Cradle Broken Glass

Chapter Eight

It had been a week since the party, and Layla hadn't talked to Stone or Jeff, and especially not Eddie. She couldn't get her head around what he had said. There was no way he could possible know what Phil was really like. She didn't even know if Eddie had spoken to him at the party, so how the hell could he have possibly formulated an opinion, especially the one that he did. As she thought about it more, the angrier she got. What right did he have to come into her life and make her feel like she was weak for being with a guy he knew nothing about? And for him to act all shy about it, like he was innocently pointing out the obvious. She was winding herself up with it, didn't know how to feel. She knew deep down that she was only getting angry at Eddie so that she wouldn't have to admit that he was right. But whether he was right or not, how could he possible think that Phil didn't treat her right, and that she wasn't happy when they'd only been at the party for an hour or two, and hadn't even talked to anyone that much. Layla sighed loudly, willing herself to just forget about it. She focused on cooking dinner as to distract herself. The hours ticked by as she ended up eating by herself, wondering why Phil wasn't back from work yet. It was a common occurrence for him to come back in the early hours of the morning without telling her, but that never stopped her from wondering where he was. By eleven o'clock, she decided to go to sleep and forget about where he could possibly be.

*****

Layla's head pounded as the alarm went off next to her head. She quickly silenced it, not wanting to wake Phil, who she could hear snoring next to her. She sighed in relief, knowing that he had come home before she'd woken up, since she would have been worried all morning if he wasn't already home. She got up and had a shower, got changed into a black skirt and blouse, and put her apron in her bag. She was making her way out to the front door of their apartment when she noticed Phil's work clothes draped across the sofa. She sighed, knowing that he probably threw them there last night, not being bothered to put them in the closet. She, however, decided to put them in the laundry pile, as they smelt like death. She made her way over to the basket they put all their dirty clothes in, reminding herself that she needed to do the cleaning when she got back from work. She emptied out the pockets of his suit jacket, not wanting any loose change or money to get stuck in the dryer, as well as pieces of paper. Last time that happened Phil didn't take it too well. She went to empty out the pockets of his trousers when she felt an odd material. She pulled it out and inspected what she held in her hand. Black lace panties. She had never owned a pair quite like this in her life, and looking at them for more than three seconds caused a deep pain to form in the depths of her stomach. She felt sick. She searched in the pockets again, pulling out a piece of paper from one, that had been folded into four.

'Had a great time last night babe, call me xxx Samantha' a Seattle number had been written down below it. She placed the underwear and the note on the kitchen side, by the sink, and put the rest of his clothes in the basket. She picked up her purse and left to go to work.