Chapter 4

Sam

Standing under the warm water, face turned toward the spray, I push my hair back from my face and let the water just run down my body. I’ve been in the shower for way too long, and I’m going to be late for work, but I can’t quite make myself leave. It’s warm and cosy, and it makes me long to crawl back into bed. Except I’ve fallen into that trap before. The moment I get back under my duvet, the promised sleep will disappear from reach yet again and I’ll waste another hour staring at the ceiling.

At least it wasn’t my usual nightmares about the fire that kept me awake last night, it was a horror show of my own making.

Sean. I can’t get him out of my mind.

Normally, I lie in the bed, afraid to close my eyes in case when I open them again, I’ll be back in a dark room, coughing, and choking as I try to find the door. Last night, I was afraid to close my eyes because he’d be there, his steady presence and his kind smile. Instead of waking up convinced I could smell burning, I woke up imagining that I could smell him beside me. And instead of remembering the feel of the hot floor under my hands as I crawled around on my hands and knees, disorientated and panicking, it was his warm skin as I trailed my fingertips across his chest.

Much more pleasant memories, but painful, nonetheless.

I turn off the shower and step out into bathroom. Pulling on a skirt I used to adore, I’m shocking to find it hanging loosely on my hips. Tara keeps on at me about not eating properly, but it’s only recently I’ve noticed that my clothes no longer fit as I’d like. I was proud of petite curves. They’re all but gone.

Slipping a dress over my head to wear instead, I pad into the kitchen and pour a giant travel mug of coffee. I step into my black pumps, grab a pair of giant sunglasses to hide the dark shadows under my eyes, and force myself to leave the house.

The sunlight does me good whenever I go out for fresh air, I know that rationally. When I’m exhausted though, dragging myself out the front door just seems like a monumental effort that I can’t muster. I tilt my face up to catch the warmth of the sun and breathe. I can do this. Just keep going and it’ll be okay.

A motorcycle turning onto my street catches my attention and the hair stands up on the back of my neck. For the rest of my life, I think they’ll remind me of Sean. I pause as it roars past, watching the driver lean the machine into the next turn expertly. It can’t be him, it’s not his bike, but I find myself hoping it is.

It’s going to be a long day.

Resuming my march towards the office, I force a smile onto my face. Fifteen minutes later, I’m about to push open the large glass door when Jeff beats me to it. I nod politely as he holds it open, allowing me to walk in ahead of him. He takes a few quick strides to catch up to me and falls into step with me.

“Hey Sam,” he says sympathetically, and I inwardly cringe at his tone. The last thing I want is his pity. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine Jeff. All better.” I keep walking, eyes straight, wishing I wasn’t having this conversation. Wishing I never went to that stupid club and let everyone see how messed up I still am.

“Sam, you don’t have to pretend with me.” His voice is hushed as he catches me by the elbow to stop me in my tracks. He leans close so nobody else will hear. “Did you go to the police?”

Shit. I turn to face him and push my sunglasses up on top of my head as I press the call button for the elevator.

“Jeff, I promise, I’m fine. I called the police, they said they’d check the CCTV, but I don’t hold out much hope. I’d like to just forget about it. Thank you for helping me though, I really do appreciate it.” I touch his arm to emphasise my point and his chest puffs up with pride. He was very kind to me when it happened, even though he didn’t have a clue what to do.

“You sure?” He rests a hand on my shoulder and then steers me through the lift doors as they open.

“I am. Thank you for asking, though.” I smile up at him as the doors shut and pray that he’s satisfied. “And if you don’t mind, I’d prefer if nobody else knew… it was kind of embarrassing.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s not your fault there are such creeps out there. But mum’s the word,” he promises, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

With a small wave, I say goodbye to Jeff and head to my small office, shutting the frosted glass door behind me. We’re supposed to operate an open-door policy, but today is not the day. A stack of papers await my review and when I log on, my inbox has a terrifying number of unread emails. Before the fire, this wouldn’t have fazed me. I thrived on the pressure, the fast-paced environment and the go go go lifestyle.

Not so much now. Now, I feel like shutting down my computer and hiding under my desk from all those messages. I make an unenthusiastic attempt to clear some of the low hanging fruit, avoiding anything complicated that will take too much mental capacity. I’ll need more caffeine for that.

The phone on my desk rings and I consider ignoring it, but it’s reception, and I like Annie.

“Hey Annie, what’s up?”

“Sam, there’s a guy on his way up. I told him he couldn’t go through, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Okay. Did you recognise him?” I sit up straight in my chair, trying to think what unhappy client could be about to barge in here and challenge me over his bill, or the advice I gave his soon-to-be ex-wife.

“No. I’ve never seen him before. I would have remembered this guy,” she says dreamily, and now she really has my attention. Annie is stunning, if this man has her attention, he must be something.

“Did he seem pissed?” I tap my pen on my desk, already annoyed that I’m going to have to deal with this when I barely managed to get myself in to work.

“No. He was polite. Didn’t stop, just kept walking.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” I am about to ask her to describe him when I hear a deep voice outside in the open plan desk area.

“There?” he asks, and I watch transfixed as a large shadow moves closer, finger pointed at my door. The man stops outside my door and my heart jumps into my mouth as a large pair of dusty black boots appear in the clear glass at the bottom of my door.

It can’t be. Did I summon him with the strength of my longing?

For a moment, I’m thrilled at the prospect that it might be him. But then door swings open and Sean’s massive frame prowls into my space, shutting the door behind him with one large boot, I gulp nervously. Because I remember how I left. And from the look on his face, he hasn’t forgiven me.

I’m not sure why Sean is standing in front me, but the reason is clearly not a good one.

“I’m only going to ask you this once, sugar,” Sean warns, his voice low and threatening as he rounds my desk and spins my chair around to face him. He leans in, placing his hands on the desk either side of me so that I’m forced to tilt back to get some space. His eyes burn into mine and my heart thumps widely as I wait with dread for him to ask me the question that I barely know the answer to myself. Why did I run?

“Did someone hurt you?” His face twists in a mixture of rage and torment. My fingers itch to reach out and cup his jaw, to reassure him. I’m about to apologise for the way I left but then the actual words he spoke register in my brain. That’s not what he asked me. 

“What?” I blink up at him, confused. Nobody hurt me. What is he talking about that?

“That guy. He asked if you were ok, and if you went to the police. So, I’m going to ask you again. Did someone hurt you?”

He looks like he might murder someone and a vein bulges on the side of his head. Whether it’s the smell of his deodorant, the nearness of this body that I know so intimately, or that he might still care a little if he’s willing to inflict bodily harm for me, but my core clenches and my pulse races. I can’t help staring at his lips and remembering what they felt like against mine. What he tasted like.

“Sam. You have five seconds to answer me, or I’m going to go and find that dipshit of a boyfriend of yours and ask him. Maybe not as nicely.”