ã€ŠLove Notesã€‹


 Chapter 1

    ¡°Why are you so useless?¡±

    The clock hanging on the wall above my head ticks mercilessly as I sit in the kitchen and repeat those words to myself. The noise of it always drives me insane. I glance up, squinting my eyes to find that it''s only seven a.m. It feels like a whole day has passed since I woke up a few hours ago, but I suppose time tends to move a lot slower in the early hours.

    Placing my cup of hot tea down on the table in front of me, my hand shakes under the weight of it. I look my wrist over and sigh. The pain that I feel there now serves as a small reminder of the mistake that I made two days ago.

    Normally I wash all of Jamies shirts together on a Friday night after he finishes work for the week. He likes to keep them a crisp white colour. They often remind me of thick blankets of snow that stretch for miles, with not so much as a footprint shaped drop of tomato sauce from his lunch to ruin them. If I close my eyes, I can visualise myself standing in that snow, cold and sunken up to my knee caps, looking out at the blinding white ocean that¡¯s waiting to suffocate me.

    I wonder if it would be possible to mistakenly dye all of that snow a pale shade of purple? That was my mistake. The reason for the tremor that now makes my tea drip over the side of my cup.

    I forgot to wash his shirts on Friday. We¡¯d gone to see a movie, some action film that Jamie was interested in. I made a mental note to look after them the following day instead, but obviously forgot, so when I spotted them in the basket on Sunday morning, I rushed to get them washed and dried so that I could have them hanging in the wardrobe for him come Monday morning as always. In my haste, I must have accidentally let a purple sock of mine get mixed up with the shirts when I was loading them, because when I pulled them from the washing machine an hour later, I was horrified to find them all ruined. Mixed shades of grey and mauve taunted me as I inspected each shirt one by one. Then I spotted the sock. Shit.

    Immediately I realised that I was going to have to go to that expensive suit shop Jamie likes so that I could replace the shirts. Great, there was another job for my list that day. Maybe Jamie would offer to go himself, considering how I already had so much to do. I still had to go grocery shopping, then I needed to return some jeans he bought that didn''t suit him, and after that I was planning to pay a visit to my sister.

    As I trudged my way into the living room, I prayed that Jamie was in a good mood.

    I approached him as he sat watching some sports show, maybe a game, I wasn''t sure. I never take much interest in the TV, or sport for that matter, but Jamie likes to spend his weekends doing the things he enjoys. He works hard all week, so I don''t really mind it.

    "Look at what I did to your shirts," I said, lifting one from the laundry basket and holding it up so he could see. "A rouge sock must have made it into the machine. Do you think you could make it to the store to pick some new ones up for yourself?"

    Jamie glanced at the grey fabric that I held up for a moment before turning his attention to me.

    "It''s Sunday," he said flatly.

    "Oh, of course. They''ll be closed today." I pouted my bottom lip and thought it over. "Maybe you can wear your blue one tomorrow instead?,¡± I suggested, ¡°Or your purple one? I love that on you." Placing the ruined shirt back into the basket, I offered him an apologetic smile.

    "I promise I¡¯ll go and get you some more in the morning before work, I don''t start til'' ten anyway."

    Without much of a reply from him, I picked up the basket and headed back towards the utility room, figuring that we were in agreement. Within a matter of seconds that assumption was quickly corrected as Jamie somehow got himself up and closed the space between us before I had a second to realise what was coming.

    Jamie had that ability. He could be both quick and quiet when he didn''t want me to have time to defend myself when he advanced on me. He¡¯s tall, standing at a striking 6''1 while also being quite athletic and strong. He can clear his way across a room in twice the time that I can. Often he reminds me of a lion. It''s the way he looks at me, how he watches. He stalks and makes calculations on my next move so that he can beat me to it. I didn''t anticipate this hunt though, and had foolishly made the error of turning my back.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    As he grabbed my wrist, the basket of laundry fell from my hands to the floor, sending the shirts tumbling out. His grip on me was so tight that it hurt. Sometimes his touch felt like it could burn right through me, like hot metal on wax.

    I looked up at Jamie in confusion, but as I did, he reached for my face, clamping his hand around my chin before pushing me back with such force that when I hit the wall behind me I was left breathless. The air whooshed from my lungs as I gasped and tried to wriggle free, but he''s so much stronger than I am, and his grip just got tighter.

    Jamie lowered himself so that his face met mine.

    "Are you stupid?," he spat, cocking his head to the side.

    "Jamie!," I cried between gasps, "you''re hurting me."

    Pulling my head forward a few inches, he then slammed it back against the wall. My ears began to make a sharp ringing sound, and I had to close my eyes just to try and silence the pain.

    "Look at me!,¡± he spat.

    I opened my eyes back up to see that he was now nose to nose with me.

    "I asked you a question," he said, "Are. You. Stupid?" With every word he inched himself closer.

    "N- no," I stuttered, "It was just an accident, a sock got mixed in. I''m sorry!"

    My eyes began to fill with tears. I hated it, not only did it make me feel weak, but Jamie got off on it. Tears only ever seemed to fuel him when he got like that. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at the sight of my glassy eyes.

    "I can try and bleach them before tomorrow," I offered meekly, but his grip on my face only tightened.

    "Those aren''t some shitty twenty dollar shirts Izzy, why do you think I have you do them separately to all of your cheap stuff?"

    I stared back at him, unsure what to say, and afraid of what he would do next. I could feel my whole body trembling.

    Jamie dropped his hand from my face, pushing it to the side as he did. I thought he was finished with me, but instead he took my hand and pulled me away from the wall before twisting my arm behind my back and yanking it upwards, sending a burning sensation up into my shoulder.

    A pained cry escaped from my throat.

    "Jesus Jamie, you''re going to break my arm!"

    Jerking my body back toward him, Jamie pulled me flush against him as his mouth pressed against my ear.

    "Why are you so useless?,¡± he asked. With that he pushed me forward, releasing my arm.

    Wrapping my hand around my wrist, I stood deathly still, completely in shock over his actions. Then I felt another sharp shove between my shoulder blades, moving me towards the shirts that lay on the floor. "Clean that shit up," he said, before striding back across the living room and sitting himself back down on the couch like nothing had happened.

    Grabbing at the shirts, I lifted them into the laundry basket as quickly as I could and hurried back to the utility room. When I got there, I must have cried for what felt like an hour. I can usually anticipate moments like that from Jamie, and I¡¯d managed to avoid pushing his buttons for weeks by being careful. Honestly, I was a little surprised that something so trivial had set him off.

    After awhile, I wiped away my tears and sucked in a breath, telling myself to get it together. I had stuff to do, and feeling sorry for myself wasn''t one of them. Slowly, I made my way back to the living room, picking at my nail beds and keeping my gaze to the floor. Jamie ignored my puffy red eyes as I picked my wallet up off the coffee table.

    "I''ve a few errands to run," I told him, "I was planning to go and see Sarah too."

    Keeping my head bowed, I didn''t dare make eye contact. Why did I give this man so much power?

    "Sure thing babe," he said as he smiled up at me, "Maybe give the visit to Sarah¡¯s a miss today though, you seem a bit run down."

    I lifted my head in surprise, but his eyes didn''t move from the TV. I knew from his tone that it was a warning rather than a concern. He hated when I visited my sister, even more so after he did things like this. Jamie knew Sarah didn''t like him after I told her that his jealously had cost me my job once. He was always paranoid that she would try to convince me to leave him. She never did of course, but I¡¯d never told her about him pushing me around either.

    I knew a whole lot better than to argue at that point, so I agreed not to go, even though it had already been weeks since I had properly spoken to my sister. I always did as Jamie wanted, like it or not.

    "Great," he said, "I''ll see you in a little bit, I love you." With that, he stood and kissed the top of my head, just like always.

    When I got back home later that afternoon, he didn''t mention a thing about what had happened. No explanation, no apology, nothing. And now we''ve been in this weird kind of limbo ever since.

    Shaking the memory from my mind, I try to push the whole thing away for now. Replaying days like that never does me any good. Instead, I pour the rest of my tea down the drain and decide to make use of being awake this early by going for a run. Maybe some fresh air will clear my mind¡­ or at least silence it for a while.

 Chapter 2

    I left a note for Jamie to let him know that I was gone and then I hit the pavement. I love running, there¡¯s been various clubs that I¡¯ve joined over the years, but my preference is to run solo. Nothing can beat the simplicity of sticking in some earphones and silencing the world around you. Running has always helped to clear my mind, so I hit start on my playlist and get going in the hope that I can sift through my thoughts.

    In the two days since it happened, Jaime and I haven''t spoken much, and I don''t give more than short cold answers when we do. He hasn''t made any attempt to apologise, and I don¡¯t expect him to either. He stopped apologising a long time ago really. I guess we''ve both come to accept his temper as a part of him.

    Jamie and I have been together for nearly four years. I met him the night of my twenty second birthday. It wasn''t fireworks and hearts colliding and all of that. It was me drunkenly tripping over his feet on my way to the bathroom. Us flirting and dancing. Cute dates and stolen kisses. Flowers and amazing sex. He won me over. We moved in together after a year, and I guess that''s when I really started to know him.

    I had an idea before I agreed to move in that he was kind of the jealous type, but not in a way that I ever thought I''d have to worry about. I thought it was cute if I''m honest. If another guy ever tried to talk to me while we were out, Jamie would pout his bottom lip out and flash me some sad puppy dog eyes. I''d usually kiss him and remind him that I was his. Forever his. It always did the trick, and then later we''d go back to his place and have sex until the sun came up. It was all part of love in my eyes, so the first time he hit me, it really took me by surprise.

    I was studying to become a music teacher at the time, which was all I ever wanted to do. It still is. My love for music began when my grandfather decided to teach me to play the violin. I was only three years old, although I didn''t realise how impressive that was until I started interacting with other musicians. He taught me how to play other instruments over time too, but I always gravitated back to the violin. I would have played it every day if he had let me. He was a music teacher himself before he retired, so I guess I was attempting to follow in his footsteps with my career choice.

    My grandfather adored everything about me, and I adored everything about him. My Pop Pop, thats what Sarah and I called him. He was absolutely my first love. He started the fire within me for music that only became more intense as time wore on, and I really wanted to make him proud.

    I had secured a training position at a local school while getting my degree, it was part of the course requirement. Thankfully I was working under an amazing teacher, Zachary Keller. Zach was a master of his craft, he was likely the most knowledgable person I knew when it come to classical composers. More important than that, he seemed to have the ability to reach into the souls of his students and pull some truly amazing pieces from them. I could only wish that one day I would be able to do the same with my own students. I wanted to be him.

    I wasn''t into Zach at all, not in that way anyway. He was at least twelve years older than me, maybe more. I saw him as more of a father figure if anything, even though he was too young to possibly be my father. He wasn''t unattractive to look at, he clearly looked after himself, so I could see why the girls in his classes often blushed when he complimented their work. He was a little shorter than Jamie, but still hovered above my 5''3 build. He always wore those thick black rimmed glasses that had become popular again, the type that made him look like Clark Kent.

    Zach and I never really discussed our personal lives, other than the general ''how was your weekend'' chit chat, so when he messaged me about some upcoming music exams that we needed to organise, I didn''t think it would be a big deal to Jamie.

    I don''t know why the message made him react the way he did, maybe I had gushed about how amazing Zach was too much, or I suppose it was possible that I gave the training position too much of my attention. Either way, something switched inside of Jamie when he saw Zach''s name pop up on my phone screen while I was dishing up our dinner.

    He picked my phone up off the table and examined it like he didn''t quite know what he was looking at. "Why is he texting you?," he questioned as his eyes bore through me. I was thrown by his tone, he knew he had nothing to worry about where Zach was concerned, or anybody for that matter.

    "We''re organising some exams," I explained, "it''s hard to get it all done when there''s so much on during the day."

    I attempted to move around him to put our bowls of pasta onto the table, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the fridge while the bowls and their contents lay in pieces on the floor. Jamies hands were gripping my upper arms, his fingers digging in, bound to leave small fingerprint sized welts.

    "You''re lying to me!," he yelled. I''d never seen him look so angry before, it was like he was possessed.

    "Ow! You''re hurting my arms Jamie, let go!"

    "Don''t ever think you can mess around on me Izzy, I''ll ruin your fucking life!"

    Jamie pounded his fist onto the fridge beside me, rocking it with the force.

    "I''m not," I insisted, "I swear, it''s just for work, read the text if you want!"

    Wriggling my shoulders, I tried to break free of his grip. He dropped his hands from my arms and took a step back, keeping his eyes locked to mine. I watched him in disbelief, it was so unlike him. My arms ached from his hold as I rubbed at my shoulder, I couldn¡¯t help but be angry at what he had just done.

    "Jamie,¡± I said, ¡°that was so stupid, I''d never -"

    Suddenly, I was silenced by the back of Jamies hand striking me across the face. I was so in shock that I just stood there holding my cheek as it burned.

    Jamie took a few steps back, griping his hair with both hands. He began pacing the floor, letting the pieces of the broken bowls crunch under his feet.

    "Why would you make me do that Izzy?," he asked as he rambled on about how I¡¯d betrayed him.

    My body slid down the fridge that I had just been pinned against as I listened to his nonsensical justification before forming a crumpled mess on the floor. As hard as I fought it, I began to cry.

    Jamie stopped his pacing long enough to finally notice me sitting there on the ground, terrified. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He rushed to my aid, squatting down in front of me.

    "Oh my god Izzy. I- I''m so sorry, I don''t know why I did that. I was just so mad, I''m sorry. Please..."

    Pushing back on my hands, I attempted to get away from him, but my back only met the cold metal of the refrigerator. There was nowhere to go. Jamie reached for me, offering to help.

    "Don''t!" I spat "Don''t you touch me!"

    Reaching for the counter beside me, I pulled myself to my feet, taking my phone and keys and getting myself the hell out of there. Sometimes I wish I had left that night and never went back, others I''m so in love with him that I could forget every single thing that he''s ever done. There¡¯s rarely an in-between.

    I stayed in a hotel for a few days while Jamie love bombed me like crazy. He sent roses to the school, there were countless texts and voicemails from him apologising, chocolates arrived at the hotel, and a bottle of champagne was even sent to my room. He turned up on the third night with tears in his eyes and apologies on his tongue. I forgave him of course. And the next time, and the next, and every other time after that too. I forgave him so much that he soon stopped apologising at all.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    A couple weeks after he hit me for the first time, my car was in getting some new brakes, so I asked Jamie to pick me up from work. I bumped into Zach on the way out to the parking lot. He walked with me, chatting about the lesson plan we were working on. I couldn''t concentrate because I knew Jamie would see us, so I tried to finish up our conversation as quickly as I could before there was any trouble, but it was already too late.

    I could feel Jamie''s eyes on us. Even though I had nothing to hide, I was worried about what he was going to do. A panicked heat began to spread up the back of my neck as I saw him climb out of his car. His face was so red that I thought steam was about to come out of his ears. It felt like slow motion as he approached us.

    Zach didn''t see it coming. Jamie''s fist cut through the space between them the second he reached us, connecting with Zach''s jaw and sending him flying backwards onto the pebbled ground of the parking lot. I ran in front of Jamie, pushing him back and begging him to stop before he could do anymore damage.

    "You stay away from her!," he yelled, pointing down at Zach as he looked up at us in total bewilderment. "I''ll fucking kill you! You hear me?"

    I kept apologising to Zach while trying to keep Jamie back, but I think that only made things worse. When Jamie decided he¡¯d done enough, he grabbed my elbow and dragged me towards his car, leaving Zach on the ground watching us in confusion.

    Jamie pulled open his passenger door and pushed me inside. In my panic, I stretched my hand out and held the door, trying to keep it open. His eyes met mine, and I could see every single bit of rage he had inside of him.

    "What are you gonna'' do Izzy huh?,¡± he yelled, ¡°Run? Try it! I dare you to, because I swear to god if you step so much as a foot outside of this car right now, I''ll roll it over you and won''t think twice about it. Now let go of that fucking door."

    I dropped my hand back inside the car as quickly as I could, believing he''d make good on that threat if I didn''t. Jamie slammed the door and rounded the front of the car, his eyes latched to mine the whole time.

    I sat across from him, both silent and terrified all the way home. At one point Jamie actually laughed at me as he drove. Laughed. He had accomplished everything that he really wanted to I guess, because the next day when I arrived at the school, I found out that I had lost my training position. Zach agreed that he wouldn''t press charges against Jamie if I went without a fuss. I was devastated, and in my anger about it all, I stupidly told Sarah what had happened after we shared a bottle of wine at her place a few days later. I conveniently omitted Jamies violence and threats against me though.

    Sarah was beyond pissed for me, and to my horror she even confronted Jamie about it. He insisted that he¡¯d made a mistake and that nothing like that would happen again, but he and I knew the real truth of it. He gave me the silent treatment for days until I promised not to tell Sarah anything that goes on between us in future.

    I found it impossible to find another training placement that late in the school year, which meant that I fell behind with both college and rent, although Jamie could more than pay for things. He held a great position at his dad''s tech company, but I wanted to have my own money, so I made the hardest decision of my life and dropped out of college. I figured I''d go back and finish my classroom training when the timing was better.

    I ended out finding a job at a music instrument store that were looking for staff at the time. It¡¯s a world away from what my grandfather wanted for me, but things can''t work out for everyone I guess. Maybe teaching isn¡¯t what¡¯s meant for me. I have Jamie, that¡¯s the most important thing.

    After running for a few miles, I''m now sweating all over and no more able to manage my muddled thoughts than I was when I started. I need to get to work soon though, so I hastily make my way back to the apartment and head straight for the en-suite to shower. In the bedroom, I pass by one of Jamies new shirts that I picked up, just as promised. It''s ironed, hanging and waiting for him, like always.

    The hot water hits my back and instantly soothes my aching muscles. I lean back into the spray, soaking my hair. I wonder if Jamie is at the gym downstairs? Hopefully he takes a shower down there afterward so that I can take my time and avoid making him late.

    Just as the thought runs through my mind, a soft knock comes from the other side of the bathroom door. Today isn¡¯t my lucky day it seems.

    "Iz?," Jamie calls. "Can I come in?"

    Without an answer, he lets himself in. His wavy brown hair instantly begins to lose volume under the hot steam.

    I stand and face him through the glass of the shower door, he''s seen me naked a million times, there''s nothing to hide here. Jamie leans against the marble sink, wearing only a pair of navy sweat pants that hang low on his hips, his hands casually sit in the pockets. My eyes gaze over his chiseled torso, following the little trail of light coloured hair that disappears below his waistband. I feel a familiar burn in the pit of my stomach. Damn him and damn those sweatpants.

    He breaks first, interrupting the silence between us.

    "I know you''re mad at me Iz," he says. "I know I fucked up."

    Straightening himself up off the sink, Jamie looks around the bathroom as if he''s never seen parts of it before. The hand-towels suddenly become interesting to him, it seems like he¡¯s willing to look at anything else but me.

    I shake my head in annoyance, fucked up is one way to put it. Moving myself back under the shower, I turn away from him, refusing to let him think that¡¯s going to cut it.

    As the water falls over me again, the sound of clothing ruffling fills my ears. It¡¯s shortly followed by the squeak of the shower door opening and closing behind me. I can feel Jamie¡¯s presence as he slowly approaches me from behind. He inches closer before running his fingertips down my spine.

    "I want to make you feel better," he whispers, brushing my hair back off my shoulder.

    That''s not an apology.

    "You know that I never want to hurt you."

    That''s not an apology either.

    "Let me show you how much I regret what I did Izzy."

    Still, not an apology.

    Jamie reaches around to my front, cupping one of my breasts as his other hand grazes down my torso. He stops just under my belly button and pulls me closer to him. I can feel him, every bit of him. I know exactly what he wants. If I let it happen, he believes he''s forgiven and I lose this little stand off. If I refuse him, he picks a fight and I lose there too. We''ve danced this dance before, he always wins.

    I allow his fingers to creep down my body before slipping between my legs. Like an artist wetting his brush, Jamie slides a single finger inside of me before slowly drawing it back up my centre until he finds the little bundle of nerves he''s searching for. I drop my head back onto his chest and exhale. For someone who can make me feel so bad, he knows exactly how to make me feel just as good.

    Jamie¡¯s fingers work in a tiny circle as my breath catches in my throat. He leans down, leaving a trail of soft kisses on my neck while the water from the shower sprays us both from overhead.

    "Tell me how good it feels Iz," he whispers into my ear. My eyes roll.

    "It feels amazing."

    "Do you want me to stop?"

