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I have so much hurt in my heart right now I think it might crack in half. Failure, shame, guilt. The restaurants flash through my mind—I’ve failed those, and my stepfather in the process. I lied to myself constantly about everything. But most of all, I am ashamed of the way I’ve treated Leyna, as though it was just something casual, as though she is replaceable... It wasn’t just another fuck.I love her. The guilt eats me from the inside out and I realise, it has demolished the protective shell that has shielded me for so long, that has insulated me from living freely and honestly. When Leyna came into my life, she showed me what it meant to be open, how it felt to live without a protective shell, how to let go.
A familiar refrain reverberates in my head over and over—without Leyna, I have nothing.
This was it, the end of the road. I couldn’t give her everything. I couldn’t even protect her from them. I was a liar—I broke my own rules and gave into the fire that burned between us, and now look at what had happened. I was alone and Leyna was nowhere to be found. I felt like such a failure, and she deserved so much more.
I’m at home in my kitchen, still agonising over what to do when there is a knock on my door. Could it be?
Dalton stands there, looking a bit worse for wear considering two nights have passed since the wine and cheese do that ruined everything.
‘You look awful for someone who partied two nights ago,’ I say.
‘Wrong. Two nights in a row.’
‘Christ, how old are you?’
‘Too old to pretend I’m still twenty-five. Given the sheer amount of alcohol and proclivities of the night before I’m surprised, I’m actually standing right now.’
‘So you’re working from home today, too, huh?’ I joke. ‘Come in. I need the distraction and I’ve got coffee.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that. How are you doing?’ Dalton asks.
‘You didn’t have to come over to check on me. I’ll sort everything out. Somehow.’
‘Well first off, I’m here for coffee. Second, I’d offer to go for a walk but I’m in no shape. So third, I’m here for coffee and to sit at your kitchen table so we can talk about what you’re going to do. Have you heard the rumours?’
My stomach sinks. I can’t handle much more at this point. ‘What rumours? If it’s about Leyna—’
Dalton waves his hand. ‘No. There’s going to be some sort of disciplinary action taken against that wanker who slagged off your girl. The guys and I have already offered to give testimony and witness statements if necessary. I hope they send him those letters where they make it sound extremely frightening and formal so you’re absolutely shitting yourself before you show up before a panel to explain your actions.’
I look at him. ‘Thanks, mate. Why do I get the feeling that you know how this works because you’ve been through it before?’
Dalton sits there cradling his head. ‘Yes, possibly. Couldn’t confirm or deny. I’m not supposed to talk about it. But in my defence, I only borrowed the music department’s sound system, and...’
I shake my head. ‘You know, I’ve always considered myself a bit of a bachelor who refuses to grow up, but something tells me I’ll never aspire to your level of fuckaboutery.’
‘Mate, that just makes me a good friend to have because I’ve got all the advice in the world to give to you. And that’s why I’m here—to give you some solid advice.’
‘I don’t care about the ridiculous disciplinary hearing. It doesn’t change what’s happened—’
‘What? Not about that, mate! About Leyna! Where is she? That was some fucked up shit she’s just been through. She needs taken care of after that.’
‘For a friend, you’re making me feel pretty fucking shite right now.’
Dalton looks at me until I’m forced to say more. ‘I don’t know where she is. I can’t get a hold of her. I haven’t heard from her. I don’t even know where she lives. I don’t know what to do!’
I set two cups of coffee on the kitchen table and Dalton immediately starts to drink his and then gasps and splutters, ‘Hot, hot! Okay, first off, get your phone and check your emails.’
‘But I thought—’
‘One thing at a time. What have you got?’
It takes me a few minutes to get the university email up and then another minute as I scroll down, down, down, past all the starred items I need to deal with but haven’t. I’ve got an email from someone I don’t recognise. Hesitating, I click on it. ‘There’s an email from one of Leyna’s friends—Candace. She’s asking if I’ve heard from Leyna...’ I scan the email quickly. ‘I need to get in touch with her. She’s left a phone number.’
‘Go on then, give her a call. I’ll finish my steaming hot coffee.’
My hands are trembling as I type the numbers into my mobile. A voice picks up, ‘Hello?’
I clear my throat. ‘Hello, sorry to bother you. This is Jack Stanhope. Leyna’s... friend. I’ve not been able to reach her. Have you heard from her? Is she alright?’
