Chapter 10 – The First Real Conversation
The week after Adrian gave me one hour a week with Layla felt lighter.
I still followed the rules. I didn't go to the office. I didn't ask about Nadia unless it was necessary. But every Wednesday at 4 p.m. I was at Mrs. Cole's apartment, sitting on the rug, building block towers with a little girl who called me "Lila, my friend."
On Wednesday, Layla drew the house with three people again — Mama, Baba, and Lila.
She pointed at the third figure and said, "This is you."
I smiled and hugged her.
When the hour was over, she hugged me tight and said, "See you next week, Lila."
I kissed her forehead and left, feeling a warmth in my chest I hadn't felt since my mother died.
When I got home at 5:15 p.m., Adrian was already there.
He was sitting on the couch.
"You went to see Layla," he said.
"Yes. One hour, like you said."
He nodded.
"How was she?"
"She's happy. She drew a picture of the three of us."
He looked at me, and I saw a flicker of something — not anger, not pain, just… interest.
"What did she draw?"
"A house. She said the third person is me."
He was silent for a moment.
"Thank you for being careful with her."
"You're welcome."
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 18 – She went to see Layla for one hour.*
Under it, in smaller writing:
*She's not her. She's good with Layla.*
I closed the notebook and smiled.
The next morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 8 p.m. he came home.
He saw me in the kitchen making dinner and said, "What are you making?"
"Chicken with rosemary."
"It smells good."
"Thank you."
He sat at the table.
We ate.
For the first time in ten days, we talked while we ate.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"Busy. Meetings all day."
"Anything interesting?"
"Not really."
"How's Layla?"
"She's fine. My mother said she talked about you all week."
I smiled. "I'm glad."
He nodded and kept eating.
After dinner, he didn't go straight to his office.
He stayed at the table.
I cleared the plates and sat back down.
"Adrian, can I ask you something?"
He looked at me.
"What was Nadia like?"
He froze.
I held up my hand. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
He looked down at the table, then back at me.
"She was… kind," he said quietly. "She laughed a lot. She loved to cook. She loved Layla more than anything."
I nodded.
"She would have liked you," he added.
The words hit me like a warm wave.
"Thank you for telling me."
He nodded and went to his office.
I sat at the table, my heart lighter.
He had talked about Nadia without shutting down.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 19 – She asked about Nadia. I told her she was kind.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She's listening.*
I closed the notebook.
The next day, Thursday, Adrian came home at 8 p.m.
I had made moussaka.
He ate, said "Thank you," and stayed at the table.
"Lila," he said.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for being kind to Layla."
"You're welcome."
He hesitated, then said, "I know it's not easy for you."
"It's not hard," I said. "I like her."
He looked at me, and I saw gratitude in his eyes.
"Thank you."
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 20 – I thanked her for being kind to Layla.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She's kind.*
I closed the notebook.
Friday came.
Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 3 p.m. I got a text from Mrs. Cole:
*Layla has a fever again.*
My heart dropped.
I wanted to go, but I remembered the rule: one hour, once a week. Today was Friday.
I texted back: *Is she okay?*
Mrs. Cole replied: *The doctor gave her medicine. She's resting.*
I texted: *Tell her I'm thinking of her.*
Mrs. Cole: *I will.*
I spent the rest of the day worrying.
At 8 p.m. Adrian came home.
He looked tired.
"How is Layla?" I asked.
"She's better. The fever broke."
"Thank God."
He nodded and went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 21 – Layla had a fever. She's better.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She cares.*
I closed the notebook.
Saturday morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 10 a.m. I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard his phone buzz on the counter.
The screen lit up: *Mom calling.*
I hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?"
"Lila, dear," Mrs. Cole said. "Layla is asking for you."
"I can't come today, Mrs. Cole. It's not my day."
"I know. I just wanted to tell you she's asking."
"Tell her I love her and I'll see her on Wednesday."
"I will, dear."
She hung up.
I sat on the couch, feeling torn.
I wanted to be there for Layla.
But I also didn't want to break Adrian's trust again.
At 8 p.m. Adrian came home.
He saw me on the couch and said, "My mother called you."
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
"Layla is asking for me."
He nodded.
"Did you go?"
"No. It's not my day."
He looked at me, and I saw respect in his eyes.
"Thank you for respecting the rule."
"You're welcome."