    "No... don''t,¡± I say truthfully. A low whimper escapes me as I reach my hand up and grip the back of his neck. "Please don''t stop."

    Jamie¡¯s fingers pick up pace, moving with ease from the wet heat that he¡¯s created.

    "Tell me you love me," he says.

    "I do¡­ I love you."

    Feeling the build up take over my body, I try to let go. My legs begin to feel heavy, and a sudden rush floods my chest. I wish I could say that I dont want him like this, but I do. I want all the good that Jamie has to offer.

    "Fuck, Iz you feel so ready for it,¡± he says gruffly. A slight sting sends a shiver through me as he nips at my neck. My breath becomes laboured as my muscles tense with anticipation, all I want is him. "I¡¯m the only one that can make you feel this good Izzy,¡± he says, ¡°I want to hear you beg for me."

    "Oh god, please," I plead with him.

    Jamie moves his fingers over the spot he''s been circling, knowing that it¡¯s all it¡¯s going to take. That one tiny movement sends me spiralling into a sea of pleasure, forcing me to collapse my weight back onto him as I moan and wither under his touch, letting the ecstasy crash over me in waves.

    I love Jamie so much that it hurts. Sometimes it hurts in ways that it shouldn¡¯t, but I live for thesemoments with him. The ones that make me feel like the most important person in his universe. Being with him like this, knowing that he wants to be better is what drives me forward. It¡¯s what keeps me here. This is the man I want him to be all of the time.

    My chest heaves as he works me through my high. His arms hold me to him for as long as I need to level out and come down off that mountain top.

    At some point, Jamie reaches through the shower spray and twists the knob, turning off the water. He then slowly turns me around to face him. Every inch of my skin sizzles under his stare. His piercing blue eyes rake over my body as he takes in every detail. Leaning in, he presses his lips to mine. His desire for more is plain to see as he opens my mouth so he can trace his tongue against my own.

    Walking me backward with his kiss, he forces my shoulder-blades to meet the chill of the tiled wall behind me. I take a second to catch my breath, looking down to see that he is both ready and eager to continue.

    "I need you," he tells me, pressing his forehead to mine as little droplets of water fall from his hair and roll down his face.

    I meet his eyes as they search my own. He wants to fix this, he wants to make it better.Swallowing down any anger I have left, I nod my head. "Okay."

    That''s all the permission Jamie needs. The veins in his arms bulge as he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my back to the tiles as he steadies himself. He takes the tiniest second to savour this moment before gently pushing himself into me.

    "Oh...christ," he says breathlessly, letting his eyelids flutter closed as he starts to pump himself in and out, finding his rhythm.

    "I love you, I love you so damn much Iz."

    Jamie¡¯s thrusts begin to quicken, I can feel him starting to lose control. We both steadily climb that peak again, panting and moaning along the way. Snaking his hand up my back, he balls his fist into my hair, pulling my head back ever so slightly. As much as I hate when he''s rough with me elsewhere, I love it here. I let out a groan in response.

    "Jesus... oh... god Izzy... I''m about to..."

    I''m already there with him, my hands gripping his shoulders as we both drown in the feeling. Jamies whole body releases and begins to spasm as he cries out, leaving traces of himself inside of me.

    He holds me there in his arms for the longest time, letting the weight of the last few days shed away. Eventually he lets out a sigh, one that sounds as if he''s been holding it in for days. He drops my feet back to the floor before kissing my nose and forehead. "You''re amazing Iz," he says.

    I smile up at him, sweat coating my skin all over again. "I''m going to need another shower after that."

    He thoughtfully kisses me one last time before reaching past me to turn the water back on.

    All is forgiven¡­

 Chapter 3

    The following weeks were less eventful with Jamie. He fell back into being his better self, the one I live for. He showered me with kisses and compliments as we explored the city on our days off in the hot July sun. We dined out, stayed up late watching movies and saw some of his friends. It feels like we''re a normal couple again.

    Jamie and I are approaching our four year anniversary next month in September. On top of that, my birthday isn¡¯t long after, so Jamie has been filling my ears with promises of organising a trip. Honestly, I''d be happy with some take out and a night in, but I know a trip will make him happy, so I don''t try to sway him on it.

    I''ve always felt that all of the good times with Jamie outweigh the bad. He can be kind, loving, generous and so attentive when he wants to be. When things are going well, it''s as if all of the bad experiences I''ve ever had with him slip to the back of my mind. I bury them deep, hiding them inside a locked box where I can keep them from seeping into all of the good memories and staining them like ink on fabric.

    I fill any time I have alone with running and looking after the apartment, while also getting in a small bit of time with Sarah and the kids. She only lives twenty-five minutes from our place, which is nice, I love having her close by. We both stayed around Cleveland after we moved out of our dads house. We grew up here, and we both love it.

    Sarah married her high school sweetheart, Mark. They have two girls together now, Emily and Anna, they''re little cuties. She''s only four years older than me, but she somehow seems to have it all figured out. She stayed close to our dads house because she wanted him to be nearby so the kids could grow up with him. He and Sarah have remained close throughout the years. She got to experience a completely different dad to the one I grew up with. We''re all aware of it, there¡¯s no denying how cold he became towards me after our mom and grandfather passed. We don''t discuss it much though, different opinions I guess. Sarah gets to see my dads soft side, and the loving grandpa he can be. I don¡¯t begrudge her that. I wanted it too. I still do sometimes.

    I work full time at the music store, ''Strings & Things''. Not the most creative name but it''s a great job. The owners, Michelle and Carol, are amazing. We''ve become really close over my time there. I''ve nicknamed them ''The Ladies'' and they totally hate it. They''re not quite what you''d picture a lady to be at all. They''ve been together since nineteen seventy-six. They were only teenagers at the time, and their coming out was a big scandal for their well-to-do families back then, but Michelle tells the story like it''s a romance novel. After they told their friends and family that they were a couple, they left town. The two women travelled the world for a few years, and then came home and bought the music store together. Eventually their families came around. They got married in two thousand and sixteen, about a year after it was made legal in Ohio. I really wish I''d known them at that stage of their lives, I''d have loved to have been a part of it all.

    The best thing about the women is the fact that they''re strong feminists. They run women''s rights rally''s and stuff all around the state. It also means that they generally favour having female employees, not that they¡¯d ever admit that. Of course they insist that they always pick the best candidate for the job, but I have a feeling that isn''t always the case. All I know is that it¡¯s worked out well for me. The less male colleagues I have for Jamie to quiz me about the better, and right now I have zero. Other than the delivery men that come in and out, there''s only Michelle, Carol, Dayna and I and that suits me fine.

    Dayna is part time, she¡¯s studying Psychology but works most Saturdays and some days in-between, which means that between Michelle, Carol and I, I only have to work one in three Saturdays. It drives Jamie insane, but right now there isn''t really an alternative. I was blessed to come out of the school training position with a reference after the stunt he pulled with Zach, and he was lucky no charges were pressed either.

    The store ticks over well, there''s plenty of musicians around here. Ardeen isn''t a particularly small place, there''s a population of roughly twelve thousand, so there''s always something happening. We''re placed just on the outskirts of Cleveland, known as the home of rock and roll. That claim always makes me smile.That''s what made the ladies want to open a music store in Ardeen. They love the creativity that flows here, as do I. We aren''t all that far from Greater Cleveland either, which is where Jamie''s office is, so it''s handy for us.

    I usually work the floor making sales, writing up orders and taking delivery''s. I like to pull my weight though, so when the ladies saw how serious I was about the job, they began to let me open and close the store. Before long I was looking after scheduling too, not that there''s much to it. Carol now wants some help with the book keeping, so we''re going to look at that next. I appreciate how they never make me feel like it''s an ''us and them'' situation. For the most part, they ask my opinion on any changes they want to make, and it''s nice to know what I think matters to them. They don''t have children of their own, and know that my relationship with my dad is strained to say the least, so it feels like there''s an unspoken bond with us. I can share things with them, not everything of course, but I can get their advice when I need it most, and in return they let me in to be a small part of their life too. I love them like they''re the family I never had.

    Although ''Strings & Things'' isn''t my dream job, I do get to talk music all day, which I love. Trumpet players, guitarists, five year old kids wanting a ukulele, I enjoy it all. We get customers in that really know their stuff, I often get lost in the discussions. Last week a girl came in for new drum sticks and before I knew it we were bouncing different ideas and opinions off each other. I was surprised to hear that she had seen Rob Paravonian''s comedic take on Pachelbel''s Canon in D considering how old it is, but we must have discussed it for a solid twenty minutes. This is what I love about music. Classical, modern, whatever; it means something different to everyone.

    When the store gets really quiet, Carol encourages me to practice my violin playing. She says that music is a gift, and not to waste it by letting my talents gather dust. I bet she''d give me an earful if she knew how little I''ve been playing recently. She loves to hear The Lark Ascending, so when I do play at the shop, I always play that for her. I don''t enjoy it all that much, but I like to see her happy. Lately I''ve been experimenting with more modern music. Carol will tut and shake her head when she hears me play it. "I don''t know what''s wrong with a classic," she says. It doesn''t stop her foot tapping along to the rhythm though.

    Jamie isn''t the biggest fan of either of the ladies. He often jokes that Michelle and Carol will start to brainwash me into hating men. It feels like I can''t win. I guess if he doesn''t want me working with other men, then he''s got to compromise somewhere along the way.

    Speaking of Jamie, he¡¯s organised an afternoon off from work today and plans to come and meet me for lunch. He¡¯s put in a serious amount of overtime recently and was owed a few days. There¡¯s a big project that he and his team have been working on for over a year, but it''s in the final stages now thankfully. There¡¯s still a lot of last minute things that they have to complete, but the worst is over for sure.

    Jamie works for his fathers tech company, Reynolds Group. It started out pretty small, just his dad and some guys renting some office space, but as the work came in, the business continued to grow, and now his father is worth more than I can fathom.

    The second he finished college, Jamie joined the company too, his father wouldn''t have allowed him to do anything else. He''s involved with software design, leading the team and working endlessly while at it. He thinks that the roll out of this project they''ve been working on will take them multinational. The details unfortunately get lost on me. I listen to him, smile and agree like I understand, but I''m not the most tech minded person you''ll ever meet, much to Jamies disappointment. I do know that he works hard though, and that he deserves some time off to rest and take a breather right now.

    Towards the afternoon a small delivery of accessories arrives into the store. Stands, cables, pedals; all the fun stuff. I take it in and sign it off for the driver, it''s our usual delivery guy Steve. Steve is really sweet, he loves to chat. He talks about his wife and three kids non-stop. I''ve seen more pictures of them than I have of Sarah''s two, but they''re honestly adorable. Today he''s showing me photos of the family trip they took to the beach last weekend. As he flicks through the images, he makes a point of mentioning that it''s high time I start to make some babies of my own. I remind him of the fact that I''m only twenty-five, but he says the younger I start the better. I swat at his shoulder and send him on his way. Steve laughs and waves his hand in the air as he heads out the door, back to his truck. As the little bell above the entrance chimes, I spot Jamie standing over by the cymbals, staring at me, one side of his lips curled up into a tight smile. I offer one of my own in response when I get a look at him, he really is so handsome.

    "Hey you,¡± I say, keeping my smile in place. ¡°I didn''t see you come in.¡±

    "That¡¯s because were too busy flirting with Delivery Dan."

    I feel my breath catch in my throat, he''s not mad is he? My worry is instantly put at ease as he strides toward me, his smile now spread wide.

    "It''s Steve actually," I quip. "And he was just telling me that you and I should hurry up and have some babies already." Standing up on my tiptoes, I give him a peck on the cheek as he meets me.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    "Is that right? Well, I''m all for practicing making babies if that helps Iz?" Jamie wiggles his eyebrows at me as he wraps his arms around my waist, making be break into a giggle.

    "Don''t be gross here," I say, "the ladies will hear you."

    Turning away from him, I call out to Michelle as I grab my purse, telling her that I''m heading to lunch. She pops her head out from the back and waves at Jamie.

    "No problem," she calls, "off you two lovebirds go, enjoy!" She gives a genuine smile to us both, but all Jamie offers is a nod of his head as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads the way out.

    ??

    My lunch was devoured in about ten seconds flat. I was running late this morning and had to skip breakfast, so I was famished. Setting my cutlery down, I lean back and pat my stomach. I''m so full I could burst. Jamie laughs and wipes at the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

    "Do you really have to go back to work after this?," he asks. "I''d love you to take the afternoon off with me." His eyes sparkle with mischief as he try''s to offer up a cute pout.

    "Can''t," I say with a shrug before taking a sip of my iced tea. "We have another delivery due later and no Dayna today. I don''t like to leave the ladies to lift the amps by themselves, they''re too heavy."

    He sighs, but appears as though he''s understanding. "It''s really sweet that you look out for them like that Iz, maybe that delivery guy had it right about you."

    I stare back at him quizzically, unsure of what he''s getting at. "Steve? What do you mean?"

    "Well he can obviously see how much you care for people, and how it would make you an amazing mom."

    I almost choke on my tea as I hear the words leave his mouth.

    "Steve thinks everyone should have ten kids Jamie," I say. "He told me once that he doesn''t understand why it''s not like it used to be, when the men went to work and women raised the children at home, so I wouldn''t hitch my cart to too many of his bright ideas." I let out a small snort, rolling my eyes at the idea.

    "You dont agree with him?" Jamie stares at me across the table, curiosity in his eyes.

    "Agree with what? That women should give up every dream they have and chain themselves to the stove? Strangely, I cant say I do."

    "I suppose that''s fair," he says. "But what about kids? That''s not a bad idea right?"

    "For who?"

    "Us¡­ obviously."

    "I''m starting to find it hard to tell if you''re kidding," I say, furrowing my brows.

    The question lingers between us.

    "Why would I be kidding Izzy?"

    "Oh I dont know? Maybe the fact that I haven''t even started my career yet and you''re asking me about kids as we sit at lunch?"

    "Well when is a good time to ask about it?," he asks. "And do you even really need a career? I earn enough money for the both of us now, if things keep going this way I''ll earn enough for us to support as many kids as we want." Jamie raises his fork, stuffing the last of his oversized salad leaves into his mouth. I''m almost speechless.

    "Jamie, you know I want a career. I want to teach."

    "Don''t you think you''d be doing it by now if it was what you really wanted?"

    I blink at him in shock. He cant honestly be that brazen?

    I moved out of home as soon as I could, so it took me some time to save up the money I needed for college. I know I was a little late getting there, but it was always what I wanted. It''s still what I want, and had Jamie not ruined it for me, it''s exactly what I''d be doing right now.

    Upon noticing my surprise, Jamie doubles down.

    "I''m just saying Iz, what''s the point in you working in that dead end place or teaching when I can take care of you and whatever brood we have?" He shrugs his shoulders as if this is a no-brainer before gulping down the last of his water.

    "Dead end place?," I ask, clearly offended.

    "You know what I mean, you don''t plan to be there forever do you? And it''s going to be hard for you to start studying again, so why do it? Why not just begin the life we want?"

    "What is the life we want Jamie?"

    Jamie reaches his hand across the table, taking mine. "I think we want what everyone wants Iz. The white picket fence and the house in the suburbs. A happy family that I can spoil. I''m not saying I want kids right this second, I obviously want to wait until after we''re married."

    Married? What the hell is going on with him today?

    I''m caught so off guard that I just stare at him blankly for awhile, he''s never ever once mentioned that this is what he wanted. I mean sure, maybe its a discussion we should have had, but none of this stuff ever came up, so I figured we were on the same page. I thought he knew me. I thought he knew what I now have to break to him.

    "Jamie," I say quietly, thinking about my next sentence carefully. "I... um¡­" I meet his eyes as they glare at me with suspicion. This isn''t going to go down well, but he needs to know the reality of our future, so I clear my throat and start again.

    "I don''t think that I do want to get married. Not ever."

    "Ever?," he asks.

    "Ever," I repeat.

    "Wow." Jamie leans back in his chair, looking like I''ve just knocked the wind out of his sail. I begin to fiddle with my napkin, this conversation is probably one we should have had in private.

    "You think you''d have told me something like that sooner Izzy," he says, putting both his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. His whole mood has changed. He''s suddenly colder. Angrier.

    "It never came up,¡± I rush to explain. ¡°I thought you knew. We''ve never talked about kids or marriage or any of that stuff before."

    "Still," he argues, "most couples are working towards that. I thought it was a given, you¡¯ve never said anything to the contrary, so what was I to think? I feel a bit caught off guard here if I''m honest Izzy."

    "It¡¯s not like I was hiding it, why would I do that? I just thought we were on the same page."

    "So what would you have done if I had proposed to you at some point over the last four years Iz? Said no?"

    "No, I''m sure we would have discussed it before that, like we are now, so I wouldn''t have needed to."

    "So you would?," he asks angrily, "You''d say no if I asked you?"

    I sit quietly for a minute. Why does he need me to say it? Why is this so important right now?

    "And what about kids?," he continues.

    "What about them?,¡± I ask.

    "Well, am I to assume you don''t want any children now too?"

    I hate this, I hate this whole discussion.

    "No," I say. "I think I might like kids someday."

    Although I feel that answer might appease him, in reality I don''t know what I want. If someone were to ask me plainly if I want children, then I''m sure my answer would be yes. But if they asked if I want children with Jamie, then I wouldn''t be so sure of it. I cant say I haven''t thought about it, but its a whole lot more complicated than a simple yes or no.

    "So you''re telling me that you''d be happy to have some bastard kids running around?," Jamie says, throwing his hands in the air. His voice reaches a pitch that causes the barista to eyeball us over the top of the coffee machine.

    "Jamie," I say in a hushed tone, trying to remind him of where we are. "Please don''t get mad about this. I mean why is it even important? How did we go from having a nice lunch to suddenly discussing having kids?"

    He huffs out a breath and folds his arms across his chest like a spoilt child. I notice his jaw flex, sending a flood of worry through me. I''m afraid that I''m not going to be able to steer this conversation to safer ground.

    "Maybe it''s something we should have been discussing sooner Izzy," Jamie says, "or did you prefer talking about it with your little friend Steve?" His eyes could burn a hole right through me as he waits for my reply, and I quickly realise that I''ve already lost any hope of making this go away.

    "Please don''t bring this back to the delivery guy," I say, intensionally avoiding calling Steve by his name. "Honestly, it was a harmless joke. This is all so silly, lets drop it and we can talk about it later, alone?" My eyes drift to the barista as she tries desperately to appear as though she''s not listening. Jamie isn''t prepared to let me off that easy though.

    "When who''s alone?," he snaps, "You and I, or you and Steve?"

    I stare down at my lap. How am I going to make this right? What is my safest response? Is there one?

    "I''m sorry," I offer. "You''re right, I shouldn''t be discussing things like that with other people, I won''t do it again." I hold my breath and wait, praying that that''s what he wants to hear.

    Thankfully, I''m in luck.

    Jamie sighs and reaches across the table again to take my hand. "I just want us to have everything we want Iz," he says.

    I look up, meeting his blue eyes. They''re as vast as the ocean, and just as terrifying too. The sad stare he''s giving me right now almost makes me believe that he truly wants what¡¯s best for both of us, but I know what he really means. He wants us to have everything that he wants, not that I''m dumb enough to argue.

    "I know," I reply, "I''m sorry."

    For now I''ll have to toe the line. Not wanting marriage is something I thought we both agreed on, but if not, that''s enough of a bombshell for today. I''m afraid of what he might do if I admit the full truth.

    "Listen," I say, reaching for my napkin and wiping my mouth, "I really need to get back to work, can we talk about this later?"

    "Sure,¡± he says, as he takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze. ¡°I¡¯m going to grab a coffee to take with me, you go ahead."

    I smile back at him before grabbing my purse and making my way back up the street to my little safe haven. I''m suddenly appreciating the store a whole lot more than I did an hour ago.

    What is Jamie thinking? Marriage? Children? How have we been on two completely different wave lengths this whole time and not known? He can''t possibly think he''s ready for any of that can he?

    My mind begins to spiral, imagining a pudgy little toddler with light brown curly hair just like his fathers, cuddling into me in fear as Jamie screams at me for forgetting something trivial from the grocery store. How would our children turn out? Afraid to stand up for themselves like me? Or would they get their daddy''s temper? What if the worst happened and Jamie decided to turn his anger on them? That thought alone is enough to root me to spot in fear.

    No.

    I won''t let it happen. There isn''t going to be any children in our future, I''ll make sure of that. I''ve been on the pill since I was seventeen, and I intend to keep it that way. Even if I have to hide it from him.

