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“Excuse me.” I shoot to my feet. “Restroom.” That’s all I can manage as I bolt from the dining room and down the hallway.
My pulse is racing as I reach the bathroom. It’s a small room with a single toilet and a white porcelain sink mounted on the wall beneath a small gold-framed mirror. Fortunately, it’s empty. I step inside, lock the door behind me, and lean against it.
Tears stream down my hot cheeks. “How could I have been so stupid?”
For you, that’s pretty easy.
Shut up!
The pain I’m feeling is crushing—it’s akin to stabbing slivers of jagged glass into my skin. I have no one to blame but myself. Jason’s just doing his job. It’s not his fault I’m crushing on him.
Cut yourself. Cut your skin. Cut out the pain. Do it. Do it.
Her words terrify me.
Do it. Cut yourself. You’ll feel better. You know you will.
The urge to do what she says is so strong, it scares me. My hand shakes as I pull my phone out of my pocket. I know I should call for Jason, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want him to see me like this. Instead, I call my brother.
Ian is laughing as he answers the phone. “Hey, sis. Sorry, we were just—um, never mind. What’s up?”
“I—” My throat closes up on me. I can’t bear to say the words out loud.
“Layla?” His tone grows serious. “Are you okay?”
“No.” My answer is hardly more than a shaky breath.
“Where are you? Where’s Jason?”
But I can’t stop crying long enough to answer him.
“Never mind. I’ve got you on GPS.” He rattles off the name of the restaurant, and then I hear a car engine roar to life. “Where are you, exactly? Are you safe?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” I whisper.
“Where’s Jason?”
“I left him at our table.”
“Stay put. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in six minutes. Don’t do anything, you hear me? Don’ttouchanything.”
“Okay.” I know he’s referring to anythingsharp.
“Promise me, Layla.”
My voice breaks on a sob. “I promise.”
There’s a knock on the bathroom door. “Layla?”
It’s Jason. He’s coming to do his job.
What do you expect? You’re just a job to him. That’s all. A stupid, pathetic job.
Shame envelops me, and I sink to the floor and lean against the door.Hurry, Ian, please.
Jason knocks a little more forcefully the second time, and then he tries the knob. But it’s locked. “Layla, answer me.” He sounds angry.
But I can’t answer him, because I can’t stop crying.I’m such an idiot.
