Layla shows up at my office two weeks before the wedding.
My assistant buzzes. "There's a Layla Ross here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment but says it's important."
I almost tell her to send Layla away. We had our moment at the cemetery. Said what needed saying. Made our peace, such as it was.
But something makes me say, "Give me five minutes. Then send her in."
I use those five minutes to prepare. Center myself. Remember what Dr. Chen said about boundaries and healing and not owing anyone my time or energy.
When Layla walks in, she looks different. Healthier. Her hair's shorter, sun-lightened like she's been spending time outdoors. No designer clothes, just jeans and a simple sweater. She looks like a real person instead of Victoria's carefully curated doll.
"Thank you fo
