The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Birthdays and Battles

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm hoping to finish writing the last couple of chapters for TMMM this weekend so I thought I'd keep the distractions away by posting a new chapter to get you by. 

I was very touched by many of your reactions from the last chapter. I thought it would bore some of you but as it turns out, many of you like the story beyond Charlotte and Brandon's romance. But fear not, Brandon is back in this chapter. 

Hope you enjoy!

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After I dropped off Layla at her house that day, I didn’t hear much from her for the rest of the week.

She took herself off somewhere and just called into the TV interview after telling the station that she had some family emergency to attend to.

Layla had a big, ugly mark on her face. She couldn’t show up without having to explain a lot of things, and despite of the resolve she’d shown that day, she was probably not ready to confess to the world that she’d married a brute.

While in hiding though, she emailed in a lot of instructions for the Championettes so we could all stay on track with the fundraiser preparations. 

The fact that none of the other members seemed fazed about it bothered me. 

I had a feeling this wasn’t the first time that Layla literally didn’t show her face for a while because they seemed used to it. 

The realization only angered me more.

I was very angry at Don, and I was a little angry at Layla because I thought after the conversation we had in the car, she would start doing something.

Because I didn’t think she’d just lie there and let herself bleed to death. I thought she’d be pissed off enough to get herself back up on her feet and start fighting back. 

I’d talked to Brandon about temporarily offering my house to a family friend and his teenage charge. I didn’t get to discuss details with Layla that day so I didn’t know exactly what to tell Brandon except for a vague explanation that someone I knew was in need of a place to stay.

All he’d asked me was if there was anything he could do, and all I’d told him was that this was more than enough for now. It had to be because it was more than a week later and Layla was still MIA. 

I didn’t want to think about the possibility that something horrible had happened to her and Riley. I’d sent her an short email asking if she and the boy were alright and she’d replied with a very succinct ‘Yes’. 

I had a few choice words to respond with but I backed off. I might have already pushed her too far that day we talked in the car. If I pushed her any farther, she might completely shut out anyone who can help her get away from Don.

When the people you trusted let you down so many times, what’s to make you think the next person to come along wasn’t just getting in line to do the same? 

Preferring anything else to my grim contemplations, I kept myself busy with the Championettes’ upcoming Art Appreciation dinner this weekend. 

I’d become good at distraction. 

I didn’t want to think about Layla’s predicament or my own guilt which continued to keep me away from the people whose trust I’d violated.

When you’ve let down the people who trusted you, what’s to make you think they’re going to give you a second chance?

I kept myself so preoccupied that it didn’t occur to me that it was, out of the blue, my twentieth birthday. 

Brandon had surprised me in the morning with a thorough lovemaking followed by an elaborate breakfast in bed.