Layla

by Colleen Hoover

I try not to think about how perfect things were in the beginning. When I do that, it solidifies the fact that I’m more than likely at fault for how it has all come to an end.

“It’s not drugs making you feel like this, Leeds.” She stands up and makes her way around to the front of the house. Again, I follow her, because if that really was an aspirin, then I’m fucked.