Forgetting Sparks

Chapter 2

Layla fidgeted with her coffee cup, her eyes darting to the entrance of the café every few seconds. She felt a little ridiculous, like a teenager waiting for a crush, but then again, wasn't that exactly what Omar had been to her? The door chimed, and she looked up to see him walking in, his presence effortlessly commanding the room.

Omar had changed, that much was clear. His confidence seemed different—less boyish, more dangerous, like he'd seen too much of the world to care what anyone thought. He wore a black leather jacket over a dark shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, his jeans slung low, his gaze sharp and assessing as it scanned the café. And when he spotted her, his lips curled into a slow, almost mischievous smile.

"Hey, stranger," he greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. His voice had that same rich, deep tone she'd heard at the airport, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Layla tried to keep her composure, but his presence was intoxicating. The boy she'd known had been charming, yes, but this Omar was something else entirely. Charismatic, confident, with an edge that hinted at secrets she could only guess.

"So," he said, leaning back in his chair with that lazy, confident grace she found maddening, "did you miss me?"

Layla rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Is that really how you want to start this conversation?"

He smirked, unbothered. "I just figured I'd skip the small talk."

"Straight to the point, I see." She raised an eyebrow, trying to sound unaffected. "What else did you expect?"

He shrugged, his gaze holding hers with a fierce intensity. "I expected you to be mad at me. Maybe even pretend you didn't know me."

Her heart skipped. She'd spent years trying to forget him, trying to pretend he didn't matter as much as he did. But there was no use pretending now.

"Well, maybe I was mad at you." She took a sip of her coffee, trying to steady herself. "You left without a word, and then you... disappeared."

Omar's gaze softened, his expression shifting to something she hadn't expected—regret, maybe, or something close to it. "I didn't want to leave, Layla. But it wasn't exactly my choice."

"Your mother's surgery?" she asked gently.

"Yeah. She needed me, and my dad... he wasn't around to help her through it. So I had to step up." His gaze shifted, and she could see the conflict in his eyes. "But after a while, I... I stayed away because I thought it would be easier for you."

"Easier?" Layla's voice was sharper than she intended. "You were my best friend, Omar. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to know what was going on, to help you. But you never let me."

There was a brief silence as they both took that in. He looked away, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability creeping into the conversation. But then he met her eyes again, the usual mischievous glint back in his gaze.

"Maybe I was scared," he said with a smirk. "Or maybe I thought you'd be better off without a guy like me."

Layla rolled her eyes, but her heart twisted at the way he downplayed his pain. "Oh, so you're the mysterious bad boy now?" she teased.

His smirk deepened. "Maybe. You like it?"

Layla felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away, laughing. "You're ridiculous."

But he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "You didn't answer my question."

"Maybe I do," she admitted quietly, feeling her heart hammer as he watched her. "But that doesn't mean I forgot how much it hurt when you left."

For a moment, Omar's playful mask slipped, and she glimpsed something raw beneath it. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I messed up, Layla. I know that. But if I could go back..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I wouldn't make the same mistake twice."

They sat in silence, the words settling between them like a weight neither of them knew how to lift. But just as quickly, Omar's charming smirk was back, and he shrugged, brushing off the seriousness like he always did.

"So," he said, changing the subject with a grin, "what about you? Got anyone special in your life?"

Layla snorted, shaking her head. "I don't think you're in any position to be asking about my love life."

"Oh, come on." He winked, his tone playful. "You're sitting here with me, which means nobody's put a ring on that finger."

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help smiling. "You're unbelievable."

He leaned back, arms crossed, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "That's why you like me, right?"

And for the first time in years, she allowed herself to laugh, to feel that rush of excitement that only Omar had ever sparked in her.