Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I could still smell that man’s aftershave. To this day, anytime I caught a whiff of the familiar designer cologne, I felt nauseated. It sounds awful, but I was relieved he’d been killed. He’d attacked Mum and in defending herself, he went flying over a cliff into the North Sea.
That year was traumatic. But kids are resilient. We were resilient. And we got Mum out of it.
Still.
I hated that bloody annex.
I was settling onto the guest bed for a power nap when my phone vibrated on the nightstand.
Reaching out, I swiped the screen, and a burning pang lit across my breast.
Are we okay?
Fyfe’s text glared at me.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I put the phone down and grabbed the remote for the blackout blinds. As soon as the room plunged into darkness, I closed my eyes.
The tears leaked free.
Yet somehow, out of sheer exhaustion, I drifted to sleep.
When I woke, I had a missed call from Fyfe.
Sighing, I groggily texted back.
Why wouldn’t we be okay?
He replied immediately.
What I said to Lew came off harsher than I meant.
Hurt pierced me.
But he had meant it.
It’s all good. You and I can take a roast.
Aye, good. Glad you’re back. Hopefully see you tomorrow at Lew’s.
Yup. Anyway, gonna go spend some time with the fam. Talk later.
See you tomorrow.
I threw my phone down on the bed, abandoning it, so I could give my family the full attention they deserved. Everyone was downstairs and I realized I’d slept longer than I meant to. Dad swept me up into a bear-crushing hug that caused a painful lump of emotion to burn in my throat. It didn’t help he cupped my face in his hands and searched it like he knew there was something terribly wrong. I grinned cockily for him, trying to dissuade the concern I saw in his eyes. Shrugging on my best acting skills, I hugged Callie next, joking about her as yet nonexistent pregnant belly, and gave my family the version of me they were used to.
The version that didn’t have a care in the world.
They bought it.
Or at least they pretended to buy it.
Because any time someone tried to push me to be honest with them, I disappeared.
And I knew them so well. I knew they were scared I was going to disappear for good if they pushed too hard.
Hating myself for making the people I loved feel that way, I cloaked myself in the part I played, with the promise to figure out my bloody life. And soon. Before I missed any more of what was truly important.
Six
FYFE
Nine months ago
Eils, I’m in London. I’d love to see you.
Amess of emotions churned inside as I stared down at my unanswered text. The London cabbie prattled on about the weather, the traffic, content to hear his own voice and not requiring any response from me.
I’d come to London two days ago for a meeting with a potential client who I’d only gotten word from this morning was now an actual client. The truth was, I should have returned home yesterday. But the text I’d sent Eilidh two days ago had gone unanswered, and I knew for a fact from Lewis that she was in the city.
Nine months.
That’s how long it had been since she and I had a real conversation.
Ever since she overheard those stupid words come out of my mouth to Lewis.
She acted coolly toward me. No one else noticed the difference. But the daily text conversations and the weekly video calls abruptly ended. I’d attempted to get us back there, but despite her protestations that “we’re fine,” her short, uninterested responses to my texts proved otherwise.
I’d hurt her.
And Eilidh Adair was adept at throwing up mile-high walls.
But nine months of very little after having months of her—the real Eilidh—I was pissed off. I was hurt.
Truthfully, I felt fucking abandoned all over again.
Now this.
I shoved my phone into my pocket as the cab neared Eilidh’s street.
Not answering me at all. Avoiding me.
I hadn’t realized what a light Eilidh’s presence in my life was until she took that light away. The whole reason I hadn’t yet left London was because I wanted her friendship back the way I had it last year. I didn’t want to explode nine months of built-up resentment all over her so I attempted to cool my temper as the cab stopped outside her building.
After paying the cabbie, I jumped out and was hit by the thick London heat. It was early June, but summer had reached London early. Record-breaking temperatures made me long for Ardnoch where, the weather app on my phone informed me, the temperatures were that of chilly spring.
Sweat beaded on my forehead as I pressed Eilidh’s flat number on the buzzer. The last time I’d been here was years ago.
The intercom crackled. “Hello?” I heard her familiar voice for the first time in ages.