Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Yes, I was bailing on him again.
I was stumbling backwards towards the staircase, wanting anywhere but there. Wanting anything but him.
I backed away faster as he appeared in the bedroom doorway, panic rising.
“You think anyone is going to listen to any more of your whining, pathetic bullshit? Everyone’s already spent months of their lives trying to reason with your useless fucking brain. Do you really think they’re going to pat you on the back when you tell them you’ve fucked up your sweet little fucking life another fucking time already?”
I didn’t think that.
I didn’t think anyone would pat me on the back for anything.
Let alone myself.
I’d never pat myself on the back for ever considering I could ever make this right again.
I was just scared.
Lonely.
Destroyed by the man I’d prayed would help me heal.
I backed my way down the stairs and raced to the kitchen.
I grabbed my handbag from the counter, and managed to pull my shoes on and rush towards the front door, and I didn’t even grab my coat on the way back through, my heart was racing too fast to care.
I heard him before the door shut behind me, shouting down the stairs at me like I was the same sad little invalid he’d been babysitting for years.
“Fuck you then, Anna!” he called after me. “See who else puts up with your disgusting little ways, and your disgusting little bodily functions to go along with them. We’re fucking done!”
Yes, we were.
Yes, we were fucking done.
And so was I.
Only this time I had nobody I could run to.
This time I was well and truly alone with nowhere to go.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lucas
I could barely sleep all over again – tossing and turning in the now so familiar blur of self-pity and regret, hating myself all over again for losing Anna in the first place.
In the day, I was making it through, but nights were harder. So much fucking harder.
At least I wasn’t drinking my way to salvation this time around.
I think I’d been dreaming. Yet another mash up of running after Millie and running after Anna too. But getting nowhere. Always getting nowhere.
I cursed my life and rolled over to the edge of the bed. The beside clock said 4.18 a.m. and I cursed the dark as well.
My phone was there on the bedside table, and I picked it up for the distraction, emails and bullshit social media streams that didn’t mean shit to me, but my thumb didn’t click on them. It took its usual route to my work identity and login, and I called up her details, just like always.
Anna’s phone. No doubt on standby as she slept soundly next to Sebastian bastard Maitland in her new life without me.
But tonight it wasn’t on standby.
It was active.
Active at 4.20 a.m.
I propped myself up on an elbow, suddenly switched on and wide awake, because I didn’t understand it.
There was no way Anna’s phone would be active at 4.20 a.m. Not with Sebastian Maitland taking care of her.
And if he wasn’t…
What the hell did it mean if he wasn’t?
I dug further and I shouldn’t have done it, but I shouldn’t have done many things associated with Anna on my work identity. I clicked on the tracker and my gut twisted as the dot positioned itself over the street view.
The Neptune fountain.
Her phone was active at the Neptune fountain at approaching half four a.m.
What the fuck was she doing at the Neptune fountain at half four in the fucking morning?
I couldn’t ignore the weird tension in my chest as I flicked on the bedside lamp and got myself out of bed. I tried her phone as I was getting dressed, but my number was still blocked. The line was dead to me.
It was probably nothing. I was probably still dream-drunk and half sane, and this crazy flash of panic was nothing short of ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I headed downstairs and I got my shoes on and grabbed my keys.
Even the dogs looked at me like I was crazy when I made my way through the kitchen. They tried to follow me to the front door but I sent them back to their bed, and then I stepped out into the night.
The lanes were empty, and so were the roads into Cheltenham. Parking was easy at this time of night, and I pulled up in a side street just along from the fountain, cursing myself all over again as I jumped out and headed over. It was probably nothing. I was probably being ridiculous, and it was all probably ok.
Only it wasn’t ridiculous.
And it wasn’t ok.
She wasn’t ok.
My heart stopped dead when I saw her there, a tiny huddle on the grass in front of the fountain.
My feet pounded the tarmac as I raced to her, and I was calling her name but she didn’t turn around, not until I was right on top of her and reaching out.