 Chapter 4

    My afternoon was slow moving, and I couldn''t get what Jamie had said out of my head.Concentrating on anything was impossible and I ended out mixing up some orders, making my day that bit harder. It took me thirty minutes just to figure out what I''d done wrong, and then another twenty to fix it, which completely delayed me unpacking the order that had arrived. By the time five o''clock rolled around I was fit to be committed.

    "Izzy?," Michelle calls from out front. "Will you be okay to lock up if Carol and I leave now? We wanted to stop off at that art exposition I told you about?"

    "Sure absolutely," I say as I step out from the stockroom. I was just finishing up stacking the amps, so I''d happily move on to some paper work out front now until I could close up at seven. Hopefully it will occupy my mind.

    "Are you sure? You''ve been a bit out of sorts since your lunch with Jamie. Is everything alright?" Michelle wears a look of concern, she always knows when I''m not quite myself, even if I try to hide it.

    As Carol approaches with both of their coats and bags in hand, I decide not to delay them with my issues.

    "Oh no, I''m just tired," I say, "you guys go ahead, have fun." I give them a genuine smile, eager to get them out the door, but the two women share a knowing look of communication between them. They think I''m lying.

    "Really," I insist, "I''m fine, don''t do that psychic thing, get going."

    "Psychic thing?," Michelle asks curiously.

    "Yeah. Y''know'', when you talk about things just by looking in each others eyes. It''s seriously creepy by the way, you should really stop doing that." I cross my arms over my chest, trying to appear confident, but I think I achieve more of a ''child pretending to be an adult'' sort of vibe.

    The two women pause for a brief moment before bursting into a fit of laugher.

    "Oh wow! Did you mean telepathy Izzy?," Carol manages to ask through her giggles.

    I cover my face with my hands, turning a beetroot colour from the neck up. "Ugh, get out of here you two," I say, "and don''t let me hear you repeat that!"

    "No problem Psychic Sally!," Michelle teases as she pulls her bag over her shoulder. "The keys are in the usual spot, feel free to lock up a little early if it''s dead here, I''ll see you in the morning." She leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek, as always.

    "Don''t forget to set the alarm," Carol warns, just like every other time I close the store too, but I wave her off.

    "Go go go, I''ve done this a hundred times!" Shooing them out the door, I still feel embarrassed as they titter away with each other.

    It irks me sometimes that Carol constantly feels the need to remind me to turn on the alarm, or to lock the doors out front and back, or to make sure that I turn out all the lights. It''s like she doesn''t fully trust me. I would never ever let anything happen to this place. I know how much it means to them, and I hate to think that either of them believe that they can''t rely on me. I need them to know they can trust me with the store. That they can trust me with anything actually.

    Jamie often tells me that I don''t come across as confident in my abilities. He says it''s in the way that I carry myself, that I don''t leave a lasting impression. I don''t know who I''m supposed to be impressing though. I never really found my confidence to be a problem before he brought it up.

    I know he just wants me to be at my best, and that he thinks he''s helping, but I''m happy to simply blend in most of the time.

    I suppose I''m pretty plain overall when I consider it. I''ve never had any real desire

    to stand out. All of my facial features are what I''d describe as ''normal''. My blonde hair sits just below my shoulder blades, and it''s been that way since I was fifteen. In the winter months I have it toned so it has more of an icy look to it and I can blend in with the season.

    I dress to my own taste, but I think it would generally be considered safe. Today I''ve went for some skinny mid blue denim jeans, paired with a red co-ord knit top and cardigan. Tomorrow I might go for vans and a band t-shirt. Dressing for my mood is what makes me feel most comfortable, so I guess I don''t have a signature style as such.

    Jamie says that I march to the beat of my own drum when it comes to what I wear. I know he doesn''t mean it as a compliment, but I take it as one regardless. He''d rather I over dressed and bought clothes from the same expensive stores his mom and sisters buy theirs. I could, but it''s not very me, so it''s like my own little act of rebellion. I almost enjoy seeing his eyes wash over me in disappointment when I come out of the bedroom some mornings. I guess he can''t really have too much of a problem with my style though, because it didn''t stop him trying to grab a handful of my ass this morning when I pulled on these jeans. I''m sure it helps too that I never let him down when we have to attend an event for his work or parents. I''ll wear whatever he wants in those situations. He needs to keep a certain appearance up, so I have no problem playing ball.

    My make up is something that I enjoy giving my time to though. My friend Mia taught me how to apply it all in high school and I''ve been obsessed since. I don''t shy away from it. I''m not a girl who can slick on a coat of mascara and head out the door. I like to use the stuff. Foundation, highlighter, bronzer, blush, I have a dozen different types of each. But I follow the rule of only using it to enhance my natural features, I don''t want to look like I''ve been gang banged by crayola or anything.

    I''ve tweaked and updated what I use over the years of course, I don''t think I could pull off the gothic eyeliner look anymore somehow. I imagine Mia might be saddened to know as much, but I lost touch with her not long after I moved in with Jamie, so I suppose she''ll never know.

    Some days, putting my face on feels a little like I''m painting on a coat of armour, one that will see me through the day. It came in handy once when Jamie left a small bruise on my cheek. I was able to cover it up without changing my routine, so no questions came of it. It''s the only time he left something visible. He was so angry that day, and over something so trivial too...

    I shake my head to refocus my thoughts and switch my attention to a guy over by the guitar strings. He''s holding two different brands while muttering to himself.

    "Hey there, can I help you with anything?," I ask, offering up my best customer service smile.

    He glances at me before looking back to the products in his hands. "You mean you don''t already know what I''m looking for?"

    "I''m sorry?" Does he think I''m a mind reader or something?

    The corners of his mouth shift upward, forming a little smirk. I slowly realise that he obviously overheard the conversation between the two ladies and I.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    "Oh..." My shoulders deflate a bit, and the feeling of embarrassment creeps back up my neck all over again. "I swear I know more about those guitar strings than I do about telepathy if that helps."

    There''s no way to avoid my blushes, it''s maddening that I''m even this embarrassed about it.

    The guy lets out a small chuckle, and its only then that I really notice him. His smile instantly puts me at ease. It stretches upwards on his face, leaving little wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes. His eyes. Good God. They''re a stunning washed out emerald colour. Paired against his sallow skin tone and head of thick messy black hair, it fells like I''m in the depths of autumn. I wonder if he knows how striking he is?

    I notice his arms next. They''re completely awash with colour. A landscape of tattoos creep up both arms, disappearing under the sleeves of his shirt. The coloured detail of his body art jumps out against the plain black t-shirt and jeans combo he''s wearing. I wonder how old he is? No more than twenty eight or twenty nine I''d guess.

    I''m suddenly all too aware that he''s now staring at me expectantly. Wait, did he say something?

    "Uh¡­ sorry, what was that?," I ask.

    "I was just checking if you had some particular strings," he says as he picks up another pack off the shelf and looks at it quizzically. "I''m not having much luck though."

    "Oh, well maybe I can order them for you if we don''t have the type you want there? It usually takes about two days for them to come in, although with tomorrow being Friday, it will probably be Monday before they''re here, is that okay?"

    "I''m kind of under a bit of time pressure,¡± he explains, ¡°I need them for tomorrow night. It''s my own fault, I left it too long to replace them. I could use something else though I guess."

    He looks back over the selection we have before turning back to me.

    "Have you worked here the whole time?," he asks, throwing me by his change of topic.

    "The whole time?"

    "I don''t recognise you,¡± he says, ¡°I come in here sometimes and I figured I''d know you if you''d been here long." He blushes ever so slightly as he says that, but I see it.

    "Um, I''ve been here awhile... about two years actually."

    I meet his eyes once again, becoming transfixed. I know undoubtably that I haven''t seen him before, I would have remembered.

    There¡¯s quiet between us for a beat before I realise something.

    "Wait, are you looking for the Ernie Ball strings?"

    His head snaps up with surprise. "Those are the ones! How did you know?"

    "Did you call here yesterday? Looking for the Slinky type?"

    "Yes, that''s exactly what I''m looking for! Was that you? I thought it was someone else. Anyway I figured I''d drop in and see if they had arrived today on my way by."

    "No, it was Michelle you spoke to, but she mentioned that we only had the bass strings left after you called. I actually ordered some more already, they''ll be here in the morning. What kind do you need? I''ll double check the purchase order."

    "You''d be saving me having to play with some much shittier strings if you did," he says, looking back over the few we have. I didn''t realise they were so subpar. "It''s the super slinky ones I''m after."

    "Single?" I ask.

    He hesitates ever so slightly. "That''s a very personal question don''t you think?," he says as he folds his arms and quirks an eyebrow at me, instantly making me feel flustered as I rush to explain.

    "I meant pack size!"

    Surely he knew that? Although the way his shoulders shake with silent laughter tells me he did.

    "A three pack is ideal, but beggars can''t be choosers, I¡¯ll work with whatever you''ve ordered."

    "I''m sure I ordered them, let me check."

    We move toward the computer up front. I can feel this guys eyes on my back the whole time as he follows me, and it causes me to break out in a sweat. What is wrong with me? It''s a guy, they come in here every day!

    My blushes don¡¯t seem to lighten as he casually leans on the counter, eyeballing me as I tap away on the keyboard.

    "I wasn''t expecting someone who doesn''t know the difference between psychic abilities and telepathy to know exactly what I was looking for," he says.

    I roll my eyes at his attempt at humour. "You want those strings or not funny guy?," I ask, shooting him a look before glancing back to the screen.

    I can see the order right there, and it''s good news for him.

    "You''re in luck," I say. "They''ll be here in the morning, you want me to put some aside for you and I can give you a call when they get here?"

    "Amazing! That would be great, you''ve saved me big time. Thank you...uh¡­" He looks to where my name tag should be, but we dont use them here, never have. "Sorry, I didn''t get your name?"

    "It''s Izzy. Isobel. No, just Izzy."

    Seriously? Have I lost the ability to communicate or something?

    Humoured by my inability to speak coherently, he cocks his head to the side and stares at me like I have ten heads. "Well, ''Just Izzy'', thank you for your help. I''m Will by the way."

    "Yeah, uh sure, It''s no problem."

    Will pauses for a moment, debating something before speaking again.

    "Are you here all day tomorrow?" he asks.

    "Sure am."

    "Can I give you my number then?"

    "What?"

    "F-for the strings," he stammers as his face flushes a deep purple. "I meant, can I give you my number so you can let me know when the strings are here?"

    "Oh. Oh of course! Duh. Yeah um, here," I say as I grab a note pad and pen and clumsily pass it to him. He scribbles his number down before giving it back.

    "Thank you again," he says, "you''re a life saver."

    Finishing up, he makes his way toward the door, glancing back at me just once to give a small wave on his way out.

    "See you tomorrow" I call after him.

    The door chimes closed and I find myself burning my head in my hands on the counter. What the hell was that? I felt like a teenager talking to her first crush or something. Pathetic.

    Taking in a deep breath, I let out a sigh. Today has been weird. My head is still a mess after that conversation with Jamie, and I dont know what the heck just came over me with that guy.

    I quickly decide to take Michelle up on her offer to close up early, nobody ever comes in after six anyway.

    Thirty minutes later, after cashing out and double checking all of the lights and locks, I''m finally turning the key for the shutters, glad to be going home. I try to call Jamie to let him know I''ll be back early, but all I get is his voicemail. I don''t bother leaving a message, I''ll just see him when I get home.

    As I wait for the metal shutters to come down over the door, a voice comes from behind me.

    "Hey Mystic Meg!"

    It''s like velvet. Soothing in a way you don''t expect from a stranger. I turn to find that guy Will with his hands stuffed into his pockets and a bashful smile on his face.

    "Oh hey," I say, "sorry I''m just locking up, did you need something else?"

    "No, not at all, I was looking for you actually." His eyes glance at the sign that displays our opening hours before venturing back to me. I''m closing a good hour early here.

    "Don''t tell on me!," I joke with him.

    "Absolutely not, I''ll keep your secret. Although your moms seem pretty cool."

    I don''t correct his error, I actually find his assumption of my relationship to the ladies kind of funny, but I guess in a way I like the idea of them being my moms. It would be nice to have one around sometimes, never mind two.

    As he runs his hand through his hair nervously, I can''t help but take him in all over again. I didn''t think there was any product in his hair earlier, and it looks like I was right, because it bounces right back into place with his messy fringe falling to rest on one side of his forehead.

    "Um," he says before swallowing, "so I probably could have waited til'' tomorrow, but maybe I caught you at a good time now. Are you uh¡­ would you like to get a coffee maybe, with me?"

    He thumbs behind him to the cafe at the end of the street, the one I was in earlier with Jamie.

    I find myself locked into a stunned silence, taken aback by the fact that a total stranger has asked me out, or at least I think he''s just asked me out? I then start to wonder if that barista has finished for the day? Although why does that even matter? I can''t go anywhere with this guy.

    "Coffee?," I ask, fumbling with the store keys anxiously.

    Will puts his hands up, palms facing outward as if to appear non-threatening. "Just coffee," he says, "nothing weird I swear." His eyes give off a hint of fun that I desperately want to know more about, but this is insane right?

    "Really?," I ask.

    "Yes, just coffee," he promises, moving to place a hand over his heart.

    I mull it over. I dont know even know why, there''s no way I can go anywhere with him. It''s one hundred percent not just coffee. I know that, so I absolutely cannot go.

    Looking up, I meet his green eyes and find myself entirely hypnotised all over again.

    "Okay," I agree, "just coffee."

    THAT IS NOT HOW YOU SAY NO ISOBEL! Who am I right now?

    "But not there," I say, nodding my head towards the cafe. "There''s a place just around the corner, the coffee is much nicer."

    "Perfect," he says as he gestures for me to lead the way.

    What on earth do I think I''m doing?

    This is a really, really stupid idea.

 Chapter 5

    Will and I take small steps as we walk down the street towards the coffee shop. The space between us is so wide that you could easily fit another two people between us and still have room. The silence is deafening.

    A breeze passes us, and as it does I feel it circle my feet before running itself up my body and blowing through my hair, as if to pull me backward, warning me of what a huge mistake this bold move is.

    What am I doing? This isn''t me. I don''t agree to coffee with random guys. I have a boyfriend, and Jamie would absolutely lose his mind if he... oh god, Jamie! He never answered my call, what if he''s still nearby after our lunch earlier? I know exactly what he''d think if he caught me with some stranger. Worse than that, I know exactly what he''d do.

    "So," Will says, breaking the silence and gesturing to the gap between us. "Are you always so uncomfortable with people?" I cant tell if he''s trying to be funny or if he''s just really forward.

    "I..."

    The palms of my hands begin to break out in a sweat. I wipe them on my jeans and try to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. What the hell was I thinking. How would I explain this? It''s crazy. I need to leave.

    "Hey, are you okay?," Will asks as he reaches out and touches my arm. "You look like you''re gonna'' throw up. It really is just coffee, I promise."

    He offers a smile, but I don''t look up to meet his eyes. Instead I look to where his hand now touches my arm. Something so innocent, but it feels so incredibly loaded.

    "No. I- I made a mistake," I stammer. "I shouldn''t have said yes to this, I''m sorry. I think I better go."

    As I attempt to turn myself around, I get a fuzzy kind of feeling in my head that makes me dizzy. Maybe I am going to throw up.

    "Oh, hey whoa," Will says as he stretches his hand out to catch me, but he¡¯s careful not to actually physically touch me again. "Did I say something? What''s wrong?"

    He seems genuinely concerned, I''m sure it would be sweet if I wasn''t so freaked out right now.

    "No not at all," I tell him, "you didn''t do anything. It''s me, I''m an idiot. I need to go home, I''m really sorry."

    I feel a cold sweat suddenly come over me, making my top stick to my back. What is happening?

    "What is it then?," he asks. "You can tell me. What? Am I unattractive in the daylight or something? Or do you have some big burly boyfriend that''s going to pop up and kick my ass?"

    He¡¯s trying to coax a laugh from me with his humour, but the expression on my face instantly gives me away.

    "Oh," he says, "you do have a boyfriend."

    "I do."

    He stares at me, his disappointment evident, forcing me to drop my gaze to my feet.

    "And yet you agreed to coffee with me."

    "I did."

    "And now you feel guilty."

    "I do."

    "You should."

    I look up to meet his stare, a little surprised by his honesty. He''s not looking at me in a way that tells me he intended to be cruel though. I''m not sure what it is. Sad maybe?

    This day has gone from bad to worse. Wills hands sit deep into his pockets as he waits for an explanation that I dont know how to give. I''m overwhelmed with guilt as I try to make my excuses.

    "This was... you''re a really nice guy, and it was great to meet you, I''m just... it''s just that..."

    I have to force myself to take in a deep breath in order to try and calm myself down before I attempt to continue. "Look," I explain, "I did a stupid thing, it''s been a weird day, and I''m really sorry if I made you mad."

    Will furrows his brows in confusion. "Made me mad?"

    "Yeah, this really isn''t like me at all, and I''m more than aware of how clich¨¦ that sounds, I mean for all you know I''m a serial cheater and everyone gets this sob story but-"

    A wave of panic suddenly hits me like a freight train, but it doesn''t seem to stop the incoherentbabble that leaves my mouth.

    "I''m really not that bad of a person I swear," I say. "And It''s honestly nothing you did, I just..."

    All of a sudden I¡¯m finding it hard to breathe. I rub at my throat a little, wondering if there''s something blocking my airway. No, that''s silly, I''d know. But then why am I starting to feel so light headed.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "Are you alright?" Will asks, his voice full of concern.

    "Like I said," I try to continue, "I- I''ve had a bad day and I don''t know what possessed me t-to..."

    Wringing my hands, I take a look around me and notice the street signs overhead starting to blur. I try to take the air in through my nose instead to see if it makes a difference, but it''s like there''s a weight on my chest that gets heavier the more I talk, so I simply stop trying. Hopefully Will just leaves me here so I can figure this out.

    Backing up a bit, I press my hands onto the glass of the store front behind me, I need to steady myself, I need to breathe.

    Little black spots form in front of my eyes as tiny beads of sweat roll down my face. A sudden bout of nausea settles on me, and a dull weak feeling lands in my hands. Maybe my lunch didn''t agree with me earlier and wants to make a come back. Dear god, please don''t let me vomit in front of Will.

    Pinching the bridge of my nose, I aim to quiet my mind and refocus.

    I continue to try and control my breathing, changing to small gasps of air instead. Tilting my head back, I rest it against the glass behind me and close my eyes. Wills muffled voice is still there, but I''ve no idea what he''s saying because I cant concentrate. It feels like I''m lost in a weighted ocean thats gripping my whole chest, squeezing all of the oxygen from my lungs as I desperately try to keep my head above the water. Christ, what is this?

    There''s a heavy tug on my arm, followed by the faint click of a door. The next thing that I''m aware of is counting.

    "C''mon," Will demands. "Do it with me. Breathe in, 1,2,3,4, hold it, 1,2,3,4, and let it out, 1,2,3,4, now rest, 1,2,3,4."

    My lungs burn, and I can feel my lips begin to quiver as his hands cup mine.

    "Okay," he says, "again."

    I shadow what he''s doing as he guides me through the confusion.

    "In, 1,2,3,4, hold it there, 2,3,4, and out 2,3,4, and rest, 2,3,4."

    I continue the count in my head, breathing in and holding as Will instructs. It''s weird, but for whatever reason I feel like it''s helping. I¡¯ve no idea what this is, or why it¡¯s happening to me, but I¡¯m grateful that Will is here right now.

    After an endless amount of counting and breathing with him, I finally start to draw in air a little easier, as if I''m bursting through some imaginary chains that are locked aroundmy lungs.

    Opening my eyes up to look around, I keep the count going as I check out my surroundings. Will must have brought me into the building I was clinging to outside. It''s a tanning salon that¡¯s a few doors down from Strings & Things. We didn''t make it far at all.

    There''s a girl sitting behind the counter near the front, she''s pretending that she wasn''t just watching me. I kind of recognise her from seeing her come and go. She looks up to meet my stare and offers a sympathetic smile, I nod my head in acknowledgement, feeling completely mortified.

    "Keep counting," Will says, pulling my focus back to him. "Let the air in, be aware of it."

    I stare at him now. He must have sat me down when he brought me in. The rubber soles of his converse pinch at the stress points as he squats in-front of me. We''re in the tiny waiting area of the salon. The stiff blue plastic chair that I sit on is hurting the back of my legs the longer I sit, but at least no one else is here.

