Chapter 30
I’ll Do My Best

After a hearty dinner, Layla and Kyle strolled through the night streets with ice cream in hand. Layla had insisted they should go back and prepare for tomorrow, but Kyle was stubborn.

“Walking it off is part of proper preparation for tomorrow.”

He sounded so confident that Layla couldn’t argue.

“Fine, but only a little. Hey, Kyle.”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you want to marry me?”

Her lips, still tinged with the chill of ice cream, formed the question hesitantly.

“If it’s because you pity me…”

“Layla Llewellyn.”

His voice, unusually cold, stopped her short. Before she could react, Kyle blocked her path.

“You think I’m the kind of lunatic who’d marry out of pity?”

The sharpness in his unfamiliar expression scared her into silence.

“Yeah, the world’s full of lunatics, so maybe there are men like that. But I’m not one of them.”

Kyle drew a deep breath, as though swallowing anger.

“Why? Because I love you.”

“Kyle…”

“That’s the only reason. Because I love Layla Llewellyn.”

Looking down at her tense face, he gave a strained laugh.

“And tell me, who’s pitying who? I’m the one who’s been rejected hundreds of times. If anyone’s pitiful here, it’s me, Layla.”

He ruffled her hair lightly, then walked ahead, not wanting her to see the foolish grin tugging at his mouth. Sensing his mood, Layla kept a single step behind.

In silence, they arrived at the hotel.

“Go on in,” Kyle said with a smile.

“Oh—right, I almost forgot.”

He glanced at the melting ice cream cup in his hand, then lifted his eyes slowly.

“Marry me, Layla.”

It had become his daily ritual. Even knowing she’d say no, it felt strange to end the day without it. But tonight, instead of her usual gentle but firm rejection, Layla was quiet.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, studying her. Then her lips parted, and the words that came out nearly made him doubt his hearing.

“Okay.”

“…Layla?”

Startled, Kyle dropped his ice cream. It splattered over his shoe, but he didn’t care.

“Wait… did you just say yes? That you’ll marry me?”

Flustered, she lowered her eyes and nodded.

“With me? You’ll marry me?”

His voice shook as he asked again. She glanced up, embarrassed, and gave another small nod.

Layla had meant to say more, but before she could, Kyle let out a wild shout and scooped her into his arms.

“Uwaaaaaaah!”

People turned to stare. Layla shrieked in alarm. But Kyle spun her in circles, uncaring.

The spring night air was sweet with fragrance.

That night, Kyle dreamed. A dream where he and Layla were married, living an ordinary happiness as Mr. and Mrs. Etman.

He remembered how she once said, shyly, that if she ever had a home of her own, she’d want a small garden. That when roses she had tended bloomed, she would feel true happiness.

In his dream, Layla was tending that very garden. Around her, children played—beautiful children with golden hair like theirs. The sunlight was bright, the laughter merry.

“Daddy!”

A little girl who looked just like Layla ran to him. A smaller child bounced in place, giggling. Kyle swept his daughter up in his arms and walked toward Layla. A soft breeze carried the scent of roses. Layla smiled at him, more beautiful than even the dream itself.

Kyle woke still wrapped in that happiness. The glow carried him through his exam, which he aced with ease. That dream is going to come true, he thought. How could the world hold such a blessing?

By the time he left the exam hall, he felt like he could soar into the sky. When he saw Layla waiting on a bench outside, book in hand, he almost did.

“Layla!”

She closed the book and tucked it into her bag, then approached with her light, graceful step.

“How was it? Hard? Do you think you did well?”

“You really doubt me?” Kyle tilted his chin proudly.

“Layla, I’m Kyle Etman. The one who doesn’t know how to be second place.”

“Ohhh, right, right.”

Layla couldn’t help laughing.

“I must have forgotten how smart Mr. Etman is.”

“Wow. That stings. You’d better remember from now on.”

Grinning, he stole her hand. She flinched but didn’t pull away. The spring sunlight lit his smile brilliantly.

“You really think you did well?” she asked softly, worry in her eyes.

“Don’t worry. The only tragedy that could keep us from going to university together isn’t happening.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Her cheeks warmed, peach-pink. Kyle’s throat went dry. If only they weren’t on campus, he might have dared to kiss her. But no—if he startled her now, she’d shrink away. He’d have to wait.

Shovel handle.

He thought of it again: the dirt-stained shovel and Uncle Bill’s chilling smile.

Hand in hand, they wandered the campus paths—from the medical building where Kyle would study, to the biology building where Layla hoped to be. They laughed, measured the distance, dreamed aloud.

“You’ll pass, but me… maybe not,” Layla murmured as they stopped outside her building.

“Why? You said you did fine.”

“I did. But they take so few girls.”

Kyle sighed. “That’s true.”

Universities had only begun admitting women a few years ago—and only a handful. For them, the threshold was much higher.

“You’ll get in,” he said firmly. “Who else would they choose, if not you?”

“You’re too confident.”

“Not at all. My conclusion is based on eight years of solid evidence.”

“Eight years… has it really been that long?”

The memory of that day on the post coach to Arvis was still vivid. Yet time had flown, and the boy beside her had grown into a man.

“What is it?” Kyle asked, flustered under her thoughtful gaze.

“You’ve grown so much.”

Her tone was solemn, and it made him ache with affection. She could be so unexpectedly earnest, and it was unbearably endearing.

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle.

“Enough to be your husband.”

Her sharp intake of breath made him grin wider.

“Do you like that?”

“I… I don’t know.”

She turned away, hurrying her steps. Watching her blush, Kyle’s eyes softened with warmth.

On the walk back, Kyle painted pictures of their future—home, life, children, and the new history of the Etman family they would build together. Layla listened, eyes shining with tentative hope. He thought, half in jest, half in awe, Maybe that’s why I was born—to make these dreams real for her.

“How many kids should we have? I want both sons and daughters.”

“Hmm… maybe five?”

The number floored him, but she smiled.

“That way, no one would ever be lonely. They’d have each other. A house full of faces that resemble us—that would be so nice.”

Her brightness stung him a little. That dazzling smile seemed to carry the shadows of loneliness she had known.

“Five, huh? Then I’ll do my best!”

“Huh?”

His sudden declaration made her eyes go wide. Both their faces flushed.

“T-that’s not what I meant!” Kyle sputtered, backing up.

“You think that’s all I think about?”

“I didn’t mean it like that either!” Layla shot back, flustered.

Now they walked with a step’s distance between them, glancing everywhere but at each other. Kyle’s laughter finally burst free.

“But seriously, Layla—if you get this embarrassed, how are you planning to have five kids?”

Her gasp was audible. She whipped her head around, glaring.

“You don’t think babies come by stork, do you? Miss Llewellyn, who knows everything except geometry?”

He teased harder. She scowled and quickened her steps. Her heels clattered faster, chased by his easy laughter.

“Wait up, Mrs. Etman!”

His playful shout echoed across the spring campus. Layla broke into a run, her braid bouncing.

Kyle watched her, his heart full. It felt like stepping back into that dream—only this time, he didn’t want to wake up.