, Layla woke up thirsty. As she walked to the kitchen for water, muffled sounds from Carlen's room caught her attention.
Concerned, she opened the door to find him tossing and turning, his face drenched in sweat. He looked tormented, trapped in some unseen battle.
"Carlen," she called softly, shaking him gently. "Carlen, wake up."
His eyes flew open, panic flashing across them. "What are you doing here?" he rasped, his voice hoarse.
"I heard you from the hallway," she said. "You sounded like you were in pain. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he said quickly, sitting up and wiping his face. "Thanks."
Reluctantly, Layla returned to her room, but sleep eluded her. She couldn't shake the image of Carlen's anguish or the growing mystery around him. Finally she fell asleep.
Meanwhile, Carlen lay awake, his insomnia gripping him harder than usual. At just past 1 a.m., unable to bear the silence, he found himself wandering to Layla's room.
Standing by her bedside, he felt a rare sense of calm wash over him. Without thinking, he lay down beside her. For the first time in days, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When Layla woke the next morning, she was startled to find Carlen sleeping next to her. Memories of the previous night rushed back, and she concluded that he must have sleepwalked.
But Carlen wasn't sleepwalking. He was pretending. He knew he was deceiving her, but it was the only way he could sleep without the nightmares consuming him.
After another night of the same routine, Carlen couldn't bring himself to keep lying.
"Layla," he said softly as they returned from visiting her parents. "The visit to her parents house was a memorable one , they liked carlen immediately they saw him. Layla could tell they were happy about the marriage. She was also happy, she had fulfilled their wish by getting married, she also got them a new house and paid all their debts. Now she could die peacefully." She thought .
"There's something I need to tell you."
She looked at him, curious and concerned.
"I don't sleepwalk," he admitted. "The truth is, I can only sleep when I'm near you. I've had insomnia for years. Without sleeping pills, I can go days without rest."
"Why me?" she asked, confused. "I'm not… special. I don't understand."
He hesitated, then began, "When I was fifteen, I caused an accident. A couple and their daughter were in a car, and I ran into the road. They swerved to avoid me and crashed into a tree. The parents died instantly, but the daughter survived. I held her in my arms, calling for help, but…"
His voice broke, and Layla felt tears sting her eyes.
"I went into depression after that," he continued. "I couldn't speak for almost a year. I was saw several psychologist but it was still the same. My parents had to fly me out of the country for medical help , i became a little better after yesrs of not being in the country.
Even now, I have nightmares about it. Sleeping pills help, but they don't always work. For some reason, being near you keeps the nightmares away."
Layla's heart ached for him. Despite the weight of his trauma, he carried the burden of running a company that supported hundreds of workers. Compared to his struggles, her own felt almost insignificant.
She hugged him tightly, gratitude and sympathy swirling within her.
In that moment, Carlen leaned in and kissed her a slow, tender kiss that spoke of comfort, gratitude, and something deeper. Layla didn't pull away. Instead, she let herself feel the warmth of his lips, the quiet understanding that passed between them.
They both ignored the contract agreement of no physical touch and kissed each other like their life depends on it.