    My eyes shift to our hands, Will is tapping the back of my mine softly with his finger, silently drumming the count so I don''t lose track. The girl behind the counter is typing away on her keyboard, and the clacking of her acrylic nails hitting the buttons is becoming a distraction, but I try to keep myself in the moment.

    This is terrifying. Why did it feel like I was dying or something? The sting of tears hits me as little pools form in my eyes, but I''ll be damned if I''m going to cry in-front of this guy. I tip my head back and look up at the stained foam roof tiles, relying on gravity to help me out by stopping any tears from cascading over and flowing down my face like the tell tale sign of weakness they are.

    Will grants me the kindness of acting like he doesn''t see anything and stands up, telling me he''ll be back in a minute as he approaches the front desk. He looks back to check on me as my gaze follows him.

    Reading the name tag that''s pinned to her top, Will flashes the girl behind the counter a smile. Lindsey. He asks her for a cup of water, pointing to the cooler behind her. She glances over at me yet again, I must look pitiful sitting here as she frowns disapprovingly. Her eyes draw back to Will. She can''t say no to him either it seems, and she passes a little white plastic cup of water over the counter to him after she fills it. Her dimples sink deep into her cheeks as she bats her eyelashes at him before shooting me another look the second he turns his back to her.

    I feel silly as Will hands over the drink. I avoid his eyes and use the back of my hand to wipe at my own, taking away the blur in my vision. Gulping the water down hungrily, I dont worry at all about how in-feminine it might seem. My mouth feels dryer than the vanilla sponge cake that Carol made for my birthday last year, and this water is the only thing that will quench it.

    Handing the empty cup back, I inhale one more big steady breath through my nose and begin to feel calmer. Will hunkers down in front of me again, placing both his hands on the chair at either side of my knees.

    "Are you feeling okay?," he asks.

    I''m not sure what he''s looking for but he places the palm of his hand to my forehead to check me over.

    "I''m fine, I''m really sorry about this," I say, still not making eye contact. "I''m not sure what that was, I must be coming down with something."

    He leans back slightly, a bizarre look on his face."Are you kidding? You don''t know what that was?"

    "N-no?"

    "Isobel, that was a panic attack."

    "It''s just Izzy."

    "Really? That''s your worry right now? Izzy."

    "I don''t get panic attacks," I say, "I''ve never had one, I really don''t know what it was."

    "Trust me, That''s exactly what it was. I''ve had the pleasure of a couple myself."

    "Are you sure? Maybe I''m just sick, or hungry. I only had lunch today, maybe that''s all it is."

    "I''m positive," Will insists. "It was a bad one too. You should stay here for a little bit, you need to rest."

    Lindsey must hear us talking, and the idea of us staying here obviously doesn''t please her, because she quickly clears her throat to get our attention. I think we both forgot she was even there.

    "Yeah, hi, so are you guys going to like, use a bed or anything?," she asks. "That area is strictly for customers only."

    Her eyes bounce from me to Will but settle on him of course.

    Will shakes his head in disbelief as he frowns at her.

    "Yeah, hey Lindsey, how about you go right ahead and shove your tanning bed up your ass for me alright? She just needs a minute."

    My head snaps back around to look at Will in shock. Is he not aware that this girl would literally strip naked for him right now if he asked? And she''s gorgeous too. Barbie blonde hair, tall tanned legs that stretch for days. Theres no way he didn''t notice her interest.

    "You can''t talk to me like that!" Lindsey snaps, placing her hand on her hip as she points to the door. "You need to leave right now or I''m calling the police."

    "Fine. No problem," Will replies, giving her a tight grin before grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. "You''re fantastic at this whole customer service thing by the way," he says to her, "you really found your calling."

    Will leads the way out, dragging me with him toward the door as he gives Lindsey an earful. I look back to see her mouth agape, I actually almost feel sorry for her.

    "Asshole!," she calls after Will as she throws him her middle finger.

    "Wow, what a peach," he says, giving her a wave as the door closes behind us. This is all so insane.

    Outside, Will doesn''t seem any calmer.

    "Fuck, what a bitch," he mumbles to himself as he turns back to me and places his hands on my shoulders. He drops down slightly to meet my height. "Hey, let''s go to that coffee place you mentioned, you need to sit down for awhile. I promise you''ll be fine, you just need to take a breather."

    I pull back from him, shrugging from his grip.

    "No honestly," I say, "I''m feeling okay, other than being really embarrassed anyway. I''ll just go wait in my car for a little bit and then head home, don''t worry."

    "You said it was this way right?," he says as he takes my hand again and leads me towards the street corner, completely ignoring what I just said.

    I huff a little but don''t protest too much, I dont have the energy for it.

    I guess we''re going to get that coffee after all.

 Chapter 6

    ''Dean''s Beans'' hangs above the door of the coffee shop Will and I arrive at. I really do hope its better than the cafe or I''m going to be caught in two lies by him today.

    Plopping myself down into a chair, I rest my hands on my lap. I still feel a little off, and knowing that I shouldn''t be here is making it worse.

    "You want anything?," Will asks as he throws an eye over the menu board behind the counter.

    "Yes please, a cappuccino would be nice, thank you."

    "You can''t have that," he says.

    Is this guy serious? Thirty seconds into this and he''s telling me what I can or can''t have.

    Noticing my obvious annoyance, Will sits into the booth, facing me.

    "Sorry," he sighs as he explains himself, "I don''t mean that you can''t have it, I just meant that caffeine isn''t a great idea when you''re experiencing panic attacks."

    "A panic attack," I clarify. "Singular. And I''m not even sure that''s what it was."

    "Izzy," he says, "that is exactly what is was." His insistence is close to irritating, but I cant get upset with his efforts to help me.

    "Okay, so maybe just a milkshake then?" I ask.

    He bites his lip.

    "Oh c''mon, what''s wrong with a milkshake?" This is getting a little silly.

    "The sugar probably isn''t great either... maybe a coffee shop wasn''t the best place to bring you."Will sits back against the leather seat, a little unsure of what to do. I cant hide the laugh that escapes me.

    "Alright," I say, "I''ll just have a water with ice, that okay?"

    "It kinda makes me look like a cheapskate, but I''ll make an exception here."

    "Thanks," I call after him as he goes to order our drinks.

    My mind wanders the whole time he''s gone. That attack or whatever it was, was one of the most terrifying things I''ve ever experienced. I think back over the moments before it started, trying to understand. I was so worried about Jamie knowing where I was, or what I was doing. The fear I seem to have of him is overwhelming.

    We can''t keep going like this. All the fighting is too much. And we are absolutely not on the same page about the future. How can I fix all of this? Fix me, fix him. Make it all work somehow.

    As I explore the mess that is my life, I realise how naive it was to believe that marriage and children were somehow just never going to come up. We are at that stage of our lives now I suppose. Jamie is only twenty-seven, but a lot of his friends are starting to settle down. We''ve been to three weddings in the last twelve months alone, with two more save the date cards stuck to our refrigerator. Did I really not see this coming?

    Maybe he''s feeling the pressure and thinks it''s what he has to do. Although I know Jamie, he rarely lets anyone pressure him into anything. If he wants to do it, its because he''s decided to.

    My thoughts are interrupted as Will sits my water down in front of me. I thank him, looking curiously at his styrofoam cup. I wonder if I can guess what''s inside it? Is he a tea kind of guy? I don''t see a string hanging over the side so I doubt it. Maybe it''s a caramel latte or something, he does seem kind of quirky in a way. If he didn''t have a lid on it, it would be much easier to guess.

    I''m enjoying my little slice of entertainment when I notice him staring at me, his head cocked to the side like he''s watching a dog play with a toy.

    "What are you thinking about?" he asks unexpectedly.

    I hold his gaze for a moment, deciding not to share my silly game in the hope that I can still get it right.

    "I''m thinking that I wanted to thank you for what you did," I say quietly. "I''m sure I''d still be a sweaty mess back there if you didn''t know what to do."

    "Don¡¯t mention it," he says, "I''m just glad you''re okay, and I''m sorry if it was all of this that set it off somehow." He takes a sip from his cup, blowing into the little opening to cool it down first. Maybe it''s a mocha. Although, for some reason, I just can''t picture him enjoying that.

    "I dont know what caused it," I say with a shrug, "like I said back there, it''s been a really weird day."

    He nods along thoughtfully, but remains unconvinced.

    "Well either way, the main thing is that you''re alright."

    We sit in silence for a little bit as I let it all sink in, taking sips of our drinks and listening to the chit chat of the conversations around us. I''m relieved to find that my chest isn''t feeling so tight anymore.

    "So that breathing thing you told me to do was pretty good. Where did you learn that?," I ask.

    "It''s called box breathing,¡± he says. ¡°That one has always worked for me, it gives you something to focus on rather than whats happening to you. You should look into it a bit, see what works for you. You''ll wanna'' get very familiar with all the different kinds of techniques if the panic starts to become a regular thing."

    "God I hope not." I mumble. "Do attacks like that happen to you often?"

    "I haven¡¯t had anything that extreme in a couple of years, but I''ve learnt to manage it well. I had my first one when I was seventeen, and then they kinda'' just snowballed from there. It took awhile for me to do anything about it though. It was another four years before I saw a therapist, I stopped messing around with stupid stuff and tried to get a handle on things. It can take a bit of time to get to the root of it. Its not always cut and dry."

    I quickly try to do some rough math in my head to get an idea of Wills age, but he hasn''t quite given me enough to go on.

    He smirks over at me as if he can read my mind. "I''m thirty one," he says.

    A flush of embarrassment runs over me. "Was it that obvious I was counting?"

    "You were just short of adding it up on your fingers," he says with a chuckle. I''ll have to work on my poker face it seems.

    "Well," I say, "just to save you any internal guessing, I''m twenty five."

    "Twenty-five?" His eyes widen a little. "Wow, why does that sound so young? Not that you look any older of course, I probably should have guessed".

    I start to contemplate what kind of coffee an older man might drink, not that Will is in any way geriatric. I imagine someone that old might simply enjoy a warm milk. Gosh I hope he''s not drinking that. I stop wondering the moment I realise that he''s waiting for me to speak again. In my haste to fill the silence, I say something stupid.

    "A six year age gap is nothing at our age is it?"

    I''ve no idea why I said that. Maybe to make him feel more comfortable, but it doesn''t matter really, because we won''t know each other after this encounter. I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend I neglected to tell him about when he first asked me for coffee. Oh great, here comes the guilt again¡­

    I stare down at my hands, picking at the skin around my thumbs as an uneasy feeling devours me before I speak up again.

    "I''m sorry... for um¡­ for the whole boyfriend thing." My shame seeps from every pour. "I shouldn''t have done that. Well, I shouldn''t have done this," I say as I wave my hand in a small circle between us.

    Will meets my eyes, there¡¯s a look of annoyance on his face and I can tell his teeth are slightly clenched, but he doesn''t make me feel any worse about it.

    "It''s fine," he says, "forget it, for all I know you thought it really was just a friendly coffee. I can''t be upset about that can I?"

    We both know he''s trying to let me off the hook. I''m curious to know why he''s being so sweet about it rather than chewing me out, I know Jamie would.

    "No?," I ask, "You said yourself that I should feel guilty about it, and I do. So I think its important to say it. I did the wrong thing, I should have been honest with you from the start."

    As he draws his cup to his lips once again, I eye it, becoming determined to guess the contents. Surely it''s not anything with the words ''skinny'', or ''low fat'' in front of it?

    "Well, now it really is just coffee I guess," he says with a shrug. "No harm done."

    His smile is soothing in a way that I can''t describe, and the low lights of the coffee shop only seem to highlight the colour of his eyes to me.

    "Now it is," I agree.

    I decide there and then that he has to be drinking an americano. There''s no doubt about it. Will is honest to a point that it''s blunt, saying what he means with no real frills, just like his chosen beverage. I wonder if he''s even added milk.

    We talk for another little while, slipping into a comfortable conversation about our lives. I finally reveal to him that Michelle and Carol are not in fact my moms, but close enough. I don''t bother getting into the details of my own mom, other than the fact that she passed.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    I find out that he''s not originally from Ardeen or Cleveland, or even Ohio for that matter, but from a little town in Denver, Colorado, He moved here to live with his dad at fourteen after his parents got divorced. His dad was originally from here, and always wanted to come back, so both Will and his sister uprooted their lives and came along for the ride.

    We laugh over the fact that we''ve probably been to a lot of the same places at the same time, considering how our interests are so similar. I talk to him about how difficult it was to decide to drop out of collage, minus the Jamie and Zach detail of course. I simply lie and tell him that the teaching position just didn''t work out.

    He reveals that he never went to college at all. Unfortunately, circumstance dictated that for him too.

    Wills father died suddenly just as he was finishing high school. It meant that both his dads house and business were left to Will and his older sister. It was around this time that his panic attacks started, so he made the decision to handle the chaos that was happening in his life rather than add to it. I can''t imagine having to make the choices he had to make at that age.

    He and his sister sold the house and both bought apartments of their own eventually. He says that it''s mostly her that runs the business now. It''s hospitality of some sort, but he''s pretty vague about it. Will helps out with the financing and paperwork side of things, which leaves him a bunch of free time to work on his music and his band, hence the guitar strings. Apparently the band is pretty well known around Cleveland and some other places. I wouldn''t know I suppose, Jamie and I don''t often go to see live music anymore. He prefers restaurants and theatre.

    I used to see a lot of bands with my sister Sarah. She''s a big music fan too, always going to different gigs around town, the kids don''t slow her down in that sense. I could sometimes drag Jamie to the odd show, but I''ll admit it''s been a while since I last tried.

    Will and I continue to talk music for a long time. I can''t seem to shut up yapping about my grandfather and all of the things he taught me to play. I also sit and listen almost star stuck as he tells me some more details about his band, Small Edit. He says they picked the name because every time one of them would write a song, Will would come along and make some of those said ''small edits'' to it, and it kind of just stuck and became an inside joke. It''s not all that funny from the outside, but I smile as he tells the story anyway, because it¡¯s the way he tells it that makes it sound interesting.

    He mentions another bandmate a few times, Adam I think, or maybe Aidan? I''m not sure. He''s so passionate about it all that he''s speaking a mile a minute and I''m struggling to keep up. He animatedly gushes about his songs and plans for their future. They need another guitarist on board, and they''ve been looking for awhile. It¡¯s only recently that they found somebody who they want to try out. Will is reluctant because it''s only been the three members for so long, but he knows overall that they''d sound better if they added a little more dynamic. The whole conversation really sparks something in him, it''s fascinating to watch.

    Will begins to tell me about a show they played a few weeks ago, but it somehow sounds eerily familiar¡­

    "So the power got cut out,¡± he explains, ¡°but we knew we couldn''t just stop so-"

    "So you played the rest of the set acoustically," I say, finishing his sentence for him.

    He sits back in , totally taken by surprise.

    "Yeah¡­ how''d you know that?," he asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

    "This is so weird," I say, "but I''m pretty sure that my sister was there. She told me all about it, it sounded amazing." A sudden realisation now dawns on me.

    "Hold on, did you say your friends name was Adam?"

    "Yeah, why?"

    I pull my phone from my pocket and head straight to Sarah''s Instagram page.

    "Sorry," I explain, "I''m not trying to be rude. I think you might know my sister Sarah, I''m pretty sure she''s friends with Adam." I smile weakly, half hoping that I might have this wrong.

    "No way?," Will says skeptically, "Let me see her."

    I scroll through my phone, coming to Sarah''s picture and holding it up for him. "She''s invited me to see a band her friend Adam plays in a million times. I''ve never met him, but I know for sure that she told me that story recently."

    Lo and behold, Will does indeed know Sarah.

    "Get out of here!" he exclaims, "Tully is your sister?" He smiles over at me, humoured by our odd connection.

    Tully is our surname, a lot of Sarahs friends seem to call her by it. Is Will her friend too?

    "I don''t know her that well," he says, "but you''re right, she and her husband are good friends with Adam."

    I''m unsure why, but I feel a little relief upon hearing that.

    "What a small world," I murmur as I slide my phone back into my pocket.

    "It sure is,¡± Will says as as an air of mischief fills his voice. ¡°I wonder if Adam will tell her that I tried to bang her little sister."

    My jaw drops at the suggestion, but Will doesn''t seem to notice my discomfort.

    Actually," he says, slapping his hand onto the table playfully. "Y''know what? I''ll tell her myself when I see her tomorrow night!"

    "Please don''t do that," I say, rolling my eyes at the thought. "We agreed to coffee Romeo, you didn''t try to bang anyone. And what''s tomorrow night anyway?"

    "Oh, we''re playing a gig at that place, The Assembly, you should come, bring your boyfriend along if you want."

    I pause with shock, he can''t be serious? This is his first mention of Jamie since I told him that he existed, but it''s clear that he''s genuine with that offer. I start to feel that somewhat familiar feeling that I had outside the tanning salon all over again as a prickly heat rises up my back. I swallow it back down with some more water before replying.

    "That''s probably not a good idea," I say as I play with the straw in my cup.

    "Why not? I won''t tell him I was trying to get you into bed if that''s what you''re worried about?"

    "Hey! Thats the second time you''ve said that,¡± I say, scolding him. ¡°I hate to break it to you, but this was never going to be anything more than coffee Will."

    "Oh please," he says with a smirk, "if you think for a second that I wasn''t originally intending to get you back to my place, you clearly don''t have a wild enough imagination."

    Wills cocky demeanour pulls an odd reaction out of me, and I find myself beginning to blush.

    His words didn''t come across as rude, in fact they thrill me. You know the kind of feeling you get when you first meet somebody you like? Or the first time you kiss them? That''s exactly it. I quite like Wills mischievous streak. I''d be willing to bet that there is milk in his coffee after all. Possibly sugar too.

    I avoid addressing his remark. My reddened cheeks are enough of a reply.

    "Jamie doesn''t really like music that much." I say, giving my excuse. "And I''m not sure how I''d even explain knowing you anyway."

    "I''m not trying to encourage you to lie to the guy or anything Isobel," Will says, "but can''t you just say we met at the music store? It''s technically true, and besides, going back to my place is definately off the table now anyway, so he has nothing to worry about there."

    Will lets out a little laugh at what is an obvious joke, but I feel this weird sting of sadness hit me as he says it, and find myself blurting out the first thought that comes to me.

    "Is it?"

    Oh god, I wish my mouth had a reverse button to combat my stupidity.

    "S-Sorry," I stammer, trying to pull my words back. "That''s not what I meant, I meant to say it is! Because of course it is... off the table I mean... I-I agree with you".

    Jesus christ, I must be a glutton for punishment. That''s the only way to explain why I keep putting my foot in my mouth with this guy. What did I mean by that anyway?

    Will studies me, managing to make me feel even more embarrassed. He places his cup down on the table and sits back in his chair, thinking carefully about what he wants to say.

    "I better tell you something now," he says with a serious tone, "so that you can decide how we leave here."

    My nerves are making me feel sick to my stomach, but I listen intently, keeping my eyes trained on him.

    "I need you to understand that I will never ever knowingly touch somebody else''s girlfriend," he says, "not ever." His face looks disgusted at the mere idea of it.

    I nod my head, unsure how to react.

    "Thats... that''s fine," I say meekly. "I didn''t say I wanted you to do otherwise did I?"

    That sentence even tastes like a lie as it spills out. But it''s not a lie though right? I love Jamie. I don''t want anybody else.

    Will lets out a sigh, disappointed by my lack of conviction.

    "I''ve been on the other side of that situation Isobel," he continues. "It''s a shitty thing to have happen to you." He looks away from me and swallows hard, trying to keep some form of emotion down. I have to pull this back somehow.

    "I''m sorry that happened to you Will, but I really wasn''t suggesting that I wanted to-"

    "I just need you to know," he says, looking me dead in the eye and not letting me finish. "That regardless of anything else, I won''t do that. So if you''re looking for a little escape from your vanilla life or whatever, I''m not your guy. I think you''re kind of cool, and I''m sure we could be friends, but that''s it."

    His words hit me like a punch in the gut. ''Looking for a little escape... vanilla life''.

    I find myself becoming irritated. Will doesn''t know me. How dare he!

    I lean across the table, pinning him in place with a glare.

    "Look," I say, "I know I did a stupid thing by agreeing to come here, and that you don''t really know me, but I am not some kind of slut Will. Coming here for a cup of coffee with you, or water in this case, does not equate to me wanting to sleep with you. I didn''t try to do anything except go home before we even got here, so don''t make me out to be some dick crazy girl who''s after you, because that''s not the case."

    I feel a fire in my belly as I set him straight, but he just continues to sit back in his chair, examining me as he drums his thumb on the table. The look on his face leaves me with the impression that I''ve somehow humoured him.

