238. THE DECISION

238. THE DECISION
“NO,” Zaley said sternly.
Layla inhaled deeply, steadying herself before she could argue. But he lifted a finger to her lips, silencing her.
“Please. No.”
“Why not?” she pressed, voice trembling with both defiance and hope. “We can give Luna a good life.”
“Still no.”
“Leon,” she whispered, almost accusingly. “You care for her. She trusts only you.”
“That’s exactly why I’m trying to help her by finding a family who can raise her like their own. That’s all we can do.”
“But that’s not all you want to do. You want more than just helping. Don’t you dare hide it from me.”
Zaley lowered his head, the fight in his chest evident. Still, he shook it stubbornly.
“This shall pass. I’m… feeling pity for her. That’s it.”
Layla reached for his hand, her diamond ring catching the dim light, as his collar suddenly felt suffocating. He unbuttoned it, eyes turning away toward the car window, as if distance might help.
But distance didn’t help.
Because Luna had cried when he left. She had tried to follow him.
A person who wasn’t Layla. Who wasn’t Lilly? And yet her tears still wavered him.
He should not care this much. He should not feel guilty for leaving a girl he barely knew.
And yet he did.
Kade and Kirill saved her, too. They walked away. He couldn’t.
Why?
Other girls had parents. Luna had no one.
Maybe that was it.
Or maybe it was guilt, the guilt of not always being there for his own girls, twisting him into wanting to protect her too.
And now Layla had said the unthinkable. The adoption.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, as though soothing him.
That broke him.
“You’ll be fine?” His voice cracked into something raw. “You are a giver naturally.”
“No, I’m not. Remember? I never shared my ice cream with you.”
He gave a humourless chuckle. “You’ve become one, Layla. Seven years. You fought alone for seven years. You don't want to go to college, which was your biggest dream, because it was already too much work. You want rest. You deserve rest. You need it. Not another responsibility. Not another child. Parenting doesn’t end in four years; it’s lifelong. And I fucking want you to be peaceful, happy. No more burdens. No more worrying. No more taking care of someone else. You don’t need another child.”
Layla cupped his face, forcing his eyes back to hers. “You’re right. I don’t want another child. The thought terrifies me. I’ll never be ready, because no one is ever ready. But if you had someone, when you were her age, who took you under their wing… would your life not have been different?”
That’s how she saw Luna. She saw him in her.
And he… he saw Layla in her.
“No,” he muttered. “Go home. I’m getting late.”
“Then let’s compromise,” Layla said softly but firmly. “We keep her until we find a good family.”
Zaley closed his eyes, as though the weight of her words pressed against his very ribs.
“No. We can’t give her that hope. Imagine how cruel it would feel to belong, to feel loved, only to be abandoned again.”
“It hurts like hell. I know,” Layla whispered, her voice breaking. “But imagine being with someone you trust. Imagine being safe, even if it’s not forever.”
He shook his head. “I can’t give her hopes, Sprinkles, only to rip them away.”
“I agree. Hope is wicked. But sometimes…” she leaned closer, her hand slipping over his heart, “…sometimes it gives courage. If Luna comes with us, if she spends time with us, maybe she’ll learn to let go of her fears.”
Zaley’s jaw tightened. He pressed his palm against his temple, as though fighting a war inside his own head.
Layla stayed quiet, watching him. She knew better than to push now. The silence was where he decided things.
Finally, he exhaled, voice rough.
“I won’t adopt her.”
Layla’s lips parted, ready to argue again, but he cut her off.
“I won’t. That’s final.” He leaned back in his seat, hand dragging down his face. “But… we can foster her. For a while.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean—”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” he said sharply, pinning her with a look. “This isn’t our decision alone. If Lilly’s not okay with it, then it ends there.”
Layla blinked, surprised. “Lilly?”
“Yes. She’s our daughter.” His voice softened, though the weight in it didn’t lift. “I won’t bring another child into her home, into her world, unless she wants it too. If she says no, Luna goes to another family.”
Layla searched his face, seeing not just the ruthless man others feared but the father who put his little girl above all else.
“And if she says yes?” she asked quietly.
Zaley looked away, out the car window, where the city blurred into streaks. He didn’t answer right away. His throat worked, and when he spoke, it was almost reluctant.
“Then Luna stays. For a while. Just… until we find her a real family.”
But in his chest, the guilt stirred again, warning him that nothing about this would be “just for a while.”

“No.” It was Raya.
She was pacing Layla’s living room, biting her nails, her footsteps echoing against the hardwood.
“No fucking way. Do you even realise how big a responsibility a child is? Layla, you are finally getting everything you deserve in life. Everything you fought for. So why would you drag this onto yourself?”
Layla hesitated, fingers twisting in her lap. “I… don’t know how to put it. But no matter how happy we are in the future, the guilt of not being there for me will always pull Leon down. He loved me that much. He still does, maybe even more now. He’ll never forgive himself for the years he lost. But…” she drew in a breath, her voice softening, “I have this strong feeling that helping Luna will help him too.”
“No fucking way,” Raya snapped, louder this time. “That’s selfish. If this is some idea Zaley cooked up, tell him to go to hell. He doesn’t get to put a huge responsibility on you just to soothe his conscience.”
Layla rose and crossed the room, steadying her best friend with both hands on her shoulders. Her touch was firm, grounding.
“He said no,” Layla admitted. “He doesn’t want to give me another burden either.”
Raya’s lips parted, but Layla kept going, her voice quiet but unwavering.
“At first, I thought it was selfish, too. Then I saw her, Luna. Searching for him. Not Zaley. Her protector. She believes she has one. We never had that when we were kids, Raya, neither Leon nor I. We fought for ourselves until we found each other. Luna’s only two. She deserves better. She deserves to be loved, to be safe, to worry about broccoli on her plate… not predators in the shadows.”
Raya’s shoulders sagged. She sank onto the couch, the fire in her dimming into weary concern. “I get it,” she said finally. “I understand what you’re trying to say. But Layla… no matter how involved a man is, it’s always the mother who stays up the extra hour, does the extra thing, carries the extra weight. I don’t want that for you. I want you to be free. I want you to be happy. I don’t care about anyone else, I only care about my girls.”
Layla lowered herself onto the couch beside her, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I know. You decided last year not to have kids because you didn’t want anything to take you away from Lilly. Remember?”
Raya’s brows shot up. “What are you trying to say?”
“If you were right then…” Layla tilted her head, meeting her friend’s eyes with quiet certainty. “…I’m right now.”
Raya leaned back, exhaling slowly. “And your fiancé? He clearly said no.”
A playful smirk curled on Layla’s lips. “Do you really think he can say no to me?”
Raya blinked, stunned. “Layla—”
She let her head fall back against the couch, laughter spilling out, unguarded. “If he tries, I’ll just convince him in bed.”
Raya gasped, scandalised. “Who are you? And what the hell have you done to my best friend?”
Layla giggled. "Nothing is confirmed yet. We need Lilly's blessings on this. I'm not sure how she would react."
"My girl will start investigating the meaning of foster first," Raya said and immediately covered
her nose. "What the fuck was that smell? Whatever it is, dispose of it."