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It was Monday morning, and I already felt drained. I lay in bed, willing myself to find the energy to rise. As I’d told Shay yesterday, I was bruised. That was the best way I could think to describe it. I understood how he came to the wrong conclusion, but being confronted by him, practically accused, hurt me deeply. He’d briefly believed I’d been keeping something from him and it was hard to stomach. That he could ever think there was a chance I’d go behind his back with Nigel made me feel ill.
It shattered me, to be honest.
So, yes, while I was still hopelessly in love with Shay, I was also very mad at him. My feelings had frayed edges, and I was prickly. It was why I ignored the messages he sent saying “Good morning” and “I love you.” I knew it was petty, but I hated what happened yesterday. I’d thought what we had was stronger, but maybe it wasn’t.
Could we get to a place of strength, given Shay’s issues with trust and mine with opening up? Surely, a stronger relationship could be built over time. And considering how his last one ended, it was understandable he might think he was falling victim to the same situation all over again. I felt for him in that regard, but on a selfish level, I still needed to nurse my wounds for a while.
Finally managing to drag myself to the shower, I washed away some of yesterday’s stress, then returned Therese’s call once I was out. I agreed to have lunch with Jonathan. Since finding out he was my brother, we were overdue for a conversation. Over the last week, I’d managed to get my head around having an older half-sibling, one who expressed a desire to be in my life. It felt nice to have that, a new family connection, but I was also nervous about whether we’d get along or have anything in common. Our lives were so opposite.
Would we even have anything to talk about?
When I stepped out of my flat, I was surprised to find a familiar Volkswagen idling outside. Wasn’t that Eugene’s car? Shay sat in the driver’s seat, climbing out when he saw me emerge.
“What’s going on?” My heart gave a hard thud. Despite being mad at him, I was still unfortunately devastatingly attracted to Shay. My emotions were all over the place. One part of me longed to kiss him, while the other part still smarted over yesterday.
“Thought you could do with a break from the bus,” he typed into his phone.
His expression was unsure, his eyes sad and remorseful. He looked tired, like he’d been tossing and turning all night. Had guilt kept him up? A trickle of empathy tugged on my heartstrings. Even though he’d hurt me, I still hated the idea of him suffering.
Staring at Shay, a small crack formed in the ice around my heart. Offering me a lift was a simple gesture but an appreciated one. It was a freezing cold morning, and I was very tempted to climb into the warm car and let Shay whisk me to work. My stubborn side refused to give in so easily though.
“That’s okay. I think I’ll stick with the bus.” The words had barely left my mouth when he moved in front of me. Shay took my hand, lifting it to his mouth and turning it to brush his lips over the inside of my wrist. My breath caught, and he glanced at me, his lips still pressed to my skin. A shiver trickled down my spine. His look was sensuous, pleading, and I didn’t have it in me to walk away.
“Fine,” I allowed, a quiver in my voice. “You can d-drive me to work.”
His mouth left my hand, briefly brushing my cheek before he pressed his warm palm to the small of my back and led me around to the passenger side. I lowered into the car, and Shay closed the door. The rich aroma of coffee hit my nose, and I spotted a takeaway cup in the holder nearest my seat, alongside a small paper bag.
“Those are for you,” Shay typed.
“You shouldn’t have,” I told him quietly.
He reached out to stroke my hair. I turned to him; a lump of emotion lodged in my throat. His eyes held mine, so full of love and adoration I could barely stand it. He let out a long, pained sigh, then glanced away. It was only as he withdrew I noticed the redness around his knuckles and gasped. Acting on instinct, I pulled his hand into mine to inspect it.
“What happened?”
A shadow passed over his features as he gently withdrew his hand without response.
“Shay?” I pressed, eyebrows rising.
He sighed, then typed, “Nigel came over yesterday. We got into it. I ended up punching him.”