    "You pout when you''re mad, do you know that?," he says. There''s a smirk on his face, and he holds my eyes until I finally break and smile back at him.

    "I do not," I say with a flush in my cheeks.

    Will clears his throat, acknowledging the little speech I just gave. "Okay,¡± he says, ¡°fair enough. I think we might be on the same page here. However I do want to clear up one thing that you mentioned."

    Oh god, what did I say wrong now?

    Placing his elbows onto the table, Will leans in like he wants to tell me a secret.

    "You said that this was always going to be coffee and nothing more right?"

    "Right."

    "Wrong. Because I can tell you without a doubt, that if there was no boyfriend involved here Isobel, then you''d be in my bed screaming my name right this very second. I knew that the moment I saw you walking around that store in those tight little jeans of yours, and I can guarantee you that there would have been no way in hell I''d have waited for a second date before I peeled them off of you and fucked your brains out."

    My eyes go wide as I almost drop my cup. For a split second I let my mind consider that alternate reality, feeling every word of what he just said between my legs. But as speechless as I may be, I absolutely can''t give him the upper hand here.

    "You''re pretty sure of yourself." I say, sitting back and acting like his words have had no effect on me.

    "I am." He wears a shit eating grin on his face that I''m desperate to wipe off.

    "Screaming your name huh? Is that what normally happens for you with your groupies?"

    "I guess-so," he sing-songs.

    "And what was it again?" I ask.

    "What was what?"

    "Your name?"

    Pausing to enjoy the look of confusion on his face, I know that I''ve made us even. It''s then that he realises what I''m doing, and a grin of my own appears.

    "Well that''s just rude Isobel," he says, pretending to be insulted, "at least I paid you a compliment."

    I let out a laugh, feeling triumphant before glancing at the clock that''s hanging above the bathroom door. Seven thirty-five. That can''t be right, can it? I double check my watch to be sure.

    "Shit!" I exclaim, jumping from my seat and hitting my thighs off the side of the table, knocking our empty cups over in the process.

    "Whoa, easy, are you okay?" Will stands and puts his hand out to steady me.

    "Yes, sorry, I just didn''t realise the time, I should be home by now."

    Pulling out my phone, I check for any missed calls from Jamie, but theres nothing, thats good. I look to Will again.

    "Listen, thank you so much for today. I genuinely don''t know what I would have done without you."

    "Don''t sweat it," he says, "really."

    As Will stands, he grabs both our cups and walks them to the trash.

    I double check I have all of my belongings before I edge my way to the door.

    "I''ll call you tomorrow Will, for the strings. And I promise I won''t take any offence if you don''t answer and never come back after all of this."

    He shakes his head at me. "I don''t have a choice, it''s too hard to get those strings anywhere else."

    I let him away with his little jab and get going. I''m half way out the door before I decide to turn back and call after him again.

    "Hey, by the way, what kind of coffee did you have?"

    He looks a little bewildered as he shrugs his shoulders. "It was just an americano."

    "Anything in it?"

    "Milk and a little sugar, why?"

    "No reason,¡± I say with a smile, ¡°I''ll call you tomorrow Will, bye".

    Feeing a little smug, I rush out the door and down the street towards my car. My phone starts to ring just as I climb into the driver seat. It''s Jamie.

    "Hey,¡± I say, attempting to sound calm as I answer. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late, I got held up."That''s not a lie.

    "Oh, is everything alright?"

    "Yeah of course. You know me and the ladies, yap, yap, yap." Okay, that''s a lie.

    "Will you be long?," he asks, "I''m starving!"

    "I''ll be about thirty minutes. You go ahead and eat without me, I''ll reheat whatever we''re having."

    "I haven''t made anything, I was waiting for you."

    I feel a little annoyance chip away at me. He means he''s waiting on me to cook, I always do it. What has he been doing all afternoon?

    A pang of guilt quickly hits me, whatever it was, I bet he wasn''t agreeing to coffee dates with total strangers. I am so going to hell.

    "Why don''t I treat us to take out?," I suggest, as if that¡¯s going to erase all of my guilt.

    "Yeah I guess that will work... hey next time can you call if you''re going to be late? Save me waiting around like an idiot."

    "Sure Jamie, I''m sorry, time just got away from me".

    "It''s fine, I''ll order some Chinese. You want the usual?"

    "Please".

    "Cool. Hurry up okay?"

    "Yeah, I''ll be home soon... bye".

    Turning my key in the ignition, I switch on the radio as the whole day hits me. I suddenly realise just how exhausted I am from it. This has been the weirdest, scariest most unusual day I¡¯ve had in a long time. And yet all I can think about is how good Wills words made me feel moments ago.

    Pulling out, I join a string of traffic, hopeful that the music I''m playing will drown out all of my scattered thoughts and carry me home.

 Chapter 7

    The evening passed by a whole lot smoother than my day did thankfully. Jamie and I cuddled up on the sofa after our take out and watched TV. For whatever reason, he made no mention of the future plans he had been discussing at lunch. Maybe he realised how freaked out it made and was happy to let it rest. All I know is that I was glad he didn''t bring it up, because I was feeling so guilty about the whole Will thing that I might have gave in and agreed to anything he wanted then and there.

    I woke up to him kissing my forehead after I''d fallen asleep on him. This is how I love him. Sweet and thoughtful, this is the Jamie that I know and love most of the time.

    We drag ourselves off to bed and I wrap myself in his arms until I hear him slip off to sleep. My mind drifts back to Will, forcing me to face the ugly truth of how stupid I was today. I never want Jamie to know just how close I came to messing it all up with a complete stranger. I don''t even recognise the person I was. I''d never want to do that to him. Not ever.

    "He did it to you though," a little voice in my head whispers, bringing up one of those memories from the locked box I keep.

    Yes, Jamie had cheated on me. Once. It was during the first few months of our relationship. But things are entirely different now though. We live together, we share a life, we have some sort of future, a little messy and unknown right now, but a future none the less.

    Back then, he said we were still figuring it all out, and that it wasn''t a big deal. It felt like a big deal to me, but I wanted him. I loved him.

    Jamie never came out himself and admitted his indiscretion to me, he said that he was too ashamed. The girl he had cheated on me with found me on social media and told me everything in a message. She said she hadn¡¯t even known I existed until she saw me in a photo with Jamie.

    He begged for forgiveness, said he''d made a stupid mistake at a Christmas party, who hadn''t? At least that''s what he thought. So I let it go.

    He would never do that to me now though, I''m sure of it. And I won''t do it to him either. I decide to push the whole thing down, promising myself that I''ll never be so reckless again before fitfully drifting off to sleep.

    ??

    When I arrived into work this morning, I had only one thing on my agenda. Avoid Will.

    The first thing I had to do was accept the delivery of infamous guitar strings. I waited an hour for Carol and Michelle to come in just so I could get Carol to call him instead of me. I had decided to completely separate myself from him going forward.

    I then made the strategic choice to spend my day relaying the stock room. I''ve been meaning to do it anyway, but it''s also my best shot at not seeing Will when he gets here. I convince myself that when he''s gone, I can put this whole stupid mess behind me.

    In one sense it feels like I¡¯m punishing myself. The stockroom here is a disaster, and that¡¯s putting it kindly. We¡¯re often so busy with everything else in the store that we¡¯ve let it become a dumping ground.

    Not too long into my self inflicted labour, I''m hauling boxes from one end of the stockroom to the other when I hear my name from out front, and realise that Michelle has been calling me out at the register.

    "You okay out here?" I ask, stepping out to check on her.

    "I sure am," she says cheerfully, "but you have a visitor."

    Her eyes guide me to where Will waits by the speaker cables. I should have known that he¡¯s ask for me. I''m covered in dust head to toe and sweating from lugging things around all morning. But him? Well he is glorious. I''d even go as far as to say that he''s made an extra effort for somebody. The smell of his cologne alone is almost enough to make me abandon my plan of ghosting him.

    "Hey Will," I say, feeling a slight blush warm my cheeks. He already has the strings in hand, so he doesn''t really need to see me at all. Why didn¡¯t I tell Michelle that I wanted to avoid him? I could have made up an excuse, this would all be so much easier if I had.

    I step out from behind the register, hoping to walk him towards the door and get this over with. All of Michelles attention is on us, and she has this weird knowing grin plastered on her face. Is she trying to signal me with her eyes or something? What is she doing? I frown at her, forcing her to drop the smile. Maybe I have this telepathy thing down too.

    Will has this unbelievably radiant look about him, like he''s glowing from the inside out. He seems like a genuinely happy person, while I feel like a dark cloud that''s here to paint his day grey.

    "Hey, how are you doing?," he asks. "I wanted to check on you after yesterday."

    Wonderful. He''s stunning and thoughtful, this is going to be like kicking a small animal.

    "Thanks," I say, leading us further away from Michelles earshot. "I''m fine now, please don''t worry about it. I''m sure it was a once off."

    My eyes roam over his fitted white button down. The short sleeves display all

    of the artwork on his arms, while the torso of it clings to him like it were made to his exact measurements. He''s killing me here.

    "Sorry, I''m a bit of a mess," I explain. "I''m doing some work out back."

    I try to brush myself down, but I''m not very successful. The dust sticks to my clothes as I blow my hair away my forehead in vain.

    "No, you look great don''t be silly. Listen, um, have you had lunch yet?"

    Oh no, I''ve got to nip this whole thing in the bud right now.

    "No she hasn''t!," a stern voice cuts over us. It''s Carol. I didn''t see her hovering behind me among the empty boxes. "I''ve told her twice now to go get some," she says as she eyes Will with suspicion. "Izzy who''s your friend? Is he going to feed you or am I?"

    What timing.

    "I''m not hungry," I insist. "Carol, this is Will. Will, Carol." The introduction is short and to the point, but also needless. I try giving Carol a look so she knows not to push it, but her focus stays glued to this new stranger as she stretches her arm out to shake his hand.

    "You''re not off the hook Izzy," she says, "You''re exhausting yourself, go with your friend. Eat or I''ll fire you."

    Carol is always full of these empty threats, she must say that she''ll fire me at least once a week, but I know when to push back and when to do as I''m told, and right now its the latter. I''ve noticed her watching me these last few days, and I don''t want to worry her.

    My eyes fall to Will as he gestures to the front door with a self-satisfied look on his face. "Well, it sounds like you''re coming with me."

    Great. I begrudgingly go and grab my wallet from out back. So much for sticking to the plan.

    As we step outside, the hot air hits my face and the sunshine instantly makes me feel happier. There''s no windows in the stockroom, so I didn''t realise I was missing it.

    I feel Will¡¯s attention on me, so I speak up before he has a chance to suggest going to get some food.

    "I''m really not all that hungry," I say, "and I''ve a lot to do back there. I think I might just grab a bottle of water and go back."

    He seems unsure of what to do with that, if not a little disappointed.

    "Okay, sure, whatever you need." He shrugs and pulls some sunglasses from his pocket, putting them on. Probably best that he hides those emeralds from me.

    "There''s a bench free over there," he says,gesturing behind me. "Why don''t you sit down and I''ll run to the kiosk around the corner and grab us some water."

    He doesn''t seem to sense my need to cut this short, or at least if he does he''s ignoring it, because he¡¯s out of sight before I can protest. I go ahead and take a seat.

    Pulling my hair back off my face, I tie it into a bun and close my eyes, soaking up all of the sun I can get. I needed out of that little room more than I realised.

    As I wait, I find myself wishing that I were anywhere else but here. I start to imagine myself spread out on a towel at the beach, enjoying the heat on my skin when I''m suddenly startled by the feeling of an ice cold block against my cheek. I flinch and open my eyes to see Will smiling down at me as he holds out my water. I grumble out a thank you and move over a bit.

    "So I got you something," he says shyly as he sits down beside me and hands me a book.

    "Actually I didn''t get it for you, it''s mine, but I think it''s something you could use".

    I turn the book over, examining it as I do. It''s thin, and the spine has little tiny cracks all over it. I can see that a lot of the pages have been dog eared without even having to open it. The cover has big block white lettering that sits on a purple background. ''The Power Of Four. A self help guide to breathing your way to a calmer world''.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "A self help book?," I ask curiously, holding it up. I always thought these were a bit gimmicky, but I''m not about to be rude about it.

    "I know, it''s not normally my thing either," Will says, "but it really helped me. Just read it, put it into action when you need and I promise it will help a little".

    I can''t believe he''d give me this, it''s so sweet of him.

    "Thank you," I say, a little stunned by his kindness, "but are you sure you don''t need it?"

    "I''ve read that thing cover to cover easily eight times, it can''t help me any more than it already has. And hey, if I happen to forget something, I can always call you and borrow it right?"

    "You could if you had my number," I say thoughtlessly.

    "I guess you can give it to me now then."

    With that Will pulls his phone from his pocket and unlocks it before handing it over to me. I can¡¯t tell if that was a really smooth move or just opportunistic.

    "You''re really serious about us being friends aren''t you?," I ask.

    He looks at me funny. "What do you mean?"

    "Well, do you make the effort to be friends with every girl that turns you down romantically?"

    Wills mouth drops open, all be it with a bit of a smile.

    "Wait," he says, "are you trying to say that you turned me down? You''re kidding right?"

    "No, I''m just saying, I don''t get why you''re trying so hard here, you could have picked up your strings and left. I''m sure you''re not short of friends Will."

    "No, you''re right," he says, "I''m not, but I got the feeling that you might be."

    Ouch. I mean he¡¯s not wrong, but still.

    I do have friends, just not any that I see very often. It''s not because I''m a crappy friend or anything. It''s just that, I suppose I''ve settled down now, this happens. You meet someone, see your friends less, talk less, then you eventually lose touch with some of them. That''s life.

    "I also think you''re kind of interesting Isobel," Will continues. "Like a puzzle of some kind."

    "Ah, and let me guess," I retort, "you''d like to figure me out?"

    "In a manor of speaking."

    Staring down at his phone screen, I know I should have a spine here and hand it back without my number. That''s what I should do, and then I''d ask him to drop the friendship pursuit too. It''s not what I do though. Instead I dial my number in and save it under my name. I figure he''ll call or message me at some point and then I''ll ignore it and that will be that. No harm done.

    I shrug my shoulders, handing his phone back. "There''s nothing much to figure out here I''m afraid Will, I''m vanilla, just like you said, plain and simple."

    He takes off his sunglasses and watches me as I continue to find traces of dust on my clothing and try to wipe them off.

    "I don''t think you''re vanilla at all," he says, "but that''s part of the puzzle I guess."

    I know he''d like me to respond to that, but instead I just sit, letting the sun beat down on us both. As we look out onto the street, Will is unable to stand the awkward silence for long.

    "So have you thought about coming tonight?," he asks.

    No, I haven''t thought about it at all, because there''s absolutely no way I can go.

    "I can''t tonight," I tell him, "I forgot I had plans. I''m sorry."

    I''d really love to hear him sing, but I know that it''s not possible. Even if I wanted to go and did lie to Jamie about how I met Will, it''s too late to even suggest an evening out now, and Jamie doesn''t like me to go out to places like that alone.

    "Don''t worry about it," he says flatly.

    I sneak a peak up at his face just in time to catch the disappointment. A stab of guilt rips through me, but I know it needs to be like this. He''ll thank me for it in the end. I can''t imagine he would want Jamie harassing him at a show or something if he found out we had been for coffee yesterday. It''s better this way.

    Giving up the chase, Will stands, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

    "Anyway Isobel, I''ve clearly caught you at a bad time, and I gotta'' run. I need to get some of the set up ready for tonight, I guess I''ll talk to you some other time..."

    The strain in his voice gives away his desire for me to say something meaningful, but instead, I let him believe that I''m not at all what he might have thought.

    "Yeah sure," I say halfheartedly, "and hey, good luck with the show, I hope it goes well."

    "Thanks."

    Will looks down at the book he gave me only minutes ago before staring back at me again. "Make sure to use that alright?," he says

    "I will, thank you so much, really."

    He stalls for the tiniest second, and I almost break and ask him to stay. More than anything I''d like for him to come and sit with me and talk for far too long again. Instead, I watch on coldly as he gives me a weak smile before turning away and walking down the street. Now he''s nothing more than a memory to me.

    I feel like a total bitch as I sit clutching the book. How could I be so cruel so somebody so kind? Opening the cover, I flip through the pages, finding little notes that Will scribbled for himself written all over the margins. My heart sinks when I get to the back cover and I find one that he wrote for me.

    Izzy,

    I do hope that what happened was a one time thing, and that you''ll never need to use this book, but if you ever find yourself in that situation again, make sure you call me. Day or night. Everyone needs a partner when they go though something like this, and now I''m yours.

    Will

    His phone number is written just under his sign off. He really did have the purest of intensions.

    I''m such an asshole. Will was trying to offer me genuine, kindhearted help and friendship and I threw it in his face. Guilty tears creep their way to the corners of my eyes. This whole thing is so unfair. Surely we can just be friends? Can''t I simply tell Jamie that''s what we are and it be okay?

    No, I can''t tell him that. Because he won''t understand, he''d blow up. Never mind the fact that I''ve just ruined any chance of a friendship with Will anyway.

    It''s not happening, I''ll just have to accept it.

    Trying to forget it all, I wipe at my eyes. This is so embarrassing. I''ve only known Will two days, he means nothing to me, and thats the way it''s going to stay.

    ??

    "So who was that?," Michelle asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me the second I arrive back to the store.

    "It was just a friend Michelle."

    "I''ve never met a friend of yours before Izzy," she says, grinning like an idiot. "Tell me about him. How''s Jamie by the way?" She leans her elbow on the counter and props her chin onto her fist as if she''s about to hear a truckload of gossip.

    "Subtle Michelle, but I''m still with Jamie, I''d have told you if I wasn''t. Will is just a friend, not even a friend, he''s a guy that came in here yesterday for strings. He came back today to collect them. Story over."

    "Story not over!," she says as she rounds the counter and pokes at my side. "Why did he ask you for lunch if he was just a customer huh? And why did he give you this?," she asks as she grabs the book from my hand before I have the sense to hide it. I reach for it but she gets a good look at it before I snatch it back.

    "The Power of Four... four what?" she asks.

    "It''s nothing, just something we spoke about. He let me borrow it, that''s all."

    "Okay sure, if you say so, but he''s cute!"

    "Cute Michelle? Aren''t you like, a lesbian?" I can only laugh at her efforts to get more information from me. She always manages to cheer me up, intensional or not.

    " Yes, but I still know a handsome man when I see one, and he for sure is one!"

    "Okay," I say, "that''s great and all but he''s just a customer to me, and my boyfriend is still my boyfriend, so I hope that clears up any questions you had."

    "Yes m''am!," she says as she salutes me before marching off towards the register. I roll my eyes at her playfully and head back to the stockroom, making a conscious effort not to think about Will, or his show or his adorable little book note for the rest of the day.

    ??

    Hours later, after I''ve pulled, pushed and stacked boxes and boxes of stock and equipment that I''ve never even seen before, I''m finally finished working on the stockroom, and I am quite literally disgusting. My fingernails are black, there''s dirt embedded into my hair, and I''ve been sweating so much that my shirt is now wet. I hope to god there''s wine at home, because I''ll be drinking the whole damn bottle after the day I just put in.

    "Izzy?," Carol calls, "are you still working in here? It''s almost seven."

    She steps inside, taking a look at all of the work I''ve done. "Oh my, it looks great in here, you must be worn out!"

    "Yeah, but at least it''s done," I say. "The layout makes much more sense now. We can get at the popular items a little easier."

    Carol nods in agreement, but then quietly pushes the door closed behind her. My eyes move from her, to the door and back again. I know from that move alone that I''m in for a talking to.

    I wait like a child who¡¯s about to be scolded, knowing that I can''t leave until she gets out whatever she wants to say. She sits down on a small step stool, looking all business as her eyes peer over the top of her glasses at me.

    "So. How are you doing?," she asks. "Really?"

    This is weird. Heart to hearts aren''t Carols area. Michelle usually looks after the mushy stuff, Carol is more practical. She teaches me things, gives me advice on taxes and stuff. This is unchartered territory for us.

    "I''m okay," I lie, "I''ve been a bit tired lately. I probably just need to take some vitamins or something, the two of you don''t need to worry."

    "I''m not worried," she insists, "I know you can take care of your own body Izzy. It''s the mental stuff that you neglect, and I can tell that something isn''t right with you. Is it your dad? You know you can talk to me about it."

    It''s decision time. Carol and Michelle have been good to me ever since I started here. I often joke that they took me in like a stray, but really they''ve taken me in like family. I tell them almost everything. Almost.

