Chapter 149 A Slap in the Face
Despite her urge to bolt out of the meeting, Layla forced herself to stay put. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, avoiding Nathan's intense gaze, and walked to the podium to open the PowerPoint presentation.
"Miss Isabel's Lifestyle Boutique project is managed by our team..." Layla's voice was hoarse, strained from a night spent crying. Every word scraped at her throat, the pain sharp as if rubbing against stones.
She paused, her body trembling.
Pretending everything was normal while sharing a conference room with Nathan was too much to bear. She wasn't that strong yet.
Panic and anger surged within her like turbulent waves crashing relentlessly against her chest.
Pausing for a few seconds, she continued, "The initial work primarily involves..."
Photographs cycled on the PowerPoint slides as her voice grew raspier.
Midway through, Layla suddenly drew a blank, unable to utter another word.
"What's wrong?"
"Keep going."
"What's happening?" The audience watched in confusion, murmuring among themselves.
"Ceramic tiles are mainly chosen based on..." Layla closed her eyes, unable to continue, and faltered, "I'm sorry."
She felt so inadequate.
Her eyelashes glistened with unshed tears.
"I've been closely following this project, I'm most familiar with the process, and the client is very satisfied. Next group," Nathan said smoothly.
Layla returned to her seat as the next presenter took the stage.
The crowd moved on quickly, their focus shifting away from her.
Layla sat with her head down, fighting hard to keep the tears from spilling.
As soon as the two-hour meeting was over, she was the first to exit the conference room.
"Are you okay?" Alice placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, clearly concerned.
"I'm just going to get some water," Layla said, taking her cup and avoiding Alice's sympathetic eyes as she walked into the break room.
She placed her cup under the water cooler and absent-mindedly hit the hot water button.
"Gush—" Scalding water filled her cup.
"It's overflowing," a voice pointed out.
Instead of turning off the tap, Layla reached for the cup as if in a trance. Her fingers were burned by the boiling water, prompting her to pull back quickly.
"Are you okay?" Nathan's voice held a tinge of alarm as he grabbed her hand. Seeing the red burn on her fingertips, he felt a pang of distress.
"Don't touch me!" Layla almost shrieked, jerking her hand away and stepping back.
"Layla, can we talk?" Nathan hadn't slept well either, with dark circles under his blue-tinged eyes, his expression urgent.
"I don't want to see you." Layla recoiled from him as if he were a snake, desperate to get away, but Nathan caught up and grabbed her arm. "If you won't come to my office, we'll talk right here."
"You—"
He was threatening her!
Layla couldn't help but grow even angrier.
...
They entered the office, one after the other.
Nathan stood behind the door, closing it quickly as Layla came in.
Layla stared at him warily, keeping a few steps distance. "Don't come any closer. Just talk!"
"Layla, I was wrong that night, but I never meant to take advantage of you. I was drunk too..."
"Don't use being drunk as an excuse. I can hold my liquor better than that." Layla clenched her teeth. The old 'drunk and disorderly' excuse was the worst.
"Yes, but that night was strange. I felt so dizzy, I don't know what happened. I remember we kissed, but I have no recollection of anything after that," said Nathan, furrowing his brow.
To his knowledge, no one else had been in their room; he must have been the one to take off their clothes. It was impossible that nothing happened.
"I just wanted to tell you how I felt, but then things got out of control. I'm really sorry." He once again ran his fingers through his hair in frustration; he had been doing that so much these past days he was nearly going bald.
"Is sorry supposed to help? You have no idea how much that night hurt me. I was happy, and you destroyed it," Layla accused him sharply, her emotions running unusually high.
She knew herself well; there was no way she could just go on with Samuel as if nothing had happened. Confessing was just a matter of time.
No man could accept a woman who had cheated on him, not even a man as fond of her as Samuel.
And there was also the complication of a child between them.
Thinking of all this made Layla's head feel like it was going to explode. An urge to smash it into a wall overwhelmed her.
"Then let me make it up to you!" Nathan declared resolutely, taking a step toward her. Layla immediately retreated two steps, as if facing a great threat, rejecting his approach.
"I know I've left the impression of being a playboy, but my feelings for you are genuine. If it was just a fling for me, I wouldn't have planned an entire proposal."
He wanted to get closer to her.
"Stay back!" Layla snapped.
Her expression of disgust cut deep into Nathan's heart. In his panic, he blurted out, "I made a mistake, but you were drunk that night too, right? You weren’t sober yourself; I didn't force you."
Was he implying it was voluntary? That she deserved it?
Layla felt as if a knife had pierced her heart, causing it to drown in a wave of shame. She clenched her fists so tightly her nails nearly pierced her palms.
Yeah, she'd been dodging that very point. Shifting the blame onto him made things slightly easier on herself, but truth told, she had brought it on herself.
Layla mustered a bitter laugh. "So, I'm just trash, is that it?"
"That's not what I'm saying, Layla..." Nathan swiftly gripped her shoulders, anxiety threading his voice, "Just hear me out."
"Get off me!"
"I said let go!" Layla fought back, her movements wild and frantic, like an animal in hysteria.
With a resounding slap, her hand struck Nathan across his face, leaving him in shock. For several seconds, there was nothing but a buzzing in his ears.
He stood there, completely stunned. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slowly looked at her, his gaze exuding a masculine resolve. "If hitting me eases your anger, go ahead. I won't dodge."
A tragic laugh escaped Layla. Her eyes brimmed red, like a wounded animal. "What good does hitting you do? Does it change anything? Can it undo everything that happened?
"Nathan, from now on, please stay away from me."
She shrugged off his hands, and grabbed her bag as she stormed out of the office.
"Layla..." Alice caught up with her, "Your eyes..."
"Call in sick for me." Layla stepped into the elevator and as the doors closed, her tears began to fall uncontrollably.
...
In the taxi.
The driver peeked at her through the rearview mirror, "Young lady, going through a heartbreak?"
Layla wiped her eyes, staring blankly out the window, feeling a sourness in her nose.
"We've been driving for half an hour; you gotta give me an address."
She gave the address of the villa.
That place held the most memories with him.
Maybe from now on, memories would be all that remained.
The thought made her tears flow even more freely.
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