Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
“Leila, are you having a nightmare?” he asked softly, leaning closer.
Leila didn’t respond. Her breathing was uneven, her distress palpable.
Landon hesitated and then reached out, gently shaking her shoulder. Before he could say anything, her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist.
The unexpected movement startled Landon, his eyes widening as he froze mid-action.
But Leila didn’t wake. Her grip remained firm, yet her features began to relax. The tension in her brow eased, and her breathing steadied. Soft murmurs escaped her lips, unintelligible but oddly serene.
Landon stared at her for a moment, unable to make out anything. His curiosity got the better of him, and he crouched down, leaning in to listen closely. That was when he heard it.
“Landon! Landon!”
The word, so simple yet laden with meaning, sent a strange emotion rippling through Landon’s chest. It swelled, spreading through him like a wave he couldn’t contain. His gaze lingered on Leila’s sleeping face, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and something deeper-something he wasn’t ready to name.
Her grip on his wrist remained firm, and though part of him wanted to pull away, he hesitated. If he moved, he would wake her, and for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he didn’t want that to happen.
Instead, Landon shifted to the sofa, sitting quietly as his thoughts churned. His gaze rested on her, studying her features, the faint crease in her brow now smoothed out.
Leila stayed still for what felt like an eternity, confirming she wasn’t pretending-she was truly asleep.
A soft sigh escaped Landon, and after a moment, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Did you really call out to me in your dream?”
Deep down, he knew the truth. Back when Leila had yet to regain her ability to speak, the only voice she could utter was his name. But Landon dared not dwell on this, dreading to let hope take root. Hope only led to more disappointment.
When Leila finally turned over in her sleep, releasing his hand, Landon quietly stood. His gaze softened as it lingered on Leila’s peaceful face. Without thinking, he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against her cheek. It was fleeting, a moment stolen in the privacy of the empty room. Leila remained unaware.
Landon pulled his hand back reluctantly, forcing himself to look away. With a deep breath, he turned and walked away, leaving behind the sofa and the emotions he couldn’t afford to show.
Back at his desk, Landon sat down, burying himself in his work.
Meanwhile, Leila stirred slightly. For a brief moment, she thought she felt something-a faint, almost dreamlike sensation. Her eyes fluttered open, scanning the room, but it was empty. Convincing herself it was nothing more than a figment of her sleep-addled mind, she turned over and drifted back to sleep.
When Leila finally woke again, the room was dark, and the stillness felt heavier. She sat up abruptly, disoriented, her thoughts slow to piece together. The realization struck her-she had fallen asleep in Landon’s workplace.
Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced around. The chair where Landon had been sitting earlier was empty, and there was no sign of him. She didn’t know when he had left, but the realization that she had been alone in his space startled her.
Bits of the day came flooding back, and with them, the headache of remembering why she’d come in the first place. Her mind cleared quickly, and she groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration.
Lately, Leila had been plagued by an unusual fatigue that left her feeling drained at odd times. It wasn’t something she could fight off-when it hit, it pulled her under like an irresistible tide. Maybe it was the peaceful atmosphere of Landon’s workplace, or perhaps the trust she subconsciously placed in him, that made it easy for her to let her guard down and fall asleep.
Shaking off the remnants of sleep, Leila reminded herself of her purpose. She needed to find Landon and discuss matters with him immediately. Straightening her slightly rumpled clothes, she stood and headed for the door.
As Leila stepped into the hallway, the darkness outside gave her pause. It was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that made her skin prickle. Swallowing her unease, she decided to take the elevator, only to discover it wasn’t functioning. The only option left was the staircase.
Despite knowing the estate was secure, the darkened stairs loomed before her, shadowy and foreboding. Every creak of her footsteps echoed unnervingly.
Leila managed a few hesitant steps before her nerves got the better of her. With a sigh of defeat, she turned back. Pulling out her phone, she dialed Landon’s number, hoping he was still nearby. As the call connected, a sudden ringtone broke the silence, startling her.
Leila froze, her heart pounding before realization dawned. Following the sound, she traced it to the adjacent lounge. Pushing the door open, she found Landon. He was sprawled on the sofa, his tie slightly loosened, his features softened by sleep. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he hadn’t chosen the bed nearby, settling instead for the smaller, less comfortable couch.
