“Only once a week,” she said, taking her plate of rice across the room and sitting down across from Arlo. At a safe distance. So there was no way to lean, or touch, or even accidentally brush up against him. “And I really thought you didn’t catch on.”
“Oh, I caught on. But it wascute, how you’d try to hide things. Like more shoes, when you bought them. I was always wise to you, Layla.”
“But I was never wise to you. So, how did that happen?”
“I think we see what we want to see. Or we don’t see what we don’t want to see. I don’t think you wanted to see the real me.”
“Yet you wanted to see the real me.”
“Because there was so much to see. So many facets.” He smiled. “And secrets.”
“Secrets? Besides the shoes and the maid, and the takeaway food. Oh, and the laundry”
“You had someone do the laundry?”
She nodded, watching his face for a reaction. Which happened immediately in a broad smile and a loud laugh. “Are you kidding me? Because I never knew that.”
“I didn’t want you thinking I was too incompetent. But I didn’t know how to sort laundry or even turn on a machine.”
“So, who?”
“The woman who worked for my mother. She’d stop by a couple times a week, grab what needed to be cleaned and leave what she’d already done. So, is there a secret behind those sandals?” She referred to the well-worn pair sitting on the shelf outside the door. “Because I don’t see another pair of shoes in here.” Traditionally, shoes were left outside on a rack, and houses were entered either barefoot or in socks. It was interesting that Arlo respected tradition enough to do that in his own hut, where he wouldn’t have to if he didn’t want to. It was a nice quality, paying homage to a tradition that wasn’t his. Yet he fit this place so well. Much better than any place she’d ever tried to fit. She envied him that as it was something she doubted she’d ever have.
“Until I can afford a new pair, it’s them or nothing.”
“And I’m betting that once you have enough money for a new pair, you put that money to what you would consider a better use.” Arlo was like that. Always taking care of others before he took care of himself. Even when they’d been together and Layla had been struggling through a particularly difficult lesson in physiology or couldn’t quite remember the function of every bone in the body, he’d stop his studying to help her through hers.
There were so many little details she’d taken for granted then, which were coming back to her now. To think she’d had so much yet couldn’t hold onto it. And maybe, in some ways, she’d pushed it away, knowing she came in second to his dream—a dream that would never include her.
“I might,” he confessed. “But the soles are still intact, the straps keep them on me, and with a little tape I’m good for now. Besides, I don’t have a closet, so where would I put them since you’ve got, what? Ten pairs lined up against the wall?” He tossed her a sexy wink.
There was something to be said for a doctor who devoted everything he had to his practice. She did admire that. Much more now that she could see it than before, when it had been mere words. And while none of this was for her in the long term, she was anxious to see how it worked. To see how Arlo worked. For his sake, she hoped everything was good for him because, despite their rocky time at the end, she did want him to be happy with his choice, even though his choice didn’t include her.
“You don’t happen to still have some of those socks I bought you, do you? They’d look stunning with your sandals.”
She smiled, thinking of all the outrageous socks and underpants she’d bought him over the course of their relationship, trying to loosen him up a bit. Not that he was stodgy. But he was a man of habit. Everything was the same—all his socks alike, the same with his underpants. So every now and then she’d thrown in something a little different and hidden one of his tried-and-trues.
At first, it had simply been colors. Red socks, plaid socks. Then figures—pickles, kittens. Santas for Christmas. Hearts for Valentine’s Day. Eventually came the unicorn socks, underpants and T-shirts. And that was when he’d finally commented. Actually, his comment had been to balk at wearing them, but by the time the unicorns had arrived he’d had no choice but to wear what she’d bought as she’d hidden everything else.
“Ah, yes. The unicorns. Those got dumped in the trash shortly after I left.”
“But you wore them.”
“Did I have a choice? You took away everything else. And did I ever tell you how badly I was ridiculed in the locker room at the hospital when I changed into my scrubs?”
“You never said a word, but I heard.”
“Everybody heard, and I was so”
“Cute. Maybe even a little bit sexy.”
“In unicorns? I was going to say I was so humiliated.”
“Yeah, but remember the night you came home and paraded those unicorns around the—” This was going too far. The memories were of something she shouldn’t be remembering. Yet being around Arlo seemed to knock down all her defenses—defenses she’d struggled to raise in the few days she’d had between knowing she was coming here until arriving. “You know what? Instead of tea, I think I’d like to go back over to the hospital to make sure I’ve replaced everything I used today.”
“You can’t run from it, Layla. We have history, and considering what we were together I’m not sure you should have come.”
She pushed herself off the floor and took the plate over to the bucket that was used for washing dishes. “I’m not denying what we had, Arlo. And you’re not the reason I’m here. I want that promotion and I thought that if Ollie saw how well I could function under adversity, that would put me one step closer.”
“Is the jungle the real adversity here, or am I?”
She didn’t answer him, because she didn’t know what to say. So maybe she’d deluded herself into believing that Arlo wouldn’t be a factor in her goals. Or maybe she’d simply hoped he wouldn’t. Whatever the case, he was an obstacle and she was going to have to be very careful. Because in the span of only one day a new truth about the way she’d felt about Arlo was trying to force itself in. And it was a truth she didn’t want to admit was there.
It was interesting, getting to again know someone he’d shared a bed with for two years. In many ways she was still the same, yet in as many ways she was different. She’d never really asked questions about how he’d live his life here when they’d been together. Mostly, she’d assumed what it would be, and had let that play on the way she accepted things. Now, watching her face his reality, she wasn’t overwhelmed the way she might have been years ago. Curious, yes. Even ready to be involved. But she was looking at things differently. Even seeing him differently. Of course, he was seeing her differently as well. Time and maturity, he supposed. And also a good dose of their own, personal realities.
“Tell me about Eric,” she said, from the other side of the curtain.
It was late, but he wasn’t ready to sleep. Neither was she, as he’d been listening to her over there for the past hour, settling in, making adjustments, arranging her belongings. Getting her cot well away from the drippy ceiling so she wouldn’t feel the splash as the leaking water hit the bucket. As he recalled, she’d never been the first to go to sleep. She was more of a polyphasic