You Might Be The One (A Fan Fiction) - Luke Hemmings

Chapter 22• What's Unspoken

Leyla's POV

"I'll be back," Luke had promised, and his hand lingered on mine for a moment before he gently pulled away. I watched him walk down the path, his silhouette disappearing into the growing dusk. The front door felt heavy in my hand as I let myself inside. The quiet of the house was a welcome contrast to the lively energy of the city, and I finally felt at peace.

Xiana, now in the living room, hunched over her laptop on the coffee table, a cup of coffee steaming beside her. She looked up as I entered, her expression tired but a half-smile on her face. "Well, look whose all flushed up."

I didn't answer, just leaned back against the front door, a smile of my own playing on my lips.

"What?" she said, looking up from her screen. "You're smiling like a maniac."

"Nothing," I said, pushing off the door. "It was just... a good night."

The sound of a sharp knock at the door made us both jump. "Were you expecting anyone?" Xiana asked, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard.

I shook my head and went to the door, my mind still replaying the events of the night. When I opened it, a broad smile was plastered on my face, but it quickly faded.

Standing on my doorstep wasn't Luke. It was Michael, his expression still a mask of cold fury. But this time, he wasn't alone. Another guy stood behind him, tall and lean, with a dark, brooding look on his face. My breath caught in my throat. I didn't know him, but I felt a jolt of recognition. A sense of wrongness, like a missing puzzle piece that didn't fit.

"I knew I'd find you here," Michael said, his voice low and tight.

"What do you want?" I asked, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over me.

Xiana had risen from the couch and was now standing behind me, her arms crossed. "Hey," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Back off. She doesn't need to talk to you."

The guy behind Michael stepped forward. "Leyla," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You don't remember me, do you? I'm Marcus."

My heart hammered against my ribs. The name meant nothing, yet it felt like a ghost, a whisper in my mind. I took a step back, my hand reaching for the door.

"It's okay, we just want to talk," he said, his voice calm. He turned his gaze to Michael, a look of quiet warning passing between them.

"We came to talk to you about Luke," Michael said, his voice filled with a venom that made me shrink back. "There's a lot he hasn't told you."

"Luke told me everything I need to know," I said, my voice shaking.

Marcus sighed, a look of genuine sadness on his face. "I don't think so. The thing is, Leyla, we were all a lot closer than he's letting on. And there's a reason he and Michael have a history. It's not just about a stupid high school crush."

A cold feeling of dread began to spread through me. The new story I had built, so carefully, so hopefully, felt like it was crumbling. I looked from Marcus's sad, concerned eyes to Michael's angry, accusing ones.

"What are you talking about?" I whispered, my voice barely a sound.

Marcus looked at me, a silent plea in his eyes. "Ask him about the last night you remember. Ask him about the real reason you were fighting before the accident. He can't run from it forever."

With those words, he and Michael turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the doorway. The quiet of the house was now filled with a new and terrifying noise: the sound of a secret that was about to break.