My throat tightens.Tears burn my eyes.I blink rapidly, trying to hold them back, but one escapes, tracing a hot path down my cheek.
I swipe it with the back of my hand.
Silence stretches out, taut and humming like a wire about to snap.It is so deep I can almost hear my own frantic heartbeat.Then, despite my best efforts, a tiny, hitching sound escapes me.My sob is caught and swallowed before it can fully form.A tremor runs through me as I suppress it.In response, Matthew’s arms tighten around me, just a fraction.
A silent consolation.An unspoken promise of support that, instead of calming me, makes the unshed tears burn hotter behind my eyelids.
“All those years, moving around, never staying in one place too long… I thought I’d finally found it,” I whisper, my voice choked.“A place to call home.My very own business, real friends… even a fiancé.A complete life.”
The words hang in the air, shattered by a sudden storm of sobs.
My composure crumbles and I fall apart.
Tears stream down my face, hot and unstoppable.My body shakes with the force of my grief, an anguished cry escaping my lips.I grip the edges of the board, my fingers digging into the textured surface trying to hold myself together.But it’s no use.The pain, the loss, the sheer exhaustion…
It all comes crashing down on me.
Matthew’s arms hold me even tighter.He lowers his head, pressing his cheek against my temple.I feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back.A calm, anchoring rhythm amid my storm.My trembling hands reach up, finding his forearms, the muscles corded and strong beneath my fingertips.
I cling to him like a lifeline.
TWENTY SIX
STRONG ARMS SHIFT, lifting me…
The scent of chlorine fading, replaced by the crisp smell of soft bedsheets…
A low, deep voice near my ear, the words indistinct but the tone soothing…
Like an echo from a great distance, my voice, small and thin, whispers…
I always end up alone…
Always…
A comforting pressure settles over me, warm and secure…
Darkness…
Complete…
Until it isn’t.
Consciousness surfaces slowly, reluctantly.A dull, persistent ache throbs behind my eyelids.My mouth is cottony dry.My limbs are leaden, buried under a thick duvet.
Where…?
With immense effort, I peel open my heavy eyelids.
Muted daylight filters through closed curtains, painting the room in soft grey tones.My gaze drifts sluggishly across unfamiliar surroundings before landing on a distinctive pattern of giant blush roses climbing a cream wall.
Recognition clicks, slow and fuzzy.
Matthew’s guest room.
Teeth gritted, I push myself up onto shaky elbows, the duvet pooling around my waist.I’m still in the oversized navy tracksuit.
My head swims slightly.