    I feel my shoulders sink as I try to hold onto everything that¡¯s swirling around my mind. I have to let something out, this week has left too much weight on me.

    "Jamie wants to get married," I blurt.

    Carol is the type of person who''s face tells you everything you need to know before her mouth does, and right now I know she thinking that marriage is an awful idea.

    "Well... you know," she says carefully, "if you do that, it''s likely to cost a lot... and then I imagine you guys might start talking about kids then too¡­"

    "Um, yeah, he might have brought that subject up too"

    "If thats the case Izzy, it could mean that you never get the chance to go back and study. You''ll never get to do the one thing you''ve always wanted. Would you be okay with that?"

    Carol wants me to go back and finish my training more than I do, she makes reference to it all the time. She''s right though, if Jamie and I sink all our money and time into a wedding, I''ll never manage to go back to study. It''s hard enough to make it happen right now, not that I can really say I''ve tried all that much after what happened with Zach.

    "What do you want?," she asks as her eyes glisten over a little, sadness pouring from her.

    "I don''t think I want to get married," I say, my voice shaking. "It''s not something that I feel I need to do."

    She perks up as soon as she hears that.

    "Then you''ve got to tell him that Izzy, regardless of the outcome. This is too big to compromise on. For him it''s a nice day and a piece of paper, for you it''s all the life plans you''ve ever made."

    "I never looked at it like that," I say, "I think I''ve been more worried about hurting his feelings."

    And how he might hurt me in the aftermath.

    "Look," Carol says, waving her hand like my point is trivial, "he''s a man, he''s not going to want to hear that you don''t want to marry him. It will be a personal insult no matter what way you deliver it. But you stand your ground do you hear me? You don''t ever give up on what you want. I love this store Izzy, but I can''t give you the position or the money you deserve here, and I don''t want to see you settle, not ever."

    A few tears escape and roll their way down my cheeks as I let out a small giggle. "Jeeze Carol, that''s quite a generalisation of all men there!"

    She gives me a heartfelt smile, "After all those years of oppression and stuff, I think they owe us a few of those."

    "You''re right," I tell her, ¡°about us getting married, not about all men... actually probably that too"

    "All I know Izzy, is that if you''re not on board one hundred percent, then it will never work. When Michelle and I got married, it was a different situation, but I can tell you with complete honesty that there was zero hesitation. There was no ''what ifs'', it was right and we knew that it was the next step for us. You don''t sound like you think it''s the next step for you and Jamie, and that''s okay. You might want it in five or ten years, after you''ve done all the other things you need to do, but then again you might not. You both need to want it though. That''s the important part."

    I nod my head, soaking up her words. "Thank you Carol,¡± I say. ¡°You guys are so good to me, I hope you know that I don''t take you or Michelle for granted." The shake in my voice still remains, but I don''t give away any more tears thankfully.

    "Yeah yeah," Carol says, "I love you too kid."

    She disregards her usual awkwardness and pulls me into a hug, it''s not her style at all, and as soon we let go she gives my shoulder a little push.

    "Now go home, you''re on overtime here and I''m not paying you."

    "Okay, okay, I''m going. Thank you again."

    She looks at me thoughtfully, addressing the whole marriage thing one last time.

    "You only get one life Izzy," she says, "make sure it''s yours."

    With that to think about, I go and grab my stuff, picking up the book that Will gave to me too. I''ll hide it in the back of my wardrobe or something for now.

    "See you guys Monday!," I call out as I leave.

    Catching Carols eye as I go, I give her a little nod of appreciation. I feel a whole lot braver after talking to her, and I''ve decided that I''m going to talk to Jamie this weekend and try to settle all of this as quickly and as easily as possible.

    I don¡¯t know for sure what I may want down the line, so I''m not saying no to marriage forever, but I am saying no for now. I can only hope that that¡¯s enough for him.

 Chapter 8

    Lucky for me, there was indeed wine at home, and I downed my first glass of pinot in roughly zero point five seconds. I''m now eagerly moving onto my next as my muscles finally start to relax after a hot shower. I was just short of taking a layer of skin off while washing away all of the dirt from that stockroom.

    As I sip away, I start to feel that warm, cozy feeling I usually do when I indulge.

    I''ve been obsessively refreshing Sarah''s Instagram feed since she posted a few pictures earlier tonight. It looks like she''s at Wills show. I''m not quite sure why, but it makes me feel a little sad.

    It''s only nine, but Jamie should have been home hours ago. I should have called him hours ago to check in too. Pulling his number up on my phone, the little smiley face I have beside his name bounces on the screen. That first glass of wine went down a little too well it seems.

    I press call and Jamie answers almost immediately.

    "Hey babe! Sorry, I know I should have called you, it''s been a hell of a day here."

    There''s a whole bunch of chatter and noise going on around him, he''s obviously not the only one that had to work late.

    "Don''t worry about it," I tell him, "I was delayed getting home myself, what''s going on there?"

    He sighs, sounding tired.

    "Something came up, some red tape that we''re trying to work around. It''s putting a delay on the launch of the software I was telling you about. It''s a bit of a shit show to be honest, my dad has been going nuts all day."

    I''ve seen his fathers temper before, it''s not pretty.

    "Oh no, what can you do?," I ask, "Will you be able to figure it out?"

    "I''m not too sure, I''ve reached out to some contacts to see if we can fast track the legal paperwork, but at this stage of the day I''ll be waiting until Monday"

    "I''m sorry babe, I know this is big for you."

    "Yeah, I''m not happy about it. We''ve all worked non-stop on this, but I suppose I just have to be patient now and see what happens over the next couple of days."

    "Why don''t you come home?," I suggest, "I''ve opened a bottle of wine..."

    "As tempting as that sounds Izzy, the guys have had a tough few weeks here, so I''ve ordered in some food and beers for everyone to try to keep their spirits up. I''m going to have to stay awhile."

    Just as soon as he says that, I vaguely hear somebody call out to him in the background. "Jamie they''re here."

    There''s quiet on the line for a minute after that, and then I hear some distorted mumbling that I don''t understand before he comes back to me.

    "So hey babe," Jamie says, "our food has arrived, why don''t you go and enjoy that bottle of wine and relax. I''ll be home late but I''ll try not to wake you."

    "Okay, I hope you guys have a nice night, I love you."

    "Love you too honey, goodnight."

    I quickly decide after that phone call that this weekend might not be the best time to talk to Jamie about the whole marriage and kids issue, not with how preoccupied he''s going to be with work. I''ll keep the fire in my belly and tell him next week though, after all this stuff settles down for him.

    "I suppose it''s just us tonight," I mumble into my glass of wine as I slump myself down onto the couch.

    As the evening wears on, I watch some mindless TV for a while and scroll on my phone. By the time I''ve finished my third glass, it''s well after ten o''clock and I''m wiped.

    Climbing into bed, I check Sarah''s Instagram one more time. She stopped posting updates hours ago, and there hasn''t been any activity since. I give up my strange quest of trying to get a glimpse of Will and let my head hit the pillow, quickly drifting off.

    ??

    Hours later, a sudden loud crash from the kitchen jolts me awake. What the hell was that? Is there someone here? I bolt upright at the thought and grab for Jamie over the covers, but there''s just an empty space beside me where he usually sleeps. Shit, what if there''s somebody here and he''s not at home?

    I listen for a moment, straining to hear, but there''s silence now. Looking around the room for some form of weapon, I realise that I am completely unprepared for something like this.

    Creeping out of bed, I tiptoe to the door, pressing my ear against it.

    "Fuck sake!" I hear Jamies voice echo throughout the apartment.

    Thank god. A rush of relief hits me as I step out into the hallway, wanting to see if he''s alright. I also take a mental note to put a golf club or something in the bedroom for the next time I''m alone here.

    Jamie turns around at the sound of my feet pattering across the floor tiles.

    "Oh you''re up," he says. His eyes are blurry and his words come out a little slurred, I guess a few beers with the guys turned into many.

    "Yeah, but don''t worry," I smile as I round the counter towards him. "I''m just glad you weren''t an intru- ouch shit!"

    I look down as a stinging sensation hits my feet, there¡¯s glass scattered all over the floor below me.

    "What is that?," I ask him, "Why didn''t you warn me?"

    Moving back, I try to avoid stepping on any more of it, but I can feel that theres already little shards stuck in my foot. Tiny specks of blood drop onto the tiles as I move. I grab at a barstool and pull it out so that I can sit down and remove the glass that''s now buried in my skin.

    Lifting my head, I notice that Jamie is still just standing there, examining the floor.

    "Jamie? Are you okay?," I ask

    His head snaps up and his eyes meet mine.

    "You got blood on the floor," he says.

    Is he kidding me?

    "Yes, because you got glass on the floor in the first place Jamie. What happened?"

    "What happened is that I came home to this fucking mess!," he says, pointing his finger toward the sink.

    I left my empty glass in there earlier along with some breakfast bowls from Jamie and I this morning, but I figured it could all wait until tomorrow, I have nothing but time then anyway.

    The breakfast bowls are still sitting in there, but my wine glass is missing, so its safe to assume that''s what''s in my foot right now.

    "Jamie it''s just a few dishes," I say, "I was home late too, I was going to wash up in the morning, it''s not a big deal."

    I''m probably feeling a bit too plucky after those drinks. Maybe I should say nothing.

    "So what Izzy? I have to live in a pigsty because you insist on giving all your free time to those women?"

    His words spit like venom as his eyes seem to glaze over. Jamie clenches both his fists by his sides, and I know I need to calm him down before this gets out of hand, so I offer up the only thing I can think of.

    "Why don''t you let me clean this up," I offer, "you go to bed. It''s nothing to worry about, I''ll wash up too, I shouldn''t have left the dishes in there, you''re right."

    "Oh, now you want to do it," he says, "now Queen Izzy is ready to clean up after herself!"

    Jamie suddenly rounds the corner of the counter and comes straight for me. I quickly move off the barstool and make an attempt to back away from him, but he''s fast, even when clearly drunk. As I try to run he reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling me back towards him.

    "Jamie stop!" I cry. We both know thats pointless though, he never stops until he''s ready to.

    He drags me by the hair back towards the kitchen. My feet cross over the broken glass all over again, and it slices into my skin as I try to move on the tips of my toes.

    Pulling me to the sink, Jamie pushes my head down towards it so that I''m just inches from the bowls that sit in there. The pain in my feet only gets worse when I get to place my full weight back on the ground.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    "You think this is the shit I want to come home to Izzy? After the day I''ve just had?" Jamies voice booms throughout the apartment. I don''t answer him, I just hold my eyes to the sink as tears threaten to come. There''s nothing I can say to stop this anyway, it''s too late.

    He pounds his fist onto the counter beside me. "Fucking answer me Izzy!," he screams.

    I hesitate just a little too long, so he reaches for my hair again and yanks my head back up. My scalp feels raw from the way he has the strands twisted around his fingers, and my body starts to tremble in response.

    "No, Jamie I''m sorry," I say, "I''ll clean it. I didn''t know, I''m so sorry."

    As much as it probably shouldn''t have, this has caught me off guard. Jamie has never done anything like this after he''s been drinking, he¡¯s actually usually a lot more loving and sweet. I''m afraid of how far he''s going to take it now that I can''t read him.

    He leans right in to my face, his teeth clenched.

    "You didn''t know?," he asks. "You didn''t know what? That the apartment should be clean? That you should tidy up after yourself? What? What is it you didn''t know Izzy?"

    "Please..." I can''t hold my tears back any longer, they slide down my cheeks as I reach up and try to loosen the grip he has on my hair before he rips it out entirely.

    Yanking me closer to him, he clamps his other hand to my throat.

    "You know, you might not want to be my wife, but I''ll be damned if you think I don''t expect you to act like one in my home."

    This is it. This is why he''s so angry. I can''t take back what I said about not getting married, so now he''s going to make me pay for it instead.

    I keep my eyes trained in-front of me, trying my best to blink away any tears that come.

    Jamie slowly let''s go of me, but I don''t dare to move, I keep my grip on the sink and make no sudden movements.

    "Clean it," he says. His words are so soft that it¡¯s unnerving.

    "Jamie..."

    "CLEAN IT!," he yells, his voice changing from sweet to demonic within seconds.

    Shaking, I quickly turn on the tap and reach for the dish soap on the counter, waiting for the water to run hot before pushing the sink plug down. I let no more than an inch or so of water fill up, I don''t want to give him any ideas.

    Jamie stands over me, watching as I scrub at the bowls. It''s humiliating. I can feel the hot air of his breath hitting my ear, he''s so close that I have to be careful not to bump my elbow off him as I run a sponge over the spoons. I clean everything much longer than needed, afraid that he might find a spec of food somewhere if I don''t, and then I set it all on the drainer before pulling the plug out of the sink again.

    As the water circles the drain, I watch it swirl and disappear, just like any hope I have of coming out of this confrontation unharmed.

    Silently, Jamie reaches across the kitchen to where the dish towel hangs on the oven door. He pulls it off, handing it to me. I''m sure that he''s intending to appear kind, but every move he makes terrifies me.

    He hovers near me like I''m a child as I dry the dishes. I glance up at him when I''m done, seeking permission to put them away. Standing back, he allows me the room to get to the cupboard, but as I move towards it, a shard of glass cuts deeper into the skin on the heel of my foot, and I let out a whimper.

    Jamie looks down at my feet, there''s no emotion on his face, making it impossible to anticipate what he plans to do. Without a word, he takes the bowls and spoons form my hands, putting them away himself.

    I stay rooted to the spot, right in the middle of the kitchen. After closing the cutlery drawer, Jamie then steps to the other side of the room, leaning his back against the work top and facing me. It''s as if I''m standing here on display for him.

    I flinch as he breaks the silence between us.

    "So I had a conversation today," he says.

    I feel afraid to even breathe, so I''m unsure if I should reply.

    "I was talking to Karl," he continues, "I''ve mentioned him before right? You know the kind of bullshit talk we get into. Cars, family... women."

    I''ve no real idea who Karl is, but I don''t want to show my confusion, so I nod along.

    "I told him what was going on with us," he says.

    "Wh- What''s going on with us?" My body shivers under his glare, for such a hot night, it''s now ice cold in here.

    "I told him that you don''t want to get married," Jamie says. "And that we might not even have kids. You wanna'' know what he said about that?"

    I know his question doesn''t really warrant an answer, so I wait.

    "He told me you were right. Well, kind of. What he actually said was that he and Rosemarie don''t even seem to like each other anymore, and that their sex life is in the toilet. He said getting married was the worst thing they ever did and they''re not even a year into it."

    He then lets out this weird chuckle that leaves me feeling unsettled.

    "Poor guy," he says, "can you believe it? They haven''t even had kids yet. Hell, that Rosemarie really found herself a sucker there.¡±

    I furrow my brow, unsure why he assumes she did anything, or how it relates to us, but he continues his story anyway.

    "She sits at home all day while he works, and now she won''t even give him thirty seconds before she falls asleep so he can try to knock her up. What a bitch"

    It''s like I don''t even know the person in-front of me right now. Jamie never talks like this, not to me anyway. I hate it, he sounds just like his father.

    "So anyway," he says with a slur, reminding me that he''s not quite himself. "I told him that we were still having sex pretty regularly, I''m sure you don''t mind me sharing that. Fuck me was he jealous Izzy, you should have heard him. I was so smug about it too, honestly I couldn''t help it. But then he said something that shut me right up."

    I wait in fear while Jamie glances around the kitchen, it''s as if he''s not quite sure of where he is until he looks my way again. A part of me hopes that he''s lost his train of thought, but then he speaks.

    "He said that I shouldn''t be trying to marry you anyway," he says. "Karl seems to think, that if we did that but didn''t have kids, that you''d get bored and start whoring around while I''m at work."

    Jamies face twists with disgust. I might have been grateful to this Karl guy for trying to convince him that marriage isn''t for everybody if his reasoning weren''t so vile.

    Moving my feet to try and avoid the discomfort, I notice how strange they feel, it¡¯s like there''s a numbness there now. A wet pool has formed beneath them as the blood continues to seep out. I really need to get this glass removed and clean myself up, but I cant take my eyes off of Jamie, he''s too unpredictable.

    "I realised something after he said that," he continues, ignoring any pain I¡¯m in. "I realised how hypocritical it is that you don''t wanna'' get married, considering how you expect all the things from me that a woman expects from a husband."

    I really don''t know what he means by that. In reality, I think I expect very little from Jamie, but I have to stand here and listen to his rambling either way.

    "I pay the majority of the rent, the food, bills, utilities, I take you out to nice places, get you nice things..." He keeps me under his angry stare as he stands up straight and begins to inch himself closer to me. ¡°So then I began to wonder; has Izzy found herself a sucker too?" There''s a glint in his eyes thats so cold it could cut right through me, so I begin back away from him, attempting to avoid the inevitable. "Is that what it is Izzy?," he asks me, "You''ve found your free ride?"

    "Jamie, you know thats not true. You know that I wanted to pay half of everything when I moved in. You wouldn''t let me!"

    I''m saddened that he''d even suggest that I''d take advantage of him.

    When we decided to move in together, I didn''t want to stay in this apartment because it was too expensive, and we didn''t need the spare room, or the gym, or the concierge, but he insisted. He said that we could split things 60-40. I said no. Of course I said no, I wanted it 50-50, but again, he insisted. And what Jamie wants, Jamie gets, good or bad. It''s never been an issue for us before, so why is he using it against me now? Especially when only days ago he was suggesting that I quit work altogether!

    "Jamie if the money is bothering you, you could have told me," I say, "I would have figured it out, you know that."

    "What bothers me Izzy, is that you think I''m going to let you take whatever you want from me and give nothing back."

    Jamie takes another step towards me, his anger seeming to be ready to spill over.

    "What do you mean?" I ask, "I don''t take anything from you, I don''t want anything from you."

    I match him pace for pace, moving back and keeping what feels like a safe distance between us.

    "I won''t turn into them Izzy," he says, "Rosemarie might have Karl fooled, but you can''t have the life I''m giving you and not compensate me for it."

    "Compensate you?¡±

    "Yes. If you want to have all of the things that you expect from a husband, then I want the things that I expect from a wife."

    My lip quivers, afraid to even ask my next question.

    "Like what? What is it you expect from a wife?"

    "A clean god damn home for starters!" His voice rings into my ears again as he slams his hand on the counter. "I want to come home to you cooking us dinner, not to find you''re working late or that you''re in on a Saturday when you should be here!"

    I cant believe this is really a conversation that we''re having. He doesn''t want a wife, he wants a housekeeper.

    "Jamie, this isn''t some 1940''s scenario where I drop to my knees at your request," I tell him, "you can''t ask any of that from me."

    Jamie instantly perks up upon hearing that, and a sinister smirk appears on his face as if he''s just had an idea.

    "Say that again?," he asks.

    I stare down at the floor, knowing that I¡¯ve went too far. I shouldn''t have answered him back, it''s the wine making me feel brave.

    As he stalks towards me, I try to hold my ground, but it''s painfully obvious that I''m scared.

    "You know what Izzy," he says, "you dropping to your knees sounds great to me. Why don''t you do just that."

    "What?"

    My mind goes into panic mode, desperately clinging to the hope that he isn''t implying what I think he is. But any uncertainty I have about it is made abundantly clear when he pointedly looks to the floor in front of him.

    "N- No, don''t be ridiculous Jamie." I shake my head in disbelief. He can be cruel at times, but he isn''t a monster, he doesn''t mean what he''s saying.

    "No really Izzy, I think you should do it," he insists. "I think you should get on your knees and show me how grateful you are for everything that I do for you.¡±

    I take a moment to try and process exactly what he''s telling me to do, but there is absolutely no way that I''m doing it. I try to keep my voice steady as I respond, because any break will give him the weakness that he lives for.

    "Jamie, don''t talk to me like that. Please, lets just go to bed. I''ll clean up and we can sleep this off. It''s okay, we''re okay. We''ve both had a little bit to drink, but we shouldn''t let this get out of hand, please."

    I stretch my hand out to him and pray that my reasoning did the trick, keeping a delusional hope that he''ll take it before apologising for everything in the morning.

    Instead, he brushes right by my fingers, smiling manically while his eyes run a trail over my body in a way that sends a chill down my spine. I wrap my arms around myself in some form of coverage. I wish I''d worn more than a pair of pyjama shorts and a flimsy top, but it''s so hot out that I didn''t even want to wear this much.

    He gets so close that our bodies are almost touching.

