Chapter 41

Marshall's POV

Groaning, I stretched out in bed, feeling the dull ache settling into my muscles. No denying it—I'm not in my 20s anymore. A full night of mind-blowing sex is always gonna take its toll the next day.

Still... I've definitely still got it.

Lifting my head, I noticed the rumpled sheets beside me were empty.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered, sitting up and glancing around the room, hoping to hear the sound of the shower. "Again?"

Nope. Silence. She really just dipped out after that?

I rolled my eyes, cracking my neck, when something on the bedside table caught my attention—a folded note, sitting next to Leila's dog tag. I reached over and picked it up, already bracing myself for whatever part of her twisted bipolar bullshit she'd written down this time. Not that it was a problem; her unpredictability was what kept things exciting.

I unfolded the note, eyes narrowing as I read:

Marshall,

Before you freak out, no, I haven't ghosted you again. When you're ready, bring my tag back, and I'll explain everything. But be prepared—you might not feel so great after learning about our past together.

Leila.

I grimaced, tossing the note down next to me as I rubbed my face. This could be about anything. If it was from the late 2000s, hell, I was that messed up back then.

What if I had a hidden kid or something? Nah... she's crazy, but not that kind of crazy.

Still, the thought lingered. What if she had kept something like that from me?

I glanced at the clock. And now I was late. Perfect.

Jumping out of bed, I grabbed a pair of boxers, sweats, and a T-shirt, hopping around while shoving my feet into socks and sneakers. I snatched the dog tag off the nightstand, jogging out of the room and straight to the kitchen to grab my keys.

Sliding into the car, I started the engine just as my phone rang through the speakers.

"Where the fuck are you? You're late," Paul's voice crackled.

"Good morning to you too, Paul. I'm doing great, thanks for asking," I snorted. "I'm on my way now."

"Marshall, I'm tired."

"Maybe try getting some sleep? I don't know, man, I ain't a doctor."

"Fuck you, just hurry up."

The call disconnected, and I smirked. Ain't nobody killing my high today. Well, except maybe whatever the hell Leila's got to tell me.

I pulled the dog tag out of my pocket at a red light, rolling it between my fingers. Whatever she's holding onto, it's definitely not gonna be good. The light turned green, and I stuffed the tag back into my pocket, driving the rest of the way to the studio.

After parking, I jogged inside, nodding at the receptionist who gave me a startled look. Heading to the boardroom, I could already hear the low murmur of voices from behind the door. I took a breath, grabbed the handle, and stepped inside.

"Marshall, so nice of you to finally join us."

"So, wanna tell me why you were late?" Paul asked, sitting across from me at my desk.

"Slept in," I shrugged, flipping through a magazine.

"You look like you've been up all night."

"What I do in my free time is none of your business."

He snorted. "You're right, rolling around with women all night is your business. But being late to an important meeting is mine."

"I said I'm sorry."

Paul's phone rang, and he held up a hand as he answered it, stepping out of the office. I rolled my eyes, mumbling to myself, "Big-headed motherfucker."

Leaning back in my chair, I kicked my feet up on the desk, still flipping the dog tag between my fingers. I couldn't stop thinking about last night—how raw, how intense it all was. I mean, I've never really had that deep of a connection with women, not even with Stella. It's always been a struggle to connect. But with Leila last night? Damn, it was different.

There was an unspoken trust, this natural rhythm between us that just clicked. And yet, it's got me messed up.

I glanced at the clock—it was nearly the end of the day, and my nerves had been eating at me for hours. Standing up, I headed out, passing Paul on my way.

"Where you going—"

"Bye, Paul. Love you," I shouted over my shoulder, already making my way to the car. I had shit to do and a beautiful, toxic woman to see.

I wasn't sure what I was walking into, though. My memory was still blank about that first week with her. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

———

A little while later, I found myself at Leila's door, knocking gently. When she opened it, she looked different—casual, face clear of makeup, hair thrown up into a messy bun, wearing gym shorts and a tank top. She stepped aside, letting me in without a word. I walked into the living room, turning to face her once she was behind me.

"Marshall—"

"Hold up," I said, handing her the dog tag. "I'm ready to listen, but you messed me up this morning by ghosting my ass, made me late, and now I need a shower. Can I have one?"

"Sure," she said simply. "I'll grab you a towel."

I was caught off guard by her lack of attitude as she disappeared and returned with a towel. "Down the hall to your left. Feel free to use whatever you need."

Still confused, I followed her directions to the bathroom, stripped down, and stood under the hot water, letting it calm my racing thoughts.

Once I was done, I threw on my sweats and T-shirt, heading back to the living room where Leila sat, waiting. She gestured for me to sit down next to her.

"Just so you know, I'm commando right now," I smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "So if you feel awkward, I'm not sorry."

She laughed softly but quickly settled back into seriousness.

"The reason you have my tag... it's because we swapped. You gave me yours to remember our time together, and I gave you mine."

"That was sweet of me," I smirked. "We spent time together?"

She nodded. "Yeah, you spent an entire week with me."

"A whole week, huh? Did I rock your world?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to know or not?"

"Alright, fine. How did we meet?"

"On my 21st birthday," she started. "I'd just walked out of a terrible dinner with my parents and went to a bar alone. I was supposed to meet Alec to go see Christian, but I saw you sitting in a booth, drinking by yourself."

"Yeah, did that a lot back then. What year was this?"

"December 2007."

"Damn, Husky Marshall, huh?"

"There was nothing wrong with you back then, except you were high and drunk. You asked me to sit down, and we hung out for a while. When it was time to leave, you tried to drive yourself, but I offered to take you since I was sober."

"What a birthday—babysitting a drug addict. Must've been fun."

She huffed. "Shut up and listen."

I raised my hands in surrender and nodded.

"As a fan, it hurt to see you like that. But when you asked me to hang out, I couldn't say no. I didn't want to leave you alone, and... I really wanted to spend time with you. I mean, how often does someone get the chance to hang with the person they admire most?"

"How did it turn into a week?"

"We ended up sleeping together, and after that, you didn't let me leave. You said I made you feel calm, even though most of the time you were too high to make sense."

She bit her lip before continuing. "You were sweet, though. Kind, caring... told me I was beautiful every chance you got. But by the end of the week, everything changed. You were cold, vindictive, and cruel."

I waited for her to keep going.

"By that last afternoon, you'd completely changed," she began, her voice trembling. "You told me I was just something easy, convenient—someone you kept around because I happened to be there. You called me clingy, pathetic. And when I tried to make sense of it, tried to figure out what went wrong so fast, you looked me dead in the eye and said, 'Your brother was the lucky one to die. It was probably the only way he could ever escape you.'"

I rubbed a hand over my face, guilt twisting in my gut. "Drugs do that... but it's no excuse. I'm so sorry. That was a horrible thing to say."

I couldn't lie. Even I was disgusted with myself.

"I gave you my virginity," she added quietly. "And you turned around and tore my heart out."

I froze. "I took your what now?"

"My virginity," Leila repeated.

"Did I know?"

"I told you. And you treated it like it was an honor, until you turned into someone else."

It was a lot to process. What an asshole.

"Look Leila," I say as I stand "I'm not running away, I need to digest all this, It's a tough pill to swallow, I promise I'll be back soon, Give me a moment to process how much of a complete asshole I was with you"

She nods and stands slowly "I understand"

"I don't want the anger I have for myself to take over this conversation, because we both know what I'm like"

We walk to the front door and she leans up and kisses me before I go.

It's not deep, lustful or violent.

It's sweet, significant and soft.