Page 24 of Forever Not Yours

Well, who was I kidding? He checked up on me too. Took my blood readings and fed me. Always had something in his jacket pocket to sort me out when I forgot to eat. Took me for a drink when I needed one. Loved all my girlfriends, fiercely and protectively.

While I just lived my life and did nothing of substance.

The thoughts whirling around my head made me emotional, because I’d once again pulled him into my mess, and I wasn’t even trying to deny that I was grateful he was taking those bullets for me, without complaining. Like entertaining Juliet. Like…

Like he’d fucked me a second time, given me everything, with no questions asked, taken me out of that dark space, just for a few minutes, then held me as I rode the afterglow. It was the one time in my life I felt right, when my body sang to the correct hymn sheet. When I didn’t feel so bloody wrong.

Today, I was wrong, like I’d been turned inside out in the wash and couldn’t get my limbs back on straight. Nothing fitted, and my tie was strangling me. I ripped it off when I got out of the car, punched the code for the door and waited for the lift, rocking on my heels, grimacing at my teeth gnashing.

My shoulders ached as I finally put the key in the door and entered the familiar space where Flossie came whirring around my feet, yapping excitedly as I picked her up and gave her all the attention, scratchesand belly rubs and silly little words that meant nothing, but she loved it. Her frantic tail wagging made me smile as she stuck her little tongue up my nose.Disgusting, Juliet would have said, but she was only a young dog, no longer officially a puppy, but…well. I hadn’t been the best at house training her. She still occasionally left puddles and pooped where she shouldn’t, but she was mine.

I sighed and set her down again, impatient to get my clothes off and in the shower. I liked the routine I’d created here. I needed a certain degree of stability in the way I lived, and more than anything right now, I needed to rest. Sleep. Make the world go dark around me so I could get up tomorrow and actually live.

Live. Gah.

I showered and shoved food into my mouth, straight out of the fridge. Drank a pot of yoghurt like an idiot, scraping the sides with my finger. I couldn’t be bothered with a spoon. Then I took my meds and dosed up and tested my bloods, and then I just stood there, staring at the sofa.

I was bloody exhausted.

I turned and looked towards the room at the back, where the curtains were drawn and darkness prevailed. I shivered in my underpants and thin T-shirt, despite the summer weather outside. All I wanted was…

I should sleep on the sofa. Keep the boundary lines clear.

But there was a nice duvet and a soft bed and more pillows than were strictly necessary in that bedroom at the back, and I wasn’t proud of myself as I toddled towards the bed, grabbing my phone in the process. I knew where his charger leads were. I also knew when he’d come back. Maybe I should set an alarm so I could vacate the bed for him. Less questions to answer.

Or maybe I would just set my alarm as normal and hope he would crawl in here and hold me. He had the other evening. Held me and shushed me, and the memories made me want to cry. I wanted. Needed.

The duvet smelled of him. I curled it around me, letting the chill from the fabric fade into my bones. Warmth. Softness. It felt better than it should have, and the next thing I knew, my alarm went off.

I wasn’t proud of the way I flew out of bed. Nor was I under any illusion that it was sane to stand there and stare at him the way I did, his naked chest rising and falling next to the hollow shape in the sheet where I had lain. He was there, and I wanted to scream in frustration, yet I didn’t. I let my breathing calm down, my thoughts slowly piecing themselves together until my feet would move and I figured out how to dress myself.

Flossie. Gym. Work. The car seemed to drive itself, parking perfectly in my designated office parking space, and then as always, I took the lift upstairs. My floor was calm and deserted this early in the morning, but someone had already made coffee in the small kitchenette, and I gratefully poured myself a cup, sipping it as I ambled towards my office, having grabbed my pile of paperwork from reception on the way.

Here, I knew what I was doing. My multi-screen set-up, my phones, the keyboard and mouse. The drawing pad where I took my notes. My arse in its place on the seat, my hand loosening my tie to a comfortable position around my neck. One button undone.

Just the way I liked it.

“Bash.”

I hadn’t even heard her walking down the corridor, nor noticed the door opening, but here was Juliet in a tracksuit and trainers—no heels yet; far too early for that—hair slicked back, no make-up. Stunning, as always.

“You’re early,” I muttered in surprise.

“Wanted to catch you and have a word.”

Professional. Curt. She sat in my visitor’s chair.

“Juliet,” I said, hoping I could find answers, good ones, to yesterday’s many texts. Excuses. Apologies. Something. Anything.

“Bash, this is work. Let’s keep it to work. I am still too bloody cut and exhausted by everything to even contemplate talking to you about anything else.”

“Apart from in texts.”

“I need to rant. Deal with it.”

“Fine.” Relief, actually.

“I need you at the Graham Bloom meeting.”

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