“Mr. Kensington,” Leila called out softly, hesitating to disturb him. Landon didn’t respond at first. His eyes remained shut, his breathing steady, as though lost in deep slumber.
Leila stood there, unsure of what to do next. Her purpose had felt urgent moments ago-Landon was due to leave on a business trip soon, and she had no idea where he was going or how long he’d be gone. Waiting until his return to speak with him wasn’t an option.
She shifted anxiously, debating whether to leave and come back later when a hoarse, tired voice broke the silence.
“You’re awake!”
Leila turned, startled. Landon’s eyes had opened, his gaze settling on her with a sleepy calm. He made no move to sit up, his body still reclined on the sofa as though he had no intention of leaving his spot anytime soon.
Leila felt a rush of awkwardness. She hadn’t meant to disturb him.
“I just woke up actually. I didn’t know where you’d gone, so I called and followed the sound here.”
Her voice faltered slightly as she added, “Do you need more rest? If so, I can leave you alone. But… I’d appreciate it if you could give me five minutes when you’re awake.”
As the words tumbled out, Leila began to regret them. She was interrupting his much-needed rest-what had possessed her to speak so insistently? And why had she even fallen asleep in the first place, wasting so much time?
Landon’s eyes lingered on her with an unreadable expression, his posture unchanging. Finally, he gave her a faint nod, followed by a shake of his head.
“I might not have time later,” he murmured, his voice quiet but firm.
Hearing Landon’s response, Leila crouched down cautiously.
“So, I can talk to you now?”
Landon nodded slightly and extended a hand toward her.
“Sure. Come here,” he said softly.
Leila hesitated, unsure of his intentions, but eventually, she took a few tentative steps forward.
The moment she was within reach, Landon’s hand closed gently around her wrist.
Before she could process what was happening, he gave a light tug, pulling her forward. Leila lost her balance and stumbled into his arms.
Landon wrapped her in a firm embrace, exhaling a deep, contented sigh as though he’d been waiting for this moment.
For Landon, it felt surreal, as if he were still caught in the haze of a dream.
For Leila, it was like being struck by lightning. Her mind went blank, her body frozen in the unexpected intimacy of the moment.
As the initial shock wore off, Leila caught a faint, unusual scent lingering around Landon. Beneath the pleasant fragrance she always associated with him, there was a subtle hint of alcohol. Her thoughts clicked into place.
“You’ve been drinking,” she muttered, piecing together his uncharacteristically bold behavior.
Landon rested his chin lightly on her head, his voice low and drowsy.
“Just a few sips. Needed to loosen up a bit.”
Leila’s eyes flicked downward, spotting an almost-empty bottle peeking out from under the sofa. Her lips twitched, a mix of disbelief and exasperation bubbling up inside her.
Leila’s eyes flicked downward, spotting not just one, but several empty bottles scattered across the floor. Landon hadn’t had “just a few sips”-he’d indulged far more than that. The fact that he was still able to speak coherently was likely due to the time he’d spent sleeping it off.
Raising her head, Leila caught Landon’s gaze. Their gazes connected, and for a fleeting second, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them.
His face was as composed and handsome as ever, but the usual cold detachment in his eyes was gone. Instead, they held something unfamiliar-a faint hint of confusion, fatigue, and perhaps something softer, something unspoken.
Leila felt an unexpected pang in her chest. It wasn’t pity exactly, but a deep sense of empathy for Landon. He had never seemed to open his heart to anyone, not even his children. Vulnerability was a luxury he didn’t allow himself, and she could only imagine how heavy that mask must have become over the years.
As if drawn by a magnetic pull she barely understood, Leila reached up and grazed Landon’s brow with trembling fingertips, as though attempting to erase every burden lurking there. Instead of resisting or pushing her away, Landon quietly captured her hand in his, the warmth of his grasp undeniable.
Leila inhaled sharply, startled to find herself so close, pressed against him in a way that left no room for pretense. She tried to jerk free on instinct, forgetting that she was already snared by his embrace.
Her half-hearted struggle only made Landon tighten his hold, as though fearful she might vanish if he allowed even an inch of space.
“Don’t move,” he murmured, voice low, his words as much a plea as a command.
Heat rushed through Leila, turning her cheeks, then her whole body, feverish. Her voice quivered when she finally managed to speak.
“Landon… You’ve been drinking. You understand what’s happening, right?”