Page 3 of Unbreak My Heart

“I went for a run. Saw your window and…” He shrugged. She’d known him forever; he knew she’d understand. “It just caught me by surprise. I haven’t been watching TV or anything lately. Didn’t know what the date was.”

He saw her nod from his peripheral vision.

The gentle cheeriness in her voice hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Do you want to come in? You can come through the back. I’ll make you a cuppa? And I have some awesome muffins out back that I just know you’d like.”

Simon stumbled backward, shaking his head. He couldn’t go in there. “Nah. I’m good. Bye.”

He knew he was being abrupt, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to escape. But he knew Cat would understand why.

“I’ll bring you some around later, then.”

Simon nodded and spun away, lurching into a jog that fast became a sprint as he headed toward the weir end of the Lakewalk.

The burbling of Max’s personal tone jerked Simon from his sprint. He slowed to a walk, breath heaving, and swiped at the phone, seeing the family group chat come up.

Millie’s gone into labour. Has had pains since yesterday. Headed for the hospital now.

Simon’s breath stalled and his heartthunkedin his chest. He stood staring at the message, unable to think clearly.

His eyes swam and he rasped in a deep breath, his lungs burning.

Millie was having the baby.

On his first wedding anniversary without his wife.

A gasping huff flew from his lips, a horrible cross between a laugh and what was most likely the sound of the last pieces of his heart shredding apart.

He hit reply with a thumbs-up emoji, then turned the phone off, looking toward the west.

Mallory-Jayne’s hotel was off to his right, the Art Deco lights spreading a warmth that seemed to reach for him through the waning night.

He veered off to his left, toward the weir, and pounded into the lessening gloom.

*

Simon stepped intothe Fox Club bar in Bialga. It wasn’t packed, but a surprising number of people still milled around despite it being the middle of the week. He glanced at his watch.

Ten PM.

This morning he’d run until he was a shaking mess, reaching his house as the sun started peeking over the mountain behind the houses in their small town. The cloying sense of the walls closing in was almost too much to cope with, so he’d booked a room at a hotel in nearby Bialga, just down the block from this nightclub.

Heading to the bar, he glanced at the dance floor where couples had either paired up or were coming together, moving in that slow, intimate grind that came with the promise of one singular end result.

Averting his gaze, he caught the attention of the bartender.

“What can I getcha?” the young woman asked.

“Two double scotches. No rocks.”

Her eyebrows raised but she said nothing and grabbed the mid-level bottle behind her. He preferred a good single malt, but wasn’t about to get fussy tonight.

Tonight was about forgetting.

She placed them in front of him and he could tell by the look on her face that she was concerned enough that she was open to chatting if he needed it.

Not today.

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