Page 133 of Straight to Me

“Every day’s been the same you know. Absolutely, fucking shit. I know that’s my fault, but I can’t outrun the storm that’s in my head, Mads. Without you, the only way to stop it hurting is to drink.” I know what he means, having done the same in the first few days.

“I get it.”

“Maybe it’s the whiskey talking, but I see your face every time I close my eyes.” I place two mugs down slowly, filling them with tea bags and sugar.

“Dean, can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’ll remember what you’ve said and are in the right mind?”

“That depends.”

“On?” Walking to the fridge, I grab the milk whilst he carries on eating and speaking between mouthfuls.

“Whether you’ll be here tomorrow. If you won’t be, then I need to say everything I have to say now, before I lose you again.”

“I have to be at work for nine, but I can come back in the afternoon?”

“You’d do that?” he asks as if surprised.

“Yes, I’ll come back.” I’ll need to make sure he doesn’t self-sabotage again. My phone pings from my bag. “I better check that,” I say, excusing myself from the kitchen.

It’s Alex, changing our meeting from ten at the office, to ten at the local coffee shop on the high street. I don’t like the idea of getting too comfortable or personal with work colleagues. I have a rule of professionalism. But I confirm, knowing I’ll have to end any misunderstandings when I see him.

Phone in hand, I send Jess a message, letting her know that I’d heard from Dean. I didn’t say I was with him, but she replied instantly, pleased that at least I knew what was going on.

He’s sat at the table with his head slumped in his hands. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“I need to sleep,” he yawns.

“Come on, I’ll help you back up to your bed.”

“I’ll go on the sofa, you can take my room.” I don’t know when I agreed to stay the night, but I don’t exactly want to leave him in this state either.

“No offence, but your room stinks. I’d rather take the sofa.”

He laughs as I help him to his feet, offering my hand for him to take. Warm tingles flow up my arm the second his hand connects with mine. His touch so inviting. It’s neither the time nor place, but there’s no mistaking how I still feel for him.

As if feeling the same as me, we both look at our hands, before I shake mine loose, apologising.

“Sorry. You go, I’ll bring up a fresh drink of water.” I don’t look at him.

“Okay,” he eventually says, then walks himself slowly up the stairs. By the time I make it up to him, he’s already in his bed.

“Here.” I place the new glass beside him, taking the one from earlier away.

“I got out one of my t-shirts for you.” Sure enough at the end of the bed I spot it with a spare pillow and blanket.

“Thanks. I’ll say goodbye before I leave in the morning.” Taking the things off the bed, I walk to the door, looking back to him before I leave. “Good night.”

“Night, Mads.”

I leave the door ajar then walk to the bathroom. Having used his toothbrush and changing, I carry the blanket and pillow down to the sofa, setting up myself a makeshift bed for the night.

I lie awake, replaying everything over and over in my mind. I mentally remind myself to let Lynn know he’s okay. Then I think about Jack and the pain that comes with his death. No wonder Dean’s been a mess. If I had known, I could have helped him.

Around three in the morning, I hear his feet padding around upstairs. Sitting up, I wonder if I should go up to him, but lay back down thinking better of it. As much as I could snuggle close to his warm body, now isn’t the right time to overcomplicate things.

Instead, he comes down to me.

Walking slowly and quietly, he tries not to disturb me from the sleep I fake. My heart races as he gets closer. Keeping my eyes closed, I feel him stroke my hair as if checking that I’m really here. It’s a calming touch, one that feels like a warm blanket covering my entire body. I’m faced away from him as I hear him sigh.

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