Stories Of The Past

Chapter 3-Layla's Russian Shrink

Here is chapter 3. I hope you enjoy. Vote if you like it and comment feedback!
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Nikolai looked out for Layla as much as he could throughout the school day. He helped her dry her tears and didn't mention the name Ollie once. I'll save that for another time, he had thought.

After school, Layla had an appointment with Dimitri which she couldn't believe she was actually happy about. She didn't want to go home sad without truly talking about it with someone. While she didn't trust Dimitri fully yet, Layla knew if she was going to talk to anyone about it, she'd at least talk to him.

When Dimitri's pale face came into view, she breathed a sigh of relief. Holding what she was feeling in wasn't something she wanted to do. It would only hurt her more.

Making her way to his office, she watched as an older woman around Dimitri's age walk out of the room. Her blonde hair and model body caused jealousy to bubble within her. Why can't I look like that? The woman smiled at Layla showing perfect teeth to go along with the rest of the perfection she possessed and while Layla grinned back, she couldn't help but wonder how the woman got her hair to be so gorgeous.

Flipping her hair, the woman turned back to Dimitri. How did she flip her hair like that? Like out of a movie? "Darling," the woman said. Her accent was thick adding to her sexy appeal and Layla wondered where she could be from. "I will see you later. Sergei needs to be picked up from piano at six."

When she dropped a kiss upon Dimitri's lips, he forgot about the world around him. His only focus was his wife. His heart fluttered as she broke the kiss and just looked at him. He loved when she did that, so he could just admire her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and looking over, he finally realized Layla was there.

"I'll remember," he told her kissing her quickly and pushing her out. She laughed as she went down the hallway with a "I'm sure you will."

Looking at Layla, he sensed her slightly feeling uncomfortable. "Come in," he said gesturing towards the room. She went in and he followed. She glanced at the couch in uncertainty. "What?"

"Is it safe to sit on the couch," she quietly asked smirking. Laughing, he answered with an "Of course it's safe."

Layla sat down and looked over at Dimitri smiling. She waited for him to drink from his bottle of water when she said, "Oh! The desk then."

Water flew from his mouth landing on his desk and spilling a bit on his shirt while he stood by his desk stunned. He didn't know in any way how to respond, so he settled with a very suspicious, "No! No, no, no."

"No?" Layla mocked.

"Yes, no."

"So," she began. "What I'm hearing is a yes. You dirty-"

"No!" he shouted flustered.

Layla laughed as she watched him grab napkins and attempt to dry his shirt. She knew they were up to something in here and she just couldn't help making him uncomfortable. After all, he was able to see her uncomfortable all the time.

A string of words escaped his lips as he spoke a language foreign to her. She didn't understand a word and couldn't help but ask, "What is that?"

"What is what," he wondered looking up from his shirt. Putting the napkins down, he came to the conclusion that his shirt would dry on its own accord and walked over to sit down on the couch opposite of her.

"What language was that?"

"It was Russian," he told her. She hadn't really noticed, but she heard a slight accent laced within his words.