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 22 – She didn't go see Layla. She respected the rule.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She's respectful.*
I closed the notebook.
Sunday morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 1 p.m. my father called.
"Lila, how are you, habibti?"
"I'm fine, Baba. How are you?"
"I'm better. When can I see you?"
"Anytime, Baba. You can come to the apartment."
"Is it okay with the man?"
"Yes, Baba. He said you can visit."
"Good. I'll come Tuesday."
"Okay, Baba. I love you."
"I love you too."
I hung up.
At 8 p.m. Adrian came home.
He saw me and said, "How's your father?"
"He's better. He's coming to visit on Tuesday."
"Good."
"Is it okay?"
"Yes. One day is fine."
"Thank you."
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 23 – Her father is coming to visit on Tuesday.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She has a family.*
I closed the notebook.
Monday morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
I spent the day cleaning the apartment, making sure it was perfect for my father's visit.
At 8 p.m. Adrian came home.
He saw the apartment clean and said, "You cleaned."
"Yes. My father is coming tomorrow."
"Good."
"Thank you for letting him come."
"You're welcome."
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 24 – Her father is coming tomorrow.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She has a father who loves her.*
I closed the notebook.
Tuesday morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 10 a.m. my father arrived.
He looked better, stronger.
"This apartment is beautiful, Lila," he said.
"It's not mine, Baba."
"I know. But you're living here."
"Yes."
We talked, ate lunch together, and he rested on the couch.
At 8 p.m. Adrian came home.
He saw my father on the couch and said, "Mr. Ahmed."
"Adrian," my father said, standing up.
"Thank you for letting me stay yesterday," my father said.
"It's nothing," Adrian replied.
They talked for fifteen minutes — about my father's health, about the weather, about nothing important.
Then my father said, "Lila tells me you're a good man."
Adrian looked at me, then back at my father.
"I'm trying to be."
My father nodded and patted Adrian's shoulder.
At 9 p.m. my father left.
After he left, Adrian came out of his office.
"Your father is a good man," he said.
"Yes, he is."
"Thank you for having him here."
"You're welcome."
He went back to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 25 – Her father visited. He's a good man.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She has people who love her.*
I closed the notebook.
Wednesday morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 4 p.m. I was at Mrs. Cole's apartment with Layla.
We played, we read, we laughed.
When the hour was over, Layla hugged me.
"See you next week, Lila."
"I'll see you next week, habibti."
I kissed her forehead and left.
When I got home at 5:15 p.m., Adrian was there.
"You went to see Layla," he said.
"Yes."
"How was she?"
"She's happy."
"Good."
"Thank you for letting me see her."
"You're welcome."
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 26 – She went to see Layla for one hour.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She's becoming part of our life.*
I closed the notebook.
My heart was pounding.
*Our life.*
He had written *our life.*
I sat on the bed, staring at the words.
Was Adrian starting to see me as part of his life?
The next morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 8 p.m. he came home.
He saw me in the kitchen and said, "What are you making?"
"Vegetable soup."
"It smells good."
"Thank you."
We ate at the table.
After dinner, he didn't go to his office.
He stayed at the table.
"Lila," he said.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for respecting the rule about Layla."
"You're welcome."
He hesitated.
"Lila, I want to apologize."
"For what?"
"For being cold to you. For treating you like a replacement."
I looked at him, surprised.
"I know you're not Nadia," he said. "I know you're Lila."
Tears filled my eyes. "Thank you for saying that."
He nodded.
"I'm still grieving," he said. "But I'm trying to see you as you."
"I know. I'm trying too."
He nodded and went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 27 – I apologized to her. I know she's Lila.*
Under it:
*She's not her. She's Lila.*
I closed the notebook.
I lay in bed and cried — happy tears this time.
Adrian had said it out loud.
I'm not her. I'm Lila.
The next morning Adrian left at 7 a.m.
At 8 p.m. he came home.
He saw me and said, "How was your day?"
"Good. Yours?"
"Good."
He sat at the table.
I served dinner.
We ate.
After dinner, he stayed.
"Lila," he said.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for being you."
"You're welcome."
He smiled — a small, real smile.
It was the first time I had seen him smile since I moved in.
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 28 – I thanked her for being her.*
Under it:
*She's Lila.*
I closed the notebook.
I lay in bed and whispered to the dark room,
"Maybe this can work."