    "I think, I''d much rather that you do what I''m asking," he says as he slowly reaches for his zipper, keeping his eyes on me as he pulls it down. The noise of the metal scraping the teeth fills the room.

    "Jamie..." my voice cracks as tears spill down my cheeks. "Please, please don''t do that, don''t make me do that."

    "Make you? I don''t make you do anything Izzy."

    I can smell the liquor on his breath as he brings his hand up and glides it over my throat, he holds it there, pressing, not enough to harm me, but enough to tell me that he can.

    "Are you going to make this complicated for yourself?," he whispers.

    I stare back into his eyes. The Jamie I met, the one who made me laugh, who was kind and sweet and loved me is there, I just need to find him.

    "Please don''t," I plead. "You don''t want to do this".

    "You''re right Izzy... I want you to."

    Grabbing both of my shoulders, he forces me downward. I push back against him, but the pain from the pressure it puts on my feet is overwhelming, and very quickly I find myself left kneeling in front of him. Pouring my face into my hands, I sob, begging him to stop. He just stands there though, unmoving and expectant.

    "Jamie listen to me," I cry, "this is crazy!" Grabbing at his legs, I will him to see sense, but get no reaction. "I can''t! I can''t do that, please stop, please!"

    For a fleeting moment, I think I see his eyes soften as he stares down at me. I think that he''s going to stop this, and that he''s going to realise what he''s doing. He''ll tell me to get up and that he''s sorry, and then everything will be okay.

    But a fleeting moment is all it was, because as quick as they softened, Jamie¡¯s eyes cloud back over, becoming soulless pools of blackness.

    "Don''t make me wait Izzy," he says, the warning in his voice clear. I can''t see my way out of this.

    My hands tremble as I lift them toward his waist and begin to undo his belt, relying on memory more than sight because the tears just keep coming, blurring my vision. I feel Jamies body almost start to convulse, and as I look upwards to his face, I watch him dissolve into cruel laughter.

    "You were actually going to do it weren''t you?," he says, "God, you''re pathetic Iz."

    Pulling back away from him, I''m horrified as I realise what he''s done. Jamie towers over me with a crooked grin on his face. His sole intension here was humiliation, nothing more.

    "Look at you. Did you honestly think I''d let you touch me right now?," he says, squatting down and gripping my face the way he always does when he''s trying to hurt me. "You look like shit Iz."

    He pushes my head away from him sharply before standing back up and moving past me like I''m no more than a piece of trash on the street.

    All at once my anger reaches boiling point. I know I should control it, I know I should walk away, but I''ve never ever felt so degraded in all my life. I''m completely repulsed by him. How could he do that to me?

    Standing to my feet, I ignore any pain that might be there. I can''t control myself as I reach for the closest thing I can find, a tumbler glass, and hurl it towards the doorway as he leaves.

    "You''re fucking disgusting!" I cry after him.

    He stops dead still as the glass hits the doorframe and shatters beside him. As blind with rage as I am, even I can see what a bad move that was.

    Jamie storms back towards me as my stomach twists into knots. There''s no shouting, no chances to take it back, and absolutely nowhere to run as he rounds the corner of the counter towards me.

    In one swift movement he advances on me, rearing back and punching me in the face with such force that it knocks me sideways. My head hits the door handle of a cabinet as I fall to the floor. Everything is suddenly so blurry, I can''t hear him anymore. I can''t hear anything.

    There¡¯s only darkness.

 Chapter 9

    I don''t know how long I lay on the kitchen floor. I don''t know if Jamie picked me up, or if he dragged me to the bathroom. I don''t know how long it took him to get the glass shards from the wine glass out of my feet and bandage them up. I don''t know what he used to clean the blood from my temple and hairline where it had hit the door knob. I don''t know if he noticed the blood that had dripped onto my top, but he put me to bed with it on anyway. I don''t know if it concerned him that I didn''t wake up at any point, but I guess not, because he climbed into the bed beside me and fell asleep anyway.

    I don''t know anything, other than the fact that I am petrified of this man.

    ??

    Jamie snores after he''s been drinking. It''s a loud obnoxious noise that I''m sure even the neighbours can hear. I can never sleep through it, although I suppose it could have been the pounding in my brain that woke me, I''m not sure.

    I grip my head as I lay on my pillow, it''s so loud in there. It''s as if I can hear my own blood pumping or something. I sit myself upright to see if it helps, but instead it just makes me feel dizzy. I push past it and get up anyway, unable to stand the thought of being in the same bed as him.

    My bladder feels so full it could burst, so I rush myself into the bathroom first. It''s only on my way back to the bedroom afterward that I catch a glimpse of myself in the vanity mirror. It stops me in my tracks.

    Theres a big, red, angry looking bruise coming up on my right cheek, just under my eye, with hints of purple already pushing through. I touch it with the tip of my finger before wincing away from the sting. It''s almost stiff from the swelling. I hope to god he didn''t break my cheekbone, I don''t know what I''d say to a doctor about it if he did.

    The cut on my left temple doesn''t look as bad in comparison, it''s small. Not even an inch long, but I imagine a cut isn''t any easier to hide than a bruise.

    I stand at the vanity for a while, taking the sight of myself in. I¡¯m a different person to the one I was before I met Jamie. I was vibrant, fun. I''d never have let this happen. I''d have punched him right where he made me sink to last night before he even got the words out.

    Staring at myself right now, I wonder where all of that spark went.

    The strange reflection in-front of me starts to become a little too much, and I quickly realise that I need to get myself out of here. I need to get out of this apartment and as far away from Jamie as I can.

    I remember that I have some work out clothes in the spare bedroom. Maybe if I sneak in there I can put them on and go without waking him. He''s passed out now anyway, so I don''t really need to debate it, it might be the only chance I get.

    Creeping my way out of our bedroom, I grab some underwear and my make up bag as I go before stealing one last look back at Jamie. He looks just like him when he''s asleep... the old Jamie I mean, the one I met. The more I think about that now though, the more I wonder if there ever really was a Jamie like the one I met, or if i just made him up in my head.

    Dashing to the spare room, I change as quick as I can. Black leggings, a white t-shirt and a black zip up hoodie. Comfortable, I need comfortable.

    I forgot to take my hairbrush from the bedroom, but I have one in the car so I''m not going back now. I pull my hair high up onto my head, raking it with my fingers and securing it into some sort of bun, ignoring the burning sensation on my scalp from where Jamie held it in his fist.

    There''s a gym bag under the bed that I throw my stuff into. I''ll have to stop and get some essentials wherever I go, but I''m going. Wait. Where am I going?

    Pausing for a second, I weigh up my options. I don''t want anyone I know to see me like this. I shouldn''t care but I do, it feels weak. I can''t stand the idea of anyone knowing that I let this happen to me, so a hotel it is. Not the same place as before though, and I''ll use my savings account this time to pay for it so that Jamie can''t find me. This won''t be like it was then, I won''t allow him to talk me around.

    I have a bit of money saved up, I can stay in a hotel for a few days while I try and secure a place to rent. Something closer to work, or maybe to Sarah, I might find a reasonable one bed studio near her if I¡¯m lucky. I''ll figure that part out later though, right now I''ve got to go.

    I leave my shoes by the door and sneak into the living room, taking a picture of my grandfather, mom, Sarah and I off of the shelf to bring with me. Jamie hid it once before after we had argued about something silly. He said he didn''t, but I searched high and low for it for days. I walked into the living room one morning and there it was. The silver frame was sticking out slightly from under the armchair, leaving it at the perfect angle for the sun to catch it through the window and create a glare so I''d see it. I''d already checked under that chair, Jamie even saw me do it. I put it back on the shelf and it was never mentioned again. He''d never admit that he had taken it anyway.

    Quietly, I make my way to the kitchen, but stop as soon as I feel my feet touch the tiles. It''s spotless in here. I can actually smell the bleach. The glass is gone, and the blood on the floor has been wiped clean. He even remembered to get the door knob of the cabinet. As far as this kitchen is concerned, nothing happened here.

    I grab my laptop off the breakfast bar and open the fridge to take a bottle of water with me, but as I do, it slips out of my hand and falls to the floor, hitting off a shelf in the fridge and making a loud clanging sound on the way down. Shit. Did I even really need that water?

    Picking it up, I listen out for any movement and prepare to make a run for it, but there''s no need. Jamies snores still fill the apartment.

    After stuffing the last few bits I want to take into the gym bag, I grab my keys and slip my shoes on. That''s it, time to go. I reach for the door handle, scared to death that Jamie will wake up at the last second and catch me, but instead, someone on the other side of that door decides that it''s time for a wake up call.

    What the hell? The pounding on the door is so aggressive that it shakes from the sheer strength behind the fist that hits it.

    "James? James! You better open up this god damn door right now!"

    That voice, it belongs to Jamies dad. What in the world is he doing here at this time?

    He continues pounding and shouting, but Jamie continues sleeping. The neighbours really are going to be going crazy now.

    I realise that if I open the door he''s going to see my face, but I suppose that doesn''t matter now. I may not want anyone I know to see me, but maybe if Tom gets a glimpse of what his son can do, he might not be so quick to say I''m the one that''s not good enough for him, which is exactly what he told me the last time we spoke.

    The banging continues until Tom finally hears me unlock the door. He doesn''t wait a single second before he barges his way in and slams it shut behind him.

    "Hi Tom," I say flatly, but he ignores me of course, choosing instead to storm into the living room like he owns the place. He comes back out to meet me when he finds it empty.

    "Where is that idiot?," he asks. It''s only then that he gets a look at my face and finally shuts up. It''s not all that hard for him to add up. There I am, sneaking out with my bag packed at the first light of day while Jamie is nowhere to be found. It¡¯s clear it¡¯s his sons signature on my face.

    He reaches out and gently takes ahold my chin, using it to turn my head side to side, ensuring he gets a good look.

    "Shit," he murmurs as he drops his hand. "Wait there."

    He moves towards the only door that''s still closed. The snoring has now stopped, so I know that means Jamie is awake, putting my plan to run at risk. I shouldn''t wait, but I hover for a moment, curious to know what it is that has Jamie''s father hammering down our door so early.

    Tom doesn''t knock, he''s not one to be left waiting. He moves through the doorway of our bedroom like he could take it with him if it tried to stop him.

    He''s tall, just like Jamie. He¡¯s well built, muscular even. He''s a handsome man, but he knows that too, and he certainly loves to use his charm on the ladies. Jamie hates it. It''s the only time I''ve ever heard him express a dislike for something his father does. Jamie adores his mom, so he despises all of the ways that his father isn''t loyal to her.

    "He chases anything in a skirt," he once told me. And I knew it too. Tom had once tried to put his hand up my dress at a family barbecue with one of Jamie''s sisters standing only a few feet away. I never told Jamie, but I left his dad under no illusion that I would if he ever tried it again. He''s treated me like something that he needs to crush ever since.

    Just about every time I see him, Tom is dressed in a shirt and fitted slacks. The sleeves of his shirt are usually rolled up his forearms, and his skin is always tan. He looks a lot like the mobsters you see in the movies, so you could say his over all look is intimidating, but I think that''s intensional, which to me makes it less so. I still wouldn''t want to be Jamie right now though, I haven''t seen his father this angry before. He doesn''t care that I''m here right now either, because I can hear every single word he says.

    "Whores James!? Fucking Whores? At my business! Are you an imbecile?"

    Tom wastes no time tearing into Jamie, and to say that my curiosity is peaked right now would be an understatement.

    "Keep it down Dad, Jesus!"If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I''m sure that''s for my sake, considering how I''m the only other person here.

    "Are you kidding James!? That girl just answered the door looking like she went rounds with a kick-boxer, but you''re worried about her hearing about the hooker you fucked in your god damn office!"

    Bile rises up the back of my throat. That can''t be true.

    "I was trying to help the guys unwind Dad,¡± Jamie says, ¡°It''s not a big deal, our head is still in the game, I''m going to get the sign off we need this weekend."

    "There was coke all over my fucking desk James! Not a big deal? If I find out any of those women were in there I''ll fire you, I swear to god I''ll fire you! My kid or not! "

    Coke? As in cocaine? Jamie doesn''t do drugs, this can''t be right.

    There''s a long bout of silence between them before Jamie speaks up again, and I have to strain to hear him this time.

    "Is that girl okay?," he asks.

    "She''s fine," Tom says with a sigh. "The paramedics brought her to the hospital, she''ll be back out working some other place tonight I''m sure... James if there''s some sort of case about this, or if that bitch goes to the press it''s over for you, you know that right?"

    Oh god, what the hell did Jamie do?

    "Dad she''s a call girl, she''s not going to the press, just give her some money."

    "Oh give her some money? Sure! It''s that simple right? Have you any idea how much those girls earn these days? Do you have any idea how much I''ll have to give her to shut her up? Upwards of ten thousand dollars James!"

    Toms voice continues to rise until it sounds like he''s boarder-line hysterical. Whatever Jamie did, it''s bad.

    "Okay! I get it," Jamie snaps. "I''m sorry."

    "Oh you do? You get it, Mr. Big Shot. Let''s cut that money from your salary and see how much you get it. Fucking idiot! This isn''t New York James, you can''t get away with this shit here. I want a clean fucking business, is that so hard? I want to know that my jag off son isn''t helping my people disrespect me in my own god-damn building! I want to be able to trust you not to bring in fucking drugs and prostitutes when my back is turned, and I want to retire without you fucking it up within one fucking year James!"

    Sounds like Tom could really use a thesaurus.

    "I''m sorry Dad. I do, I understand. It won''t happen again."

    There''s another stretch of quiet between the two men, and I''ve no idea whats happening anymore. Maybe now is the time for me to leave¡­

    "What the hell are you doing to that girl of yours James?"

    Or maybe I''ll stick around and listen to whatever excuse Jamie comes up with for this.

    There¡¯s no reply from Jamie, he doesn''t have an answer. At least he has the decency not to try and pin the blame on me.

    Tom doesn''t seem prepared to accept that though.

    "You think the investors want to see that at our Christmas parties?," he asks. "Her face is a mess. You can be sure they''ll hear about what happened at the office last night too. You''re making this impossible James. I told you to marry that girl, move to the suburbs, have some kids, that''s what I said. That''s what they wanna'' see James. If you want to take over the company, that''s what needs to happen. If she''s not the one, then you better find somebody else quick and get it done, because this is going on far too long. Am I clear?"

    "Yes Dad," Jamie replies, "you''re clear. You''re clear just about every time you remind me."

    So marriage wasn''t even Jamies own idea and yet I still ended up like this? And what exactly makes Tom think that he can dictate our future anyhow?

    "Good," Tom says, completely missing his sons sarcasm. "I''ll fix this mess with the office, but you need to fix that one."

    I can take an educated guess at what he means by that, but its not happening. There''s no fixing this. It¡¯s time for me to go.

    As I open the front door to leave, Tom suddenly steps out of the bedroom. It¡¯s like he could hear my thoughts.

    "Hey sweetheart," his says with a smile so insincere that it''s sickening.

    As he approaches me, he reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet. Pullingfew hundred dollar bills out, he attempts to hand them to me.

    "Here, get yourself something to cover that up," he says, "something good okay?"

    Staring down at the money in his hand, I can see that it''s enough to pay my hotel room for a couple of days, but honestly, I''d rather he choked on it.

    He frowns at me when I don''t take it, I''ll always be a disappointment to him.

    "Listen Izzy," he says as he places his hand on my shoulder. "He needs you, let''s keep this between us, this is a family issue right?"

    The word family sticks with me. Tom has always treated me as an outsider. A nuisance that got her claws into his boy. He can''t possibly think that I''ve forgotten? And now he wants to make me feel like I''m a part of the fold. One of his allies. Family.

    He cements that fact by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. God it must have killed him to do that.

    "He''s sorry, it won''t happen again."

    I glance at the bedroom door. Jamie has kept himself out of my view, and there''s no sign of him emerging either, the coward.

    Standing taller, I pull my bag over my shoulder and look back at Tom.

    "No," I say defiantly, "it won''t."

    I leave him there, holding his money as I go. If I never see that man again, it will be far too soon.

    ??

    The trip down in the elevator to the car park was nerve wrecking. I was so afraid that Jamie was going to be pissed that I spoke to his father like that, or that I was leaving. I worried that he¡¯d come after me, but when the elevator came to a stop, I felt a strange sense of calm surge through me. I knew either way that I was doing the right thing. The doors slid open, and I decided to take my chances and run to my car, but thankfully there was no Jamie in sight. Maybe his father had told him to let me go.

    The hotel I''ve decided to stay at is only fifteen minutes away. I''ve chosen it purposely. It''s the closest to the apartment, it''s not at all cheap, and there''s no room service. For all of those reasons, Jamie won''t think for a second that I went there.

    My mind races the whole journey there. What was Tom talking about? Call girls? Drugs? Do I actually know Jamie at all?

    After pulling into the parking lot of the hotel, I reach in and grab my bag from the back. I then spot the book that Will gave me sticking out from under the passenger seat. I must have forgotten to take it into the apartment and hide it, although it was probably safer here anyway. I decide to take it with me. I''m going to have a serious amount of time on my hands here, so I might as-well read it.

    The hotel reception is huge. It has beautiful veined marble floors with a wide oak reception desk. There''s large stone vases filled with hydrangeas dotted throughout, making me feel minuscule by comparison. A gigantic ''Welcome to The Marrion'' sign lights up the back of the reception desk. Thankfully this early in the day, the place is empty.

    I do wish I''d grabbed some sunglasses from the apartment to hide some of this bruising though, lord knows what they''re going to think, but it''s too late to worry about it now.

    I approach the front desk and ask for a single room.

    "That''s no problem m''am," the guy behind the counter chirps, "but check in won''t be until twelve unfortunately."

    He''s young, not even twenty yet I''d say. As he talks to me, he tries to keep his service voice in place and pretends that he can''t see what I look like right now, but I spot his eyes slip to get a glimpse. He can''t help it.

    It''s only just gone seven thirty. I completely forgot about check in times, but I certainly don''t want to wait four and a half hours in my car right now. Maybe I could try cover up a little and go get some essentials like I''d planned, or possibly try another hotel? Although I imagine all hotels have similar check in policies, and most stores won''t open until nine.

    "Is there an early check in fee or something that I can pay?" I ask, "Or I could even cover the charge for last night?" The desperation in my voice is clear, but it seems to change nothing.

    "I''m afraid not m''am," he says, "but I can book you the room from twelve if you''d like? Breakfast is currently being served in the restaurant, maybe you''d like to pass some time in there."

    "Stephen!¡± An authoritative looking woman appears like magic behind the counter. "Why don''t you double check on the breakfast crew please, I''ll look after this customer."

    "Sure, but sh-"

    "Thank you Stephen," she insists, pushing her way in to take over. She looks like an air hostess or something. There''s not a single shiny chocolate brown hair out of place. Her flawless olive skin looks like shes never missed a single day of her skincare routine, and her full red lips seem to permanently hold a smile in place. In any other situation, I''d ask her what secret is.

    Stephen nods his head and leaves us.

    "Now Miss, I overheard that you''re looking for a room? Let''s just organise that for you shall we?"

    The lady looks to her computer screen and begins tapping away.

    "Yes please," I say, "but um, he mentioned that I couldn''t get an early check in?"

    "No no, that''s his mistake, don''t you worry, I''ll have you booked in in no time."

    Her gaze drops to my cheek, but unlike her colleague, she doesn''t try to act like she doesn''t see it.

    "How many nights will you be staying with us Miss?," she asks.

    "Uh, three? Actually no, four please. Will you need much notice if I need to stay any longer?

    "Not at all,just ask for me when you know what you need, I''ll sort it out for you. My name is Jennifer by the way."

    Jennifer points her perfectly manicured finger nail at her name tag, making sure I don''t miss it.

    "Don''t worry if it''s last minute," she says, "I''ll make sure there''s a room available for you."

    "Wow, that''s¡­ that''s great, thank you so much."

    I feel a sudden onset of emotions take me over, why is this total stranger being so kind to me?

    "Now," she says, clearing her throat, "just some details for you to know. Breakfast starts seven, lunch from eleven and dinner from four; they''re all served down here in the restaurant just behind you. We don''t do room service." She lowers her voice a little and leans across the counter. "However, if you decide you''d rather not eat with our other diners, I''ve placed a note on your room file to say that sandwiches and items from the dinner menu can be left outside your room at the time requested."

    Her voice returns to normal again as she continues what seems to be the standard spiel.

    "Check out on your last day is ten a.m, but let me know if you need more time on the day, that is if you decide not to stay longer."

    I nod my head along as she gives me all of the details, trying to retain it. I''m unsure if shes accommodating me especially or if she''s just really good at her job.

