Page 45 of Come Back To Me

It fucking hurts—the thought of her not forgiving me, but she just has to trust me.

Everyone will just have to trust me.

Chapter Twelve

MADISON

Igot ready for work in silence, packed myself a lunch and left the house all before eight. I know what I said to Dean hurt him, but it’s how I felt.

Still is.

My head’s pounding. The dull drum continuously bangs in my eye socket. I push my fingers against the sore area, momentarily easing the pain. I then slide my fingers to my temples, hoping I can sooth it away. It feels nice, for a second, before it hurts even more.

Sat at my desk, I open my daily emails, not paying attention to anything due to my racing mind. Where did Lauren go? Why was she there this morning? Why didn’t she stay and talk to me?

I grab my phone and check the screen. There’s nothing there. I already know in my gut that she won’t come to the meeting this morning. If Dean hadn’t stopped me from stopping her running out, I could have brought her here myself, ensured she did this for her own sake.

Now I’m back to square one.

Reaching into my top drawer, I find the packet of painkillers and take two, sipping from my fresh cup of tea, courtesy of Eva. These headaches are getting worse. They’re not helped by the stress of work and the club, but they’re definitely harder tomanage.

I pick up my phone and type out a message to Bex asking to FaceTime later, as a black and white fuzz starts creeping into my vision, leaving me unable to see the screen properly.

I look at the clock. There’s twenty minutes until the meeting starts. Grabbing my things and my tea, I then head towards the office. Once in my seat, alone in the room, I struggle to see where I’m putting things as the fuzz-ball blocks where I’m looking. It’s frustrating and confining.

The office door opens, and Vivian joins me taking a seat by my side. “All set?” she asks.

I nod but can’t bring myself to smile, then grumble, giving up on trying to get myself organised.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” I say nonchalant not looking at her.

Vivian laughs. “Is this your hormones or are you just in a bad mood today?”

“Probably both,” I reply grabbing my mug. I take a slow sip then lean back in my chair. “She’s not coming.”

Vivian stops setting up her things, her eyes now locked on me. “And how would you know this?”

Letting out a sigh, I say, “She showed up at the house this morning.”

Vivian’s eyebrows lift. “Oh,” she comments, and I can already tell this won’t go down well. “And why won’t she show up today if she was willing enough to show up at your house?”

“It’s not my house,” is my stupid response, because I don’t know how willing Lauren was to show up or if Dean had forced her somehow.

“No, but you moved out of your place so it might as well be.”

That’s true. “I went down after hearing her and Dean talking. I thought I was imagining it—hearing her voice, but she was there.” And I was so happy. “She freaked out, then ran out thedoor.”

“Why do you think she freaked out?”

“She said she was sorry.”

“For what, having a crappy care provider and being manipulated?”

I shrug my shoulders.

Vivian knows most of what happened—where Lauren was concerned anyway—after I’d had a bad day and completely broke down on her. She supports me, but she agreed we should keep it between us. “I guess she meant all of it. For thinking she’d hurt me, Dean…”

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