Chapter 32
It was late at night at the Encounter Bar. The dim lights and the hum of conversation filled the air, but Layton’s enthusiasm was palpable as he grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him towards the stage.
“Come on, maybe you’ll like her,” Layton urged, his voice laced with excitement.
Alex wasn’t really interested in the show and tried to tug Layton upstairs for a drink instead.
As they were making their way up, Layton glanced back at the stage, his eyes widening. He suddenly tugged on Alex’s arm, almost making them stumble. “Alex, look! Isn’t that Ellie?” he exclaimed.
Alex followed his gaze and froze. Ellie was on stage, singing in a white dress, her voice carrying over the crowd. For a brief moment, she seemed to glow under the spotlight, but then Alex’s face darkened.
“Wow, she looks amazing,” Layton commented, genuinely impressed. “She’s really grown up.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. He shot Layton a warning look, and Layton quickly fell silent, sensing the tension in Alex.
“She looks like a ghost with all that makeup. It’s terrible,” Alex muttered under his breath, trying to downplay the unease that had crept into him.
Layton, noticing the shift in Alex’s demeanor, raised an eyebrow. “Something’s off with her,” he observed, his voice lowering. “Is your girl going through a breakup? She sounds like she’s about to cry.”
Alex just snorted coldly, brushing off Layton’s remark. He turned and headed straight upstairs, eager to avoid any further confrontation.
During the break, Ellie was heading to the restroom when she spotted Alex standing in the hallway, smoking. Her heart skipped a beat. She stopped momentarily, her breath catching in her throat. But the sight of him sent a jolt of discomfort through her, and she quickly decided to avoid him. She pivoted and walked toward a restroom on a different floor.
She’d had enough of Alex and his games. Ever since she had come back, he’d been nothing but a source of stress—constantly trying to provoke her, pushing her buttons. And that morning at her apartment, his cruelty had been especially hard to ignore. She hadn’t argued back, but that didn’t mean his words hadn’t hurt.
No, she had no intention of putting herself in another uncomfortable situation with him. If she could help it, she’d rather never see him again.
As Ellie rounded the corner, she almost collided with Layton, who was grinning at her with his usual charm. She didn’t even acknowledge him, not lifting her gaze as she walked past him, lost in her thoughts.
At Haley’s birthday party, it was Layton who had helped Alex—stealing something from her brother’s pocket. If it hadn’t been for him, Ellie and her brother wouldn’t have been so embarrassed. The thought of it made Ellie’s stomach churn, but she didn’t look back. She wasn’t in the mood to engage with anyone, especially not Layton.
Layton, sensing her reluctance to engage, let her pass without another word. He pulled his hand back and walked toward Alex, who was still standing outside. Layton gave him a disapproving glance.
“At Haley’s birthday party, I helped you out, but I ended up upsetting Ellie,” Layton said, his voice laced with some frustration. “Just now, she didn’t even acknowledge me—just turned and left.”
Alex stared at the spot where Ellie had disappeared, his expression unreadable. “If she doesn’t want to call you, that’s fine. It’s not like it’s a big deal,” he said dismissively.
Layton glanced down the hallway, watching the empty space where Ellie had been. With a slight grin, he teased, “If it’s not a big deal, then why don’t you just let her go back to her family?”
Alex’s eyes flickered, but he quickly masked his emotions. Layton pressed on, “Since they’re ignoring you, what are you still doing here? Let’s go grab a drink.”
“I’ll finish this cigarette first. You go ahead,” Alex muttered, nudging Layton away, his tone cold.
As Layton left, Alex stayed behind, his gaze distant. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie—about the way she had walked away from him, every word they’d exchanged hanging in the air between them. The truth was, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, and that maybe, just maybe, he had lost her for good.
