Regrets
I knew Laila's house because I'd dropped her home after our first date. She lived as a paying guest with an old couple in a little house near the university. Her room was on floor above, so I'd have a bit of a job gettin' her attention. I stood under her window, wonderin' what to do. The light was on, so she wasn't asleep. But she wasn't answering my calls or texts either. I shoved my phone into my pocket, frustrated. I picked up a white pebble from the beautifully decorated lil' garden that surrounded the house. It was big enough to make a noise, but small enough not to break her window. I threw it and it bounced off her window. No answer. I picked up another one and threw it. It bounced off too. I was jus' pickin' up a third when Laila slid the window up. She was wearing a loose sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder and her hair was in a messy bun. "Wait, I'm coming." she said. In a moment she appeared from the side of the house. She led me up an outdoor staircase on the side of the house that ended at the door of her room. She opened the door and stood back, letting me in. She locked the door behind me as I looked at her room. The walls were painted ivory and there was some very old - world furniture in a dark brown wood. The curtains were white lace. There was a desk and chair, a cupboard, a bed, and a bedside table. Her bed linen was pink. There were a few books neatly arranged on the desk and a poster of a band called Doppler Effect. I'd never heard of them before. They looked Indian. It was a pretty, girly room. "What?" asked Laila. I turned around. "Laila, why did you leave?" I asked, holding both her hands. She looked into my eyes. "Knowing you are in the adult industry did bother me a little, to be honest," she said, getting straight to the point as usual, "I knew you'd have dabbled in drugs. Lot of people do, even if they're not in the adult industry. But hearing him...Mike or whoever...say that you had introduced a 19 - year - old to drugs really hurt. Especially when he said you didn't care how Adam WAS, and let him get as stoned as he liked as long as he raked in the money. He made yiu sound like some cutthroat businessman who doesn't give a damn about anything other than money. That's not the kind of guy I want to date, Dallas. I want a simple guy who can tell right from wrong.
"I guess we jumped into this too quickly. I got my hopes up without getting to know you properly. And now...I guess I regret that. I'm sorry, Dallas. I was ready to accept your choice of career. But I draw the line at this - this absolute disregard for right and wrong. So...I guess it's over."
I stared at her. "Laila-" She shook her head. "Please, Dallas. Please understand." she said, her voice breaking as she looked at me with red eyes. She had finished crying before I reached, I realized.
Since I didn't know what to say, I left. But in the cab on the way home, I remembered what mom had told me years an' years ago when I'd jus' got into strippin' an' was havin' a wild time-"You may have money, son, but you won't have true love."