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

Chapter 29• Solace

The next morning, Leyla was back in her city apartment. The golden light that had filled her living room the day before was now a pale, filtered glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her office. The space was a modern, minimalist dream—all glass, polished concrete, and stark lines. It was a blank canvas, ready for her to fill with her vision.

Her workday began with a walk-through of a new project—a community center in a developing neighborhood. Leyla's team was waiting for her in the conference room. First, there was Ben, her senior associate, a pragmatic man in his late forties who had a dry wit and a keen eye for structural integrity. Then there was Clara, a young, brilliant junior designer whose enthusiasm was infectious.

"Morning, team," Leyla said, her voice confident and professional. She took her seat at the head of the long table, the room buzzing with a focused energy. "Let's review the new schematics for the community center. I want to talk about how we can integrate the green space with the main hall to create a more fluid transition."

For the next hour, Leyla was in her element. She moved with a silent, graceful authority, her hands flying across the digital screen as she annotated designs and explained her concepts. She spoke about light, flow, and the human experience, her passion for her work so palpable it filled the room. This was her life's true calling, the ambition that had once been a source of conflict now a deep well of fulfillment.

Her colleagues respected her not just for her talent, but for the quiet strength with which she led. They didn't know the story of her past, of the car accident or the boy who had lied. They saw a brilliant architect who was shaping the city's future, a woman who commanded respect and delivered a vision. And Leyla reveled in the simplicity of it. Here, she was just Leyla, the architect, the designer, the artist. The person she had always been meant to be.

The day passed quickly, a blur of sketches, meetings, and emails. In the late afternoon, as the city lights began to flicker on outside her window, Leyla sat at her desk, her mind wandering back to the conversation she had with Calum. She was still single, and she was happy. She had a life filled with purpose, friends who were her family, and a career that was her passion. She was building things, not just with steel and glass, but with every choice she made, every day she lived.

Her focus, however, was broken by a soft knock on the doorframe. It was Clara, the junior designer with the infectious enthusiasm. "Hey, Leyla," she said, a nervous energy in her voice. "That idea you had for the main hall, with the skylight—it's brilliant. I've been thinking about it all morning."

Leyla smiled. She appreciated Clara's passion. "Thanks, Clara. It's a key part of the design."

"Yeah," Clara said, shuffling her feet. She paused for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I was wondering... if you're not busy, maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? I'd love to pick your brain about... well, everything."

Leyla's internal monologue went on high alert. The subtle invitation wasn't just about design. She recognized the unspoken interest, the hopeful look in Clara's eyes. It was a familiar pattern, a new variation of an old song. For so long, her life had been defined by a deep, complicated relationship with a boy who had lied, and now that her world was finally her own, she wasn't ready to let anyone else in. She liked the quiet order of her life, the solitude of her apartment, the singular focus on her work.

"I'd love to, Clara," Leyla said, her voice warm but firm, "but I'm swamped this week with the community center project. But thanks for asking."

Clara's face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered, a professional mask in place. "No problem at all! Maybe another time." She gave a quick, awkward nod and left.

Leyla watched her go, a small pang of guilt in her chest. She wasn't trying to be unkind; she was just being honest. She was at a point in her life where she didn't need to fill the empty spaces. She had worked so hard to build this life, and she wasn't ready to share it. Not with a colleague, and certainly not with anyone who wanted something more.

The sun began to set, casting long, orange shadows across her desk. She looked at her phone, and a message from Xiana popped up. Did you make it back okay? Leyla smiled, a warm wave of affection washing over her. She knew she wasn't alone. She had her family, and she had her friends.

As she packed her bag, her mind drifted to dinner. The fridge was mostly empty. She could order in, a comforting constant in her city life, or she could go to her favorite pizza place. The one on the corner of her street. The one with the checkered tablecloths and the warm, welcoming smell of garlic and basil. She hadn't been there for a while, too lost in work and in her old memories to find the time.

The decision was a small one, but it felt momentous. She could stay in her apartment, in her sanctuary, and let the world come to her. Or she could go out and meet it. The girl who had once run from her life now had the choice to face it.

She walked out of the office, the city lights twinkling like a new constellation against the twilight sky. She wasn't just building a life; she was living it. And she was hungry for a real slice of it.