All Chapters of The Things I Can't Do To You: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

By four thirty on Friday afternoon, Amelia Carter had answered one hundred and twelve emails, reorganised two project schedules, corrected three mistakes that were not hers, and politely apologised twice for problems she had not created.She rubbed at the bridge of her nose before looking back at the spreadsheet glowing on her computer screen. The neat rows of figures blurred together until every cell seemed determined to merge into the next. Around her, the open-plan office buzzed with conversations, ringing telephones, keyboards tapping at frantic speed and the constant hum of printers refusing to rest.It had been one of those days.The kind that began with optimism and ended with everyone discovering a new emergency that somehow became Amelia's responsibility."Amelia?"She looked up as Martin appeared beside her desk carrying a folder thick enough to make her shoulders ache in sympathy."I know it's late," he said, already smiling in the hopeful way people did when they wanted a

The man approaching her table wore confidence like a second skin. Amelia noticed that first. The easy smile. The relaxed shoulders. The way he moved through the crowded bar as though he had every right to be exactly where he was going. He stopped beside her table and gestured toward the empty chair opposite. "Is anyone sitting here?" His voice was pleasant enough. Friendly, even. She could say yes, but lying felt unnecessarily rude when he had only asked a simple question. "No," she said. "It's free." He smiled wider. "Mind if I join you?" "I was just finishing my drink," she said carefully. He missed the hint entirely or chose to ignore it. "Perfect timing then," he said, already pulling out the chair. "I'll buy you another." He sat down before she could respond. Amelia's fingers tightened slightly around her glass. The bar was not particularly busy. There were at least three other empty tables she could see from where she sat. "I'm Daniel," he said, extendi

Amelia remained exactly where she was, her fingers wrapped tightly around her glass, though she had no intention of taking another sip. She could still feel the adrenaline coursing through her body.Daniel had walked away. He should have been gone. Instead, he lingered near the bar, his conversation with the man beside him appearing secondary to the repeated glances he sent in her direction. Every few moments she found herself looking up without meaning to, only to discover his eyes already waiting for hers.Each time she immediately looked away again. Perhaps she was imagining it. Maybe he was simply looking around the room. Or perhaps she was allowing the uncomfortable conversation to colour everything afterwards.She wished she believed that but her pulse still refused to settle.The warm, cosy atmosphere she had enjoyed less than half an hour earlier had disappeared entirely. The cheerful chatter surrounding her now seemed strangely distant, as though she were listening from under

Amelia followed the tall stranger through the soft glow of the bar, her hand still held gently in his. She had not expected him to keep hold of it, yet she found herself grateful for the steady warmth of his palm. Her pulse had not yet recovered from the encounter with Daniel, and the stranger’s presence felt like the only solid thing in a room that had tilted dangerously off balance.He guided her towards a quieter corner where four wooden chairs surrounded a small round table. The lighting here was softer, the noise gentler, the atmosphere calmer. It felt like a pocket of safety carved out of the crowded room. Amelia lowered herself into the nearest chair, her handbag resting against her leg, and tried to steady her breathing.The stranger took the seat opposite her. He did not sit in the one beside her, nor the one that would have blocked her view of the exit. Instead, he chose the chair that allowed him to face the room while still giving her space. It was a small detail, yet it m

Amelia found herself sitting perfectly still on the sofa with her eyes closed. She had intended to make herself a cup of tea, curl up beneath a blanket and forget the evening had ever happened. That was usually how she dealt with difficult days. A hot drink, a romance novel and an early night could fix almost anything.Tonight, none of it seemed to work.The tea sat untouched on the coffee table, slowly cooling in its mug. The book lay open in her lap where she had abandoned it after only a few pages. The television hummed quietly in the background, though she couldn't have said what was on.Instead, the evening replayed itself.Daniel smiling as though she owed him her time. The scrape of the chair as he'd sat down without permission. The casual confidence with which he'd answered questions directed at her. The growing knot in her stomach every time she'd tried to end the conversation, only for him to steer it somewhere else. The horrible realisation that nothing he was doing seemed