    "Any take out food of your own is of course permitted," she continues, "I also have details of all the local attractions, functions, salons, women''s crisis centres and anything else you''d like to do while you stay with us."

    There''s no misunderstanding the tidbit of information she slipped in this time. She''s trying to help me.

    Dropping her voice low once again, she ensures that only I can hear her.

    "I can also leave a note on file that you''re not accepting visitors so that you won''t be bothered, or I''m happy to charge the room under a different name perhaps if you''d like that?"

    I''m a little slow to respond, I never thought about any of this. This woman seems to know everything I need better than I do.

    I stand at the reception desk in a daze, wondering what''s best when Jennifer reaches across the counter and touches my hand, locking her eyes to mine.

    "Don''t worry Miss," she soothes, "my mom had to stay in a lot of hotels, I know there''s much to consider." She gives me a sympathetic smile and squeezes my hand as my eyes well up. This woman is exactly who I needed to meet this morning.

    "Thank you," I muster. I''ve never meant those words so much.

    "Can you add the note for no visitors please? And also put the name on the booking under Janine Anderson?"

    That''s my mothers maiden name, Jamie won''t check that, I''m not even sure he knows it.

    We go through anything else that I might need to know, and then Jennifer prepares my room key and slides the details and invoice across the desk for me to look over and sign. Something isn''t right though. The room price is roughly half of what it should be. I study it confused, and then I spot it. ''Staff member family discount rate - 45%''is printed just below the actual total. I can''t believe it.

    "Oh gosh, no, you really don''t have to do that," I insist, "honestly I can pay, please, I''ll cover the other half."

    "That''s the final price Miss," she says, shaking her head as if to tell me that there''s no point in trying to argue.

    "I- I really can''t thank you enough, you''re so kind." The overwhelm of the situation finally gets to me, and some tears start to trickle down my cheeks. "I''m sorry," I say as my wipe at my face, "I''m so embarrassed."

    "No Miss, the person who forced you to come here should be embarrassed. And if you don''t mind me saying so, I hope they don''t ever get the chance to do it again."

    More tears escape as I nod my head and continue to thank her and hold back tears. I then take my room key and quickly head in the direction of the second floor to find my room.

    Once I''m inside, I double check that I''ve locked the door and climb straight into bed. I''m exhausted and frazzled and I need to try get some sleep before the reality of all of this sets in and I have to make a plan.

 Chapter 10

    The sun slices it¡¯s way through a gap in the middle of the curtains, rudely awakening me. It¡¯s an immediate reminder that I am not in my own home. My blackout blinds would never betray me like that, noon or not.

    A residue headache is still beating away at my temples, and my cheek feels hot to the touch. I guess it¡¯s safe to say that last night definately wasn¡¯t a nightmare.

    Reaching for the bedside locker, I pick up my phone to find that it¡¯s been inundated with voice mails and messages from Jamie. There''s a voice mail from Sarah there too, so I sit myself up and listen to that first.

    "Hey Sis, I was just calling to say hi, thought maybe I¡¯d see if you wanted to have a coffee later?Call me back! Oh hey, I hear we have a mutual friend actually. Or you have a friend who''s a friend of my friend I guess?I don''t know what they call that! Anyway, call me, I''m at home today so you should come over, the girls would love to see you, and I''d love to let you look after them while I get my caffeine fix. Love you."

    I don''t have the headspace to worry about how much Will might have told his friend Adam or Sarah before Jamies messages begin to play.

    "Iz, please listen to me, I know I really messed up this time, the second it happened I knew it was too far. I tried to take care of you after... I tried to fix it. Look, all of that stuff that my dad said, I can explain it. I was just trying to do something nice for the guys at work. It was a bad move I know, but it was just some dancers, it was nothing. I didn''t touch any of them, I promise. God Iz... I really didn''t expect you to leave. Please come home to me, I love you."

    The next one plays as I try to wrap my head around the first.

    "Izzy it''s me again, this is all so nuts, I have to see you. Let me explain everything, you''ll understand. Tell me where you are and I''ll come to you. Please call me."

    The next three messages that play are pretty much the same thing. Pleading, explaining... lying. I''m angry about so much, but it¡¯s the lies that make it that much worse. Dancers? Is that why he called one a call girl? The one he sent to the hospital? Or at least somebody did, I don''t know who, and I doubt I''ll ever find out what happened either if he''s already lying about it. But I heard his father loud and clear.

    ¡°¡®I really didn¡¯t expect you to leave.¡¯¡±

    Those words play over and over in my mind. At what point did he expect me to? Did he think I''d just wait around until he tried to kill me?

    As I contemplate that question, my phone suddenly dings in my hands with a new text message. Needless to say, it¡¯s Jamie.

    JAMIE: Babe, I really wish you''d tell me that you''re somewhere safe. I need to know you''re okay. I need to talk to you. Please? xx

    My stomach turns at his use of affectionate names. I¡¯m not his babe, and I won¡¯t ever be again either. I think this time it''s really it for me.

    I could be petty and message him back, tell him that I''m safe because I''m not with him, but it''s best that I don''t. Right now I''m torn between how much I love who he could be all of the time, and how much I hate who he turns into some of the time.

    I do text Sarah though, letting her know I can''t make it today. I need some time for this swelling to go down before I see anyone. As always with her, she texts me back almost immediately.

    SARAH: Ugh, you suck! Call me later. I need to ask you about something! x

    I''m curious about that something, but I think I¡¯ll call her back at a better time. One where I don''t think I''ll be a blubbering mess down the phone.

    Perching myself on the edge of the bed, I glance around the hotel room. I was so tired when I got here that I didn''t take a proper look at it.

    It''s nice, cozy even. The bed linen is as soft as silk, and it looks brand new too. I wonder how often they replace it? There¡¯s no product in the world that would keep it this clean I imagine. The carpet under my feet feels like I¡¯m walking on a cloud, I feel like I should have left my shoes outside in the hall. Taking a look inside the bathroom, my jaw drops when I get a glimpse of the shower. It¡¯s got to be big enough to fit five people comfortably. I literally marvel at it for a while. This place is probably somewhere you''d come for a romantic weekend away. I find myself shaking my head in disbelief of the fact that I''m here, not with my boyfriend, but because of him.

    How did my life end up here? How could I allow someone to do this to me? Why did I take it for so long?

    Unable to face those questions yet, I climb back into bed, curling myself up into a ball. Wrapping the bed covers tightly around me, I allow myself to cry. I mourn the person I was, and the life I had. I mourn all of the things that I lost because I choose Jamie. The time for being strong will come, but it''s not today.

    ??

    As the day goes on, I spend most of it in the room switching between crying, vomiting or searching for a place to live. By the late afternoon my stomach is raw and I''m not even sure how many applications I''ve sent out.

    There''s a thrift store nearby that I need to get to before they close at five, so I make the effort to have a quick shower before I get going.

    I try concealing the bruising on my face with some make up. It''s not a bad job, but it doesn''t cover it all. I realise then that it¡¯s going to be hard to hide over the next few days, given how the bruise hasn''t progressed much yet. For now it''s the best I can do, so I finish getting ready and go.

    A baseball cap and some sunglasses are top of the list. I pick those up at a gas station down the street from the hotel and then run to the thrift store to see if I can get a few items of clothing that will do for the next couple of days. I''m not sure when I''ll be able to get all my stuff from the apartment. Or how. Or where it''s going...

    After picking up a sandwich and a few snacks to eat when I get back to the room, I make my way back to the hotel. My trip out into the world was short lived, but even that was too much right now.

    The minute I¡¯m back in my room, I crawl right back into bed. I''m feeling so lost and afraid right now that it¡¯s all I can do not to let it eat me alive.

    At one point, Wills book catch''s my eye from the little dresser across the room as I peak out from under the bedcovers. I debate sending him a message after being so rude the other day, but I''m unsure if I really want to. It would be so nice to have a friend right now, but I couldn''t even begin to explain any of this, and I''m having a hard time convincing myself that friendship is all that I want from him. Maybe I''m just feeling vindictive for all of the things Jamie has done over these past few years. Maybe I want to hurt him like he hurt me. Whatever it is, I know that it¡¯s best to leave it alone.

    My phone continues to light up with calls and messages from Jamie, all going unread and unanswered as I try to block out the memory of him laughing at me while I was on my knees in front of him. I exhaust myself with tears as the rest of the evening seems to slip by me, and when I do eventually drift back off to sleep, I''m tormented in my dreams with images of Jamie finding me here, making me pay for my silence. I can¡¯t escape him.

    ??

    Sunday morning comes, and I figure that it can¡¯t do any harm to try and cheer myself up with a run. I jump up, drive to a park I wouldn''t normally go to and put on some headphones. I run. I run and I run and I run so long that my legs start to cramp and feel like they''ll collapse at any moment, but then I just keep going. Feeling anything other than the anxious pit in my stomach is a win in my book.

    By the time I get back to the hotel, there''s another barrage of messages from Jamie and a follow up one from Sarah too. Shoot! I never called her back yesterday. I should probably get it over with, so I pull up her number and press call.

    "Well hello there stranger!," she says the second she answers. She''s always so sarcastic when we''ve gone awhile without seeing each other.

    "Hey, how are you? Sorry I didn''t call yesterday." I don''t try to give an excuse, she won''t ask for one either.

    "Me? I''m swell! Emily just vomited up a pack of gummy worms that she ate in secret, so that''s fun!"If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    I can hear her trying to manage things in the background, it certainly sounds like she has her hands full. "Ohh no no," she says, scolding one of the girls, "no more sweets for you! Go lay down until your tummy starts to feel better.¡±

    "Am I interrupting?" I ask, "I can call back later if it¡¯s a bad time?"

    "No it''s alright, I''ve seen this kid fish candy out of the trash, she''ll be fine. So, how are you? Did you do anything with your weekend?"

    My stomach bottoms out. It¡¯s a good thing I''ve already mastered lying to her about how things are with Jamie.

    "Not much," I say, "Jamie was at a work thing Friday so I was home, we stayed in last night too."

    "Oh, really? That guy Will said you had plans with Jamie on Friday. He said that''s why you didn''t come to the show?"

    Why on earth would Will say that? Why did he even bring me up!?

    "Um...no?, I mean, I never told him that. Maybe it was a miscommunication or something. I just said that I couldn''t make it to the show, he must of assumed¡­"

    "I see. So how come you didn''t come then?," she questions, "It would have been great to have a night out with you, it¡¯s been forever. You''ll have to come along next time."

    I''m not good at this, I''ve no idea what Will told my sister and I don''t want her to catch me in this lie.

    "I just didn''t feel up to it,¡± I tell her, ¡°it was a long week with work." Vague, thats the best option here. "But sure, I''d love to come next time, it would be fun." I can get out of that one when the time comes.

    "I''m holding you to it," she says. "So how do you know Will anyway?"

    Sarah is suspiciously curious about him, I don''t like it one bit.

    "I met him at the store, he comes in and out sometimes, he is a musician after all."

    "Right, that''s what he said too, I just thought it was weird¡­"

    "Weird? In what way?"

    "Well, don''t eat me up here Iz, but I didn''t think you were allowed to have male friends. Especially new ones."

    I''ve no idea how to respond to that. She¡¯s completely right of course, but it still leaves me a little stunned for a second.

    "I¡¯m sorry," she says, "I realise how that sounds Iz, but after that whole thing with Jamie and that guy Zach and the fact that I never hear you talk much about your friends anymore... well I just thought it was all kind of strange."

    I never realised how observant Sarah was when it came to Jamie and I. I''d give her credit for it if I wasn''t sweating due to of all of her questions right now.

    "Of course I can," I insist, keeping my voice as lighthearted as I can manage, "don''t be silly. I can have whatever friends I want, Jamie doesn''t care."

    Jamie doesn''t know.

    "Oh, okay. We''ll I''m glad to hear that,¡± she says. ¡°So how is Captain Colourless anyway?"

    I can hear the mischief in her voice as I hold back a smile. Sarah has called Jamie that from the day she met him. She thinks he''s dull. She said that even his voice was monotonous. It''s not true of course, I know first hand that there is nothing dull about Jamie at all.

    "He''s fine,¡± I reply, ¡°he spent all weekend sleeping off a hangover."

    Should I just tell her, I wonder? Tell her we broke up and that I''ve moved out? I know I could, but then she¡¯ll want to come comfort me, and I don''t want her to see me right now. Not looking this bad. God I hate this, it''s so hard not being able to talk to her

    I begin to steer our conversation away from Jamie, that way I don''t have to lie.

    "So hey, what was this thing you wanted to talk to me about?," I ask.

    "Oh, yeah.¡± Sarah grows silent for a few seconds, which is very unlike her. Normally I can¡¯t get her to take a breath between words. I think I might know what this is about. ¡°Um,¡± she mumbles, ¡°so I was wondering if¡­ well actually I wasn''t wondering anything but¡­¡±

    ¡°Spit it out Sarah.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ Dad has been asking about you.¡±

    Ah, of course, exactly what I expected. This is my dad¡¯s usual trick. He contacts me via Sarah so that he doesn''t actually have to speak to me directly.

    "No, you mean to say that he''s been complaining because I haven''t been over there since Easter," I say, correcting her. "He has my number Sarah, I don''t know why he has to make you tell me to come visit."

    "He doesn''t make me!,¡± she argues. ¡°I like it when we all get together. He just wants to see you for your birthday, thats not a bad thing is it?"

    "We only all get together because he can''t be alone with me," I say. "And he does know my birthday isn''t for another month right?¡±

    "Oh he knows,¡± she says, ¡°but he reckons it will probably take that long just to get you there."

    I let out a genuine laugh that makes my face ache. The man is a pain in my ass, but his smart mouth always finds a way to make me smile. He has the type of dry wit that I find amusing. Jamie thinks that it makes him appear rude, but it¡¯s the only part of my father that I actually enjoy.

    "Izzy, you know he wants you to come over a lot more than you do right?," Sarah asks.

    "So he can make me feel like I''ve murdered half our family? No thanks."

    "Izzy, that''s not fair."

    "None of it''s fair Sarah. He might have lost his wife and father in law, but we lost our mom and Pop Pop too. I needed him, but instead he blamed me and I lost a dad who loved me on top of it all."

    "He does love you Iz," she says. "If you''d just talk to him, I know he regrets a lot of what happened, he might not say it but he does."

    "That''s exactly the problem though isn''t it Sarah? He doesn''t say it."

    Just like always, we''re now at a standstill. Sarah won''t stop trying to defend our dad, and I won''t say that I can get past it. It¡¯s the same old story every-time we do this.

    Eventually I let out a sigh and give in just so I don''t have to fight her on it.

    "Fine," I say, "I''ll go see him."

    I don''t know why I ever bother to argue it, once my dad sends Sarah to fetch me, she always returns home triumphant.

    "Aw Iz, that would be great!," she squeals. "He''ll be so happy to see you. What are you doing Sunday of next week? I''m thinking barbecue.¡±

    "Oh wow, you were sure I''d give in weren¡¯t you?"

    "Can you tell me one time that I haven''t succeeded with this?"

    I can''t help but laugh, she''s right. It''s a sore subject for both of us, but we try not to let it come between us for the most part. Sarah adores Dad, and I can''t be mad at her over the fact that she gets the best version of him, as hard as that can be to swallow.

    I quickly do some estimations in my head. By next Sunday, even if the bruising on my face hasn''t fully faded, I''m sure it will be easy to cover up, so I figure it¡¯s safe to agree. I''m looking forward to seeing Emily and Anna at least, I hate going long periods without seeing them.

    "Great, so that''s Sunday." Sarah says, sounding like she''s ticking off a check list. "Now, what are you doing on Friday night?"

    "Um... I don''t know?"

    Hopefully I''m not still homeless.

    "Well, you just said you''d come to the next gig Adams band plays right? Well guess what? That''s the next one, so now you''re doing that!"

    "Oh, uh¡­I don''t kn-"

    "I know, I know, you''re shocked that I''m out two weeks in a row while I have two beautiful babies. Well lucky for them, they have plenty of grandparents who want sleepovers, so I''m taking advantage of it as much as I can, and you''re coming with me."

    "Can I see how this week goes?," I ask, attempting to dodge the invite. "I don''t mean to be flakey, I just have a lot of stuff I need to get done."

    "Hmm, I''m choosing to take that as a solid yes. Mark is actually bringing some equipment for Adam and the guys in his truck that night so we can get ready here and go together if you like?"

    "I¡¯m not sure, I''ll let you know okay?"

    I already start to think about what possible excuse I¡¯ll use for this, because there¡¯s no way in hell that I¡¯ll really be going to that gig. It¡¯s not a good idea for me to see Will, not to mention that I¡¯ve far too many things to get done before Friday. Just thinking about it sets off a string of worries in my mind. I need to find somewhere to live. And what if I don''t? I''ll need to make a plan for that too. I also have to figure out what I''m doing about work tomorrow, and what I''m going to tell people. Crap, I''ve so much to organise.

    With a whole new headache to fend off, I quickly finish up my call with Sarah, conscious of the fact that I need to get started. I''m annoyed that I gave in so quickly when it came to seeing my dad, but I have enough to stress about, so I ignore that problem for now and begin to pace the hotel room, trying to come up with some sort of objective.

    After wearing a hole in this velvety carpet and weighing up all of my options, I ultimately decide to tell the ladies that I fell while out running. I can say that I tripped up some steps or over a dog lead or something, both are believable where I¡¯m concerned. This way I don''t need to take too much time off of work.

    Next thing I need to figure out is where I''m going to live. I can afford another few nights here at the hotel if I need to, but I¡¯d like to keep my stay short if I still want to have a rental deposit, so I need to send off some more applications and see how that plays out. If somehow the worst happens and I can''t get a place as quick as I hope to, I''m sure Sarah will take me in for a few weeks. I doubt that she''d mind.

    Once I''ve sorted through all of that and made some kind of game plan for myself, I start to feel a little bit calmer about things. I feel like it might all actually work out, like I dont need Jamie to survive.

    ??

    I took a shower to relax my muscles after my run, but after I got out there were even more texts and voicemails from Jamie. He really isn''t going to make this easy is he?

    Looking over a few of the messages, I wonder why he bothered. They''re all filled with the same excuses as before, although his last one does stand out to me.

    JAMIE: Iz, I really need talk to you, I''m ready to be honest with you and tell you what''s been going on. Things haven''t been right and I know it. Please just meet me somewhere, it can be as public as you want, but I need to tell you some stuff. Please hear me out, I really need you right now.

    It''s weird, he almost sounds vulnerable, and that¡¯s not like Jamie at all. Either way, I decide to delete the message and switch my phone to silent. Right now I need to find somewhere to live and I don''t need the distraction.

    Opening up my emails, I find I''ve received one solitary reply out of all of the applications I sent out yesterday. All it does is give me a date that the room is available for viewing, and that''s over two weeks away. This is not looking good.

    A few more hours and countless more applications for rooms and studios later, I''m both frazzled and tired. Every place begins to look the same, and my stomach is screaming at me for food. I pick up my phone only to find that the battery has died too. Shit, I never took my charger from our bedroom when I was leaving. I groan in frustration, this is the last thing I need.

    Thankfully I remember that there was a little stand at the a gas station up the street. With any luck they might at least have a cable that I can plug in here. The hotel has those little USB ports anyway so its worth a try. I pull on my baseball cap and grab my purse, crossing my fingers that I get lucky.

    The foyer of the hotel is buzzing with people as I make my way through. It¡¯s late Sunday afternoon, and there''s some sort of instrumental live music and dinner happening. I look like I''m about to hold up a store or something with my sweat pants, t-shirt and cap combo, so I make the effort to be as invisible as possible, pulling the cap low over my face. I don''t want to have a bunch of people staring at me.

    I spot Jennifer starting another shift on my way out and give her a small wave, her big wide smile could fix my whole day.

    Rushing out the front door, I try to remember the direction of the gas station, but between that and my hat being pulled down, I lose my surroundings a little and accidentally smack right into somebody as they walk by the hotel.

    My hat comes off, and I somehow manage to knock the persons coffee right out of their hands, spilling it all over my white t-shirt. This day is just getting better and better.

    "Oh my god, I''m really sorry," I begin to blabber with embarrassment. "I wasn''t looking where I was going. I''m so clumsy."

    I pick up their coffee cup, which is actually pretty pointless considering that I''m now wearing the thing. They''re busy reassuring me, telling me that it''s alright as they grab my baseball cap off the ground. It''s only when they hand it to me that we finally get a look at each other.

